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amoristt · 3 years ago

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Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

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“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him.

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this.

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red.

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you.

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.”

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it.

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?”

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.”

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy.

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip.

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy. As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.”

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be.

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke.

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind.

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find.

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.”

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse.

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In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable.

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look.

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began.

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan.

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

You lowered your head.

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot.

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled.

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?”

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod.

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again.

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly.

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust.

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that?

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person?

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once.

No one believed you.

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With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew.

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under.

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed. How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you.

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions.

No wonder he was so angry.

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call.

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.”

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing.

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.”

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.”

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again.

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy. He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right?

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger.

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying.

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos.

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh.

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up.

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?”

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot.

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.”

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.”

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm.

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #grazing the fire #scenario #fanfic #fluff

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nextdoorharry · 3 years ago

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imaaaaagine a world like that..can you? part 2

in which y/n sees a text, harry lies to her, and wants her back.

a/n: ahhhh!!! i feel like the first part of this story was a fan favorite out of all my other pieces! so thank you thank you thank you!!! hope you enjoy!

here’s the link to part 1 if you haven’t read it already!

you were always a light sleeper. you would wake up to a pillow falling on the floor, slight wind coming from outside, or even a phone that’s on silent vibrate. that’s the case when you woke up to a text vibration sound coming from a phone. tired eyes, you wake from your current position and see a love island episode playing. on auto-play of course because you already remember watching the previous episode a few days prior. you guess you and harry fell asleep during the new one you two were watching. with tired eyes, you squint to see harry sleeping peacefully. you miss this, you thought. sitting there in silence and taking in how harry used to sleep, slight snores, mouth a little open. except he’d be right next to you and not across.

your thoughts interrupted you hear the text buzz again. you grab what you assume to be your phone, since you and harry both have simple, plain black cases.

wrong.

it wasn’t your phone. it was harry’s.

you realized this when you read the text displayed on the lock screen, from olivia wilde.

I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it. it read. you wanted to breakdown and cry right there.

you felt all kinds of emotions; confused, upset, angry, and jealous. why wouldn’t harry tell me this part? no i understand that, but why would he make it seem like he did not enjoy it at all? clearly he’s comfortable doing this stunt if he was hooking up with her. all these thoughts running through your head as you quietly get up, turn off the tv, and go upstairs to your bedroom. leaving harry to sleep on the couch.

you feel tears rolling down your face as you get into bed, quiet sobs erupting from your chest. you loved him. you still love him. you were glad when harry said that it’s all pr. you were glad when he made it seem like its all fake. but now, it was all a lie. sure it was a pr stunt, but harry and olivia seemed to take advantage of that and use that to get intimate. he clearly wasn’t as annoyed as he made to seem about the situation since he got to hookup with her. you may be jealous, but you don’t care that he didn’t mention something private like that to you, because he didn’t need to, it’s his business. but what stings is that he made it seem like it was clear he wasn’t actually into olivia.

you wake up to hear the coffee machine on, and the sound of something being cut against the cutting board. harry’s still here. you felt weird facing him now that you know he lied to you. even though you two aren’t in a relationship anymore, he has never lied to you. ever. nonetheless, you get up and proceed with your morning routine, then head downstairs.

“mornin,’ sleep well?” harry smiles as he sees you enter the kitchen. his eyebrows furrow a bit as you come closer to his vision. he couldn’t help but notice your eyes look a bit puffier than usual than how it normally looks when you’ve just woken up. he knows its either allergies or that you cried.

you reply with a slight “mhm” and reach for the cupboard to get glasses.

the thought of you crying makes him worried. it always did. you rarely cried during your relationship with him. only when it was a close individual’s funeral, or tears of laughter. or the day you two argued and he broke it off with you.

that’s why he hates seeing you in your state now. because if you were crying, all he could picture is the day you two broke up.

“y/n, y’good? your eyes look puffier than usual, love.” harry asks cautiously, trying to read your face, which refuses to make eye contact with him.

you were stood by the fridge, filling the glasses of water for the two of you when you replied, “m’good, just allergies. cat’s shedding season.” you say with a straight face, looking towards the glasses you’re filling. not wanting to look harry in the eyes. because all you can think about is how he was intimate with olivia, and how he lied. your stomach already turns at the thought.

“take the allergy meds that doctor prescribed you a while ago. remember it works wonders.” harry smiles, setting yours and his plate down on the table as you come and set the glasses down.

harry makes it so damn hard to hate him sometimes. the fact that he remembers the little things has you in awe. but no, not right now y/n.

“mhm, i’ll call in to get those refilled.” you lie through your teeth, acting as if the allergies were the reason for your current state, “thanks for breakfast by the way, y’didn’t have to. my fault for waking up later than usual.” you say sitting down.

harry sitting across from you, senses a different feel to how you were yesterday. you seem a bit off now, and you were never like this in the mornings. he supposes you did have a late night and filled with allergies bothering you, so you’re probably not in the best mood.

he shrugs it off, “no need, i overstayed my visit on accident, and its the least i can do after you helped me with my little uh, situation,” harry giggles, sticking a strawberry in his mouth.

you give him a glare as he looks down. his situation he says. you wanted to laugh in his face.

it’s a silent breakfast from there. harry in his own thoughts thinking about last night. oh, how much he missed you. how much he wanted to cuddle with you. be sleeping in bed with you. waking up to your face. soft kisses throughout. he misses it so much. he senses and hopes you miss him too. he had a good feeling last night. and that’s when he decides he needs to say something. if he doesn’t speak now, he never will. now’s the perfect time. after his tour and new album, he’ll be taking a break. a break from everything. a break to spend time with family, friends, live privately, and hopefully settle down with you. now’s the perfect time to reconcile with you and put the offer out on the table.

“..so,” harry begins. you look up and see harry putting his utensils down, wiping his mouth with a napkin, getting ready to speak. “after the tour ends, i’ll be releasing my album, do some promo for that, and then i’ll be on a hiatus..for however long i’d want it to be..”

you can’t just have all feelings for him disappear in less than 24 hours. so when he said that, you can’t lie to yourself and not feel some happiness. yet, he still better not say what you think he’s gonna say. you’re still mad at him y/n. don’t do this to yourself.

“so what are you saying..” you hum.

“god y/n, you know what i’m about to say.” harry purses his lips and looks you in the eye, hands reaching out for yours, “i’m ready to settle down with you, if you’d have me back that is.” he says with a little smile and gleaming eyes.

the days prior from yesterday of you finding out, you would’ve have said yes. you would have breathed out a finally, and had a sense of relief.

but now it’s going to be a different outcome. he took advantage of your kindness and you giving him advice. he took advantage of your time. maybe dramatic, but that’s how you see it.

you’re mad. that slight happiness you got when he said he was taking a break is gone.

“s’not even like we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend for another period of time! we can go straight to fiancés! we already have trust in each other, i mean we only broke up because of my work. nothing else was to be fixed in the relationship! i’ll put a ring on it right now if i have’ta!”

harry rambling, saying some bullshit about trust, causes you to interrupt him, “harry-“ he still rambles but now about having kids. “stop.” you say, voice grew a little louder and more stern.

harry pauses, wide-eyed. sure he didn’t know how you were even feeling about this, but he was sure the love you two have was still there.

“trust?” you laugh in disbelief. “first off, you’re acting like we took a break. a halt in our relationship until you were ready to settle down. you should know that’s not the case. i’ve been patient throughout our relationship far too long for me to be waiting around on your terms.”

“y/n i-“ he interrupts.

“no, i’m talking. this whole ‘trust’ thing is gone. i’m sorry but last night i woke up in the living room to a text notification. i assumed it was my phone, and since we have the same phone cases, i happened to pick yours up and saw a text from who’s supposed to be your ‘pr stunt’? she’s wanting to hook up with you? again? jesus harry, you should know why i’m mad and upset that you’re saying you want me now. even before you said all this, right after seeing that text, i was mad because you lied to me. look, you of course didn’t have to share that you were intimate with her; but don’t make it seem as if you’re not into her at all. and making it seem like it’s the poor girl’s fault. acting as if she’s a nuisance wanting to be intimate or affectionate, cause clearly you wanted her as well.” you end your speech with a sigh, shaking your head. you take a sip of water, mouth dry from the little speech you said. you wait for him to come up with whatever amusing thing he can say to make it not sound as bad as it is.

harry’s startled. doesn’t know what to say. he saw the text when he woke up, but he told her that it wasn’t for him anymore, that he just wanted you, and it was nice in the moment, but they are after all, strictly just business buddies with a platonic friendship. she understood, she seemed a bit mad, but harry didn’t care. he just wanted to make sure there’s nothing in his way to get you back, and that those hookups he had with her were in the past. he’s going to try to fix this.

you speak up again in a calmer tone, “you didn’t care about my feelings,”

his face turns red. nerves rattling him.

“y/n i feel awful about it, know what i mean i-“

you cut him off. “you made me look really dumb, harry.” you say while lightly nodding your head in order to get him to understand.

he begins to speak again. “look i’ll be honest. i should’ve mentioned it yesterday, and m’sorry for that. i will admit, there was a physical attraction with her at the beginning of everything, and since we were broken up-“

you correct him, “are, broken up.”

his heart hurts when you say that, he nods, “yes, are broken up, i didn’t want to live with any regrets. i felt it was better to just experiment and to take advantage of being in the stunt, seeing if there’s a spark,” he takes a breath. “i would’ve regretted if i didn’t and it was better to do it at the time because i didn’t know if you would even take me back once i came home,” he keeps fidgeting with his feet under the table, nervous on what your response will be; but hopefully understanding. because you always were.

wrong. boy was he wrong.

“so..you still did it with the intention of coming back home, hoping to get back with me?” you caught him. “harry..what are you even saying?”

he gulped. fuck. this looks bad. he didn’t think things through, he thought. “look, you didn’t feel anything rushing back last night? everything that we had, and built together?” face even more red.

“yeah and then today..you slapped me across the face with a lie and embarrassed me.” you spat. “what’s wrong with you? you don’t have any respect for me.” shaking your head in disappointment. “and its such a let down considering if you hadn’t hooked up with her, i would’ve hopped right into your arms right when you said you wanted to settle.”

he regrets everything and anything right when you said those words. why did he hook up with her? god did he really think y/n was going to just be waiting around? of course he thought so. he always did. and that’s why you two were broken up.

he sighed, shaking his head as well, as he’s disappointed in himself. he was about to speak, but you beat him to it. “i’m not mad that you hooked up with her, i’m mad that you don’t have any respect for me. i’m mad about your intentions behind it. and the fact that you lied to me making it seem like olivia is the bad guy saying, ‘s’like she enjoys it!’” you repeat his words he said to last night, when he made it seem like he wasn’t into her. “and just the fact that i gave you meaningful advice because i care about you, once again, you embarrassed me. i feel dumb, harry.”

he feels dumb too.

you still didn’t let him speak, instead, you let him leave.

“something needs to change, harry. until then, please leave.” you say, getting up from the table walking hurriedly upstairs, eyes beginning to water, but you feeling satisfied that you listened to your own advice you gave to harry: stand your ground.

a/n: man really thought y/n would be waiting around for her. smh.

hope you guys enjoyed this part!! still deciding on whether to make a part 3 or not! don’t really know which way i want to go about it.

#harry styles #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry talk #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #harry styles series

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cowboycakes · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! ur writing is incredible and i saw that requests were open and i just had to go for it. could you possible write a ReinerxFem! reader where she’s really seriously injured and tries to hide it from everyone, until she passes out in Reiner’s arms (cliche i’m sorry) and he’s just SO mad at himself for not noticing before and he’s so worried and he cares for the reader so much while she’s unconscious and after she wakes up? Just like so much fluff and angst and Reiner being a guilty fucker as he is but also like extremely protective and caring? Sorry it’s so specific. Thank you!🥺❤️

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece!

Tender Loving Care

Pairing: Reiner Braun x fem!Reader

Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, Reiner’s guilty ass

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, severe injury/blood and bleeding/recovery, fainting, hospital setting, profanity

Word Count: 1.5k

You stumble into the medical tent, plopping your sweaty body down on a cot. Dirt covered hands rummage through a med kit until they come across a bundle of white bandages. You form them tightly around your thigh, applying pressure that you hoped would stop the bleeding. You’d really messed up on the mission today, completely misfiring your ODM gear when the first titan came into view. Your legs hit a tree branch, hard. Nerves would often get the best of you like that.

And now you’re left with the consequence - a giant gash. The sight of it made you feel faint. Blood wouldn’t cease to seep through the mesh material surrounding your wound, even after rewrapping it a few times.

You pack some extra gauze into it before trying to stand up and go to find the rest of the group. Before you take your first step, the tent door flies open.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What’s wrong?” Reiner shouts, rushing over to your side.

You secretly relished in the feeling of him worrying for you sometimes.

This whole dynamic between the two of you began from a chance pairing in some training exercises. Reiner had played the cocky tough guy at first, trying to show off and take over every exercise the two of you were supposed to do together. This irritated you to no end, obviously. Your solution was to get under his skin: make him laugh, tease him and poke at him until that hard headed exterior of his cracked. With time, it eventually did, revealing a big softie who cared for you more than he’d like to admit.

“Just me folding under pressure. The usual,” you sigh, taping your bandages down, “it’s just a scratch.”

“Don’t lie, let me see it,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you to inspect your injury.

“No!” you laugh as you press a hand onto your bandage, “I’m perfectly fine! We need to get going, anyway.”

Reiner looks up to you, unimpressed. He could always see right through your fibs. You smile guiltily at him as he stands up.

“I’m not convinced that’s just a scratch,” Reiner mumbles.

“Sure it is! Just watch,” you declare as you walk toward the exit.

You couldn’t hide your limp.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” Reiner interrupts. He stands in front of you and motions for you to get on his back. You sigh, but reluctantly climb on anyway.

You loop your arms around his neck as he moves his hands to support your thighs, being extra careful around your injury.

The pain wasn’t getting any duller, even though you weren’t trying to walk now. You lay your cheek down on Reiner’s shoulder as his big strides carried you toward the horse and cart that was set to take everyone back to headquarters. Your body goes limp on the short journey, feet dangling and heavy eyes closing.

Reiner gently sets you down beside him whenever you two reach your ride. He instinctively puts a big arm around your sore shoulders, pulling your body in close to his warm chest.

“That better just be a scratch, or you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Reiner teases, squeezing your arm.

You huff in response, closing your eyes again.

The rest of the group eventually arrives at the cart - most of them as sweaty and beat up as you were. However, you were feeling weaker by the minute.

“Woah, y/n, you ok? You look pale...” you hear Annie question as she boards the cart.

You look down to your leg, quick to cover it with your hands before Reiner could see. Blood had made its way through your bandaging again.

“Yeah, I’m just fine,” you laugh nervously, “thanks Annie.”

You weren’t fine. You were becoming increasingly lightheaded - feeling yourself break into a cold sweat as your breathing becomes shallow.

The cart eventually starts to move, its wooden wheels creaking as it makes its way over the bumpy path home. You try to focus on the scenery moving around you, but your vision is too blurred.

The state of your body was now making you nervous. You decide to close your eyes and lean your head against Reiner’s chest, gripping a sweaty hand on the back of his shirt, trying to ground yourself. He rubs his hand up and down your arm slowly in response, calming you down a bit.

“We’re almost home. I’ll get you feeling better once we’re there, ok?” Reiner says.

“Ok…” you smile, beginning to feel yourself fade in and out a bit.

The cart finally comes to a halt. Reiner stands up before you and helps your woozy legs to straighten with the support of his hand in yours. He steps off the wooden cart first, opening his arms up so he could pick you up again.

“Reiner, I’m okay,” you say, letting go of his hand, “promise.”

You look down at the dusty ground from your position on the cart, now standing completely unassisted.

Ok, just a small step, right? Three feet at most. Just move your foot forward, out into the abyss below the cart.

Suddenly, your vision is a mere tunnel, blackness encroaching rapidly from the outsides of your eyes. Your body is in free fall, no longer under control of your mind.

The last thing you sense is a pair of big arms catching you princess style.

••••••••

“Dammit!” Reiner hisses, turning fast on his heels toward the infirmary. He’s quick to dodge the other scouts walking away from the cart, moving as fast as he could while keeping your limp body still in his arms.

I’m always so fucking oblivious. Why do I ever listen to her? Always trying so hard to make sure she’s not being a burden. Of course she was lying to me, why couldn’t I have just taken better care of her from the start?

He slides through the infirmary front doors, alerting some nurses behind the desk of your condition. He keeps you tight in his arms as they swiftly guide you to a room. You let out a little groan once he sets you down on the hospital cot.

God dammit. This is all my fault. Damn I can’t stand to see her face like this, all tensed up - she must be in so much pain. Shit, I am not about to tear up right now.

Nurses rush over to you, quick to put you on some fluids and start sewing up your leg. Your condition quickly stabilizes, allowing the nurses to give you some much needed time to sleep off your injuries.

Reiner insisted on taking over the nurses' duties after that point. Big, gentle hands would change out your bandaging every so often, along with keeping cold rags on your head and holding your hand when looks of discomfort appeared on your face. In his mind, it was the least he could do to subdue his guilt - to make it up to you.

He sat there all night, a big nervous mess in the chair he pulled up next to you. He hated getting so emotional like this, especially around someone who he needed to believe he was invincible. Luckily for him, you were still sleeping like a baby, unaware of his concerns.

You finally open your groggy eyes early in the morning - the sun hasn't even peaked over the horizon yet. Your unfocused gaze wanders to the side of the bed.

There he is - his head sits in his hand as he stares out the dark window from his chair. His short blonde hair is disheveled, probably from nervous hands running through it all night. Dark circles encompass his upper cheeks. He clearly hadn’t slept a wink.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Reiner jumps a little bit from his daze, quickly turning to look at you. He lets out a long sigh of relief, wiping a hand down his tense face.

“You had me worried sick,” he grumbles. You hum in response, a sleepy smile accidentally forms across your cheeks.

He half-smiles back, studying the sweet look on your face, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Did you sleep?” you question.

He blushes a little, “You don’t need to be worrying about me, y/n.”

You scoot over on your cot, pulling the sheets down to expose a little spot for him to lay. His eyes get wide, darting back and forth between you and the empty half of the bed a few times.

He gets up from his chair quietly and makes his way to your bed, sliding under the white sheets and placing his tired head on the pillow. You move in close, placing your head in the nook between his chest and his bicep. A muscular arm wraps around your waist as his head leans over to rest against yours.

The two of you lay together in the silence of the hospital, chests rising and falling at slowing rates. You felt completely at ease now, knowing all the lengths Reiner had gone to in order to keep you safe.

“You know, once I wake up,” he yawns, his words becoming slower and slower as sleep creeps over him, “you're never… gonna… hear… the end of it.”

#reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #reiner imagine #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #reiner braun #aot reiner #reiner braun x reader #aot fluff #snk fluff #aot angst #snk angst #reiner fluff #reiner angst #attack on titan #tw: injury

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lilacmeadows · 4 years ago

Text

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the avengers #steve rodgers smut #thor smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #chubby!bucky #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut

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murderslugs · 4 years ago

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Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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trueshellz · 4 years ago

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Hello! Can I request Osamu and Kuroo finding out their S/O has trouble functioning recently. Like usually they're working a lot and being productive but now they're burnt out – no motivation, skipping meals, can't sleep, etc. If this is too much, please feel free to ignore! Thank you!

Thank you for the request! 💜

Osamu

You had always been good at hiding your stress from your family and it was no different when you started dating. Work had been more stressful than usual, there had been lots of looming deadlines and the change in management meant that the new person was trying to leave their mark on the company. Being a perfectionist, you didn't want your work scrutinised and had taken to working long hours with little sleep.

Osamu was aware of this, knowing to keep his distance when you had lots to do. Not because he didn't like your job, but more so that you would get little done, instead playing games or making out. You had planned to see him properly but he would always pop in during the early evening to drop off some food for you.

What you hadn't shared with him was how stressed you had felt. Instead of eating, the food had been piling up untouched. You were up most of the night working on the changes coming through from the new manager and relied on coffee and caffeine pills to help. When going into work had become too stressful, you had taken some time off to recover and focus on yourself. But this had just made you fall into a dark hole. You spent all day in pyjamas, barely eating still and slept most of the day. You didn't know how to tell your hardworking boyfriend how you felt, especially since he was so busy with the shop. If he could manage a business you should be able to do your job right?

It was the second week of not seeing you daily, Osamu was starting to get worried. You had told him that you were staying with family for a bit as you had been stressed with work and didn't want to take time away from him setting his restaurant up. You still spoke everyday, less so on video or the phone but your text conversations went on for ages.

"Osamu! How are you?"

Glancing up, he saw your parents approaching the shop as he was putting up a notice board. They had known for a while that you had been dating, being supportive of you both and the relationship between you had been great.

"I'm ok. How are you both? How's my lovely girlfriend doing?"

The shock on their faces was almost palatable, they both looked at each other confused before turning back to him.

"We've not spoken to her for about 3 weeks. She said she was staying at her apartment as she had deadlines to meet and needed to focus. You know how her siblings are when she's home."

"But..."

Osamu felt his heart stop as your parents told him what else you had said. The worst thoughts going through his mind as he listened half-heartedly to them. There was no reason to lie to him or your parents. He couldn't think of why you had spun this story to lie to everyone.

Waving farewell to your parents, his thoughts swirling around his head as he finished work and tidied up the shop. By the time he locked up, he was just angry at you. How dare you lie to him? You knew how much he valued truthfulness and honesty.

Storming to you apartment, he planned his conversation in his head. He was going to confront you about lying to your parents, lying to him and about not spending time with him. If you didn't want to date him, you should have just said. Knocking on your door, he waited for you to answer but there was nothing, the lights were off and he couldn't see inside. He didn't like using the spare key you gave him, not wanting to be that boyfriend who didn't trust their partner. But it seemed like he had no choice.

Unlocking your front door, he was shocked to see your post on the floor, more than would accumulate from a day or two. Walking through and calling our your name, he could see the apartment was messy too. The food he had been sending on the worktops, work papers all over the floor and your curtains were all closed too. He kept calling your name until he reached your room, hoping to hear you reply. Were you unwell? Why hadn't you told him? He would have helped you, looked after you.

You had been in bed all day, apart from a quick shower and eating a banana, the energy you usually had had completely depleted. Everything hurt. Arms. Legs. Head. Back. Your eyeballs hurt. How was that even possible? You thought you heard your name being called but figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn't until your bedroom door opened and Osamu's face came into your peripheral vision did you really start to panic.

"'Samu... I... what?"

All thoughts of reprimanding you flew straight out the window when he saw you. Osamu actually felt his stomach drop. Your usually bright and cheerful face was dull, your eyes were sunken and you had bags under them, he was sure you'd lost weight and didn't even want to ask when you had last eaten.

"Baby."

That one word was enough to have you breaking down into tears, not pretty ones, loud and gut wrenching sobs as he rushed over and pulled you close. Yep, definitely lost weight. His chin resting on your head as he shushed you, arms wrapped around you tightly as he rubbed your back. Your tears soaking the front of his jacket, hand curled in his top as if he'd disappear. You hadn't realised how much you missed him until he appeared in front of you.

"Baby, why didn't ya tell me? I woulda come sooner."

You shook your head, unable to form words he he climbed into bed with you. Pulling you forward so you lay on him, his arms wrapped around you as you lay there. For a long time neither of you spoke, content to lay there while your breathing settled back down and eventually falling asleep again. As you did, he couldn't help but shed a few tears at the sight of seeing you so exhausted and broken, especially after he thought the worst, made him feel like shit. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen something was wrong?

"'Samu?" He felt you move and sit up, instead pushing your head back onto his chest, he cuddled you close and squeezed you lightly.

"I'm here, baby. Don't worry."

"'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Lying."

If he hadn't cried already, he was sure you were going to make him cry again. Closing his eyes against the tears, he propped you up so you could look down at him. Brushing the hair behind your ears, he thumbed your cheek lovingly before kissing you softly.

"I wish ya'd told me, baby. I woulda helped. I woulda checked on ya more and-"

"I didn't want to burden you. You've been busy with the shop and I just... didn't want to seem like I couldn't manage. And then it just got so much and I didn't know how to fix it."

Sitting up, Osamu pulled you into his lap so you were say sideways and rocked you gently as he spoke.

"Ya never have to be sorry for shit like this. If I'd known, I woulda come sooner. Baby, ya had me worried. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to ya. Listen to me, ya never gonna be alone ok? Let me help ya baby. Lemme take some of the burden ok?" When you shook your head, he smiled and continued. "I love ya baby. It's my job to help ya."

"How?"

"Come stay with me for a bit? Even if ya never leave ya room or wanna stay in bed, ya won't be alone. I'll be there to help."

"I don't-"

"Please baby. If nothing else, I'll know that yer OK. That yer not alone and sad. All by yerself thinking that no one cares. Please?"

Kuroo

It was the autumn term and you were struggling. You weren’t sure what it was about this weather that just drained you of energy, the lack of light or the cold seeping into your bones. The idea of having dark mornings and dark evenings made your mood sour and no matter what you did, it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you had work that needed doing, your to do list steadily getting bigger and your will to donit getting smaller.

You had been off school for a week now, with Kuroo away at traing camp he was none the wiser. You were able to hide your troubles from him, he would call in the evening which would he the time you got home. He was always so cheerful, face lit up with his stories about his day and games. Often you would have his teammates crash the call and hear the mayhem as he tried to wrestle the phone away from them.

Last night, Lev had stolen the phone and started complaining about being picked on. As much as you loved your boyfriend, Lev was a sweetheart and you had a huge soft spot for him. Kuroo had wrestled the phone away from him and you watched the fight ensue in the background. With so much going on, it was easy to divert the attention away from yourself, load all the focus on his team and their game today.

Glancing at the clock, you knew the team would be on their way back by now. It was the afternoon and school was still in full force, the homework from last week still on your desk and your phone full of messages from friends asking where you were. Soon you heard Kuroo's special ringtone light up your phone. He would always message you after a match and meet with you, walking you home at the end of the day while filling you in about the camp. You would pick up snacks on the way and the lounge around on the sofa watching movies together. But today? You just couldn't do it.

Kuroo was confused and worried. Not only had you not answered your phone but you weren't in your class. Your friends hadn't heard from you in a while and that wasn't like you. Dialling your number again, he waved goodbye to his teammates before making his way to your house. He was almost there, turning back at the last minute to grab your favourite flowers and food from your local shop.

Arriving at your house, he could see that the lights were off but your car was parked outside. Calling you again, he could hear your phone ring from inside the house but you made no attempt to answer it. Banging on the door, he waited and waited. Tension growing by the minute when you didn't appear.

"Kitten! I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door."

You knew you should answer it, you phone had rang about twelve times and you had about twenty messages as well as four voicemails. Dragging yourself out of bed, you went to your window and peered out, seeing his dark hair as he bent over his phone. The image tugged at your heart, you could see his brows furrowed as he bounced on his toes. A sure sign that he was anxious and worried.

"Kitten. Open the door. I can see your shadow in the window."

You tensed as he said that, begrudgingly walking to the door and bracing yourself against it. Tears forming in your eyes as you thought about how you worried everyone, how much of a letdown you were and how unreliable.

"Baby." His voice was softer now, closer too. "Open the door. I'm worried about you. Lemme at least see you ok? If you wanna be alone afterwards, I'll leave."

Cracking the door open a few centimetres, you peered through and saw Kuroo's face. It instantly softened, you felt your eyes fill with tears as he reached across and ran his thumb under your eyes, most probably seeing the dark circles you had. Letting him push the door open further, you let him pull you into a hug. His arms wrapping securely around your body as you fell into him, his voice a low shushing in your ear and it was then that you realised you were crying. Tears tracking down your face and soaking his jersey as you stood.

"Kitten, I gotcha. I'll always be here for you. Shhh. Don't cry baby. You're breaking my heart here. Let's get you inside yeah? I bought some food and we can lounge around like always." He pulled away and a look of panic crossed his face. "If that's what you want. If not, I'll go. I don't wanna intrude or-"

"No, Tetsu. I'd love to have you here... but, I'm not in a great place. I don't wanna-"

"Baby listen, my heart is wherever you are. If you're hurting, I'm hurting too. We'll get through this together ok? Let's stay in bed, watch some movies and eat our body weight in junk. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, we'll organise things yeah? School work. Homework. Whatever. I'm back now, you don't have to do this alone."

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

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Booster

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Han and Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Warnings: language, explicit smut, cheating, indecent affairs, very rich Bang Chan who can be exceedingly arrogant, mentions of alcohol and smoking; aged up characters (especially Chan)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Marriage AU; Romance AU; Indecent Proposal AU

Summary: You love your husband more than anything else in the world, but the two of you have been arguing lately about your struggling financial situation. Things seem bleak until one night when your husband’s new boss makes you both an offer that you can’t afford to refuse.

A/N: If you’ve seen the movie “Indecent Proposal,” then you know how this goes, but I put my own little spin on the classic! Please enjoy!!

“Are you happy, Y/N?”

It was a deceiving question, basic in its premise and expectation, but you couldn’t help but falter at the unexpected doubt coloring your vision.

“I guess,” you said.

But why shouldn’t you be? You were in your prime, employed as a freelance writer, and married to your high school sweetheart,

Oh, wait...How could you forget?

You were also preparing to turn thirty-years-old in less than a week, your job wasn’t delivering stable work, and you and your husband had been arguing about the single-digit amount of savings in your join account since last year.

“That’s good to hear,” your therapist said, and you nodded even though it felt misplaced.

You both knew that it was bullshit, but since this was the last session you could afford together, your therapist was clearly trying to use up the rest of your time to her advantage. Maybe it was for the best since you hated seeing her face every Sunday afternoon.

“Jisung and I are going to Vegas with his company,” you said, startling yourself with the unexpected confession.

“That’s interesting,” your therapist said, leaving the “considering how bad off the two of you are” to fill the empty silence. “I hope you have fun. Take some time to reconnect with him.”

Because surely she had heard enough of you complaining about how your husband could turn into the world’s biggest asshole sometimes when things weren’t going his way. Or when the easy parts of your personal life were feeling far too stressful to be considered healthy. “It’s nice to get away,” you decided to say in place of anything less amiable.

“Feel free to reach out if you ever need me,” your therapist continued, offering you her business card.

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from her with a sigh. “I guess that’s it then.”

“For now,” your therapist agreed, and you left the sterile-white building feeling more burdened than when you had arrived.

It was late when you got home, and you were even more exhausted than usual, laying next to Jisung in bed as soon as you had changed into comfortable night clothes.

“Do you want to fuck?” Jisung asked later on, taking off his reading glasses to look over at you as you concentrated hard on balancing next month’s budget, including all the money you had put aside for Jisung’s company retreat.

“Not right now,” you said.

“Whatever,” Jisung grumbled, and you ignored the pain in your heart as he turned around to face away from you, turning off his lamp to bathe half of the room in darkness.

“This is too important,” you tried to argue, but Jisung wasn’t listening, and it didn’t take long for him to start snoring.

But he never understood.

“Asshole,” you whispered, gathering your things to settle down in the living room instead. Where you continued working through the night, eyes glossing over from focusing on the numbers for too long, and you were drained the next morning, barely even comprehending Jisung leaving the house for work until you heard the car’s ignition from outside.

It was somewhat of a routine at this point, and you could feel the strain in your marriage, the distance between you and Jisung increasing the longer things continued to grow worse.

Your therapist would tell you to talk things out with him, but you really didn’t feel like arguing with your husband anymore. Instead, you pushed him out of your head and slept for a few more hours before getting up to start your freelance projects. It wasn’t anything difficult, and you finished most of the work by noon, leaving you to clean the house and wait by the phone in case a potential client called you with an assignment.

But the problem was the phone never rang, and you were hardly getting any work to support your shared household income.

It was a frequent point of contention, and Jisung had been begging you to take on a full-time position for months.

Maybe you should.

Maybe it would make him happier.

But why did it feel like his happiness was always prioritized over your own?

Damn, you were starting to sound just like your former therapist.

“I made dinner,” you told him when he got home that evening, and even though it was obvious that he was wore-out, Jisung met you in the kitchen with a forced smile.

“It smells good,” he said, and there was a longing in his eyes, one that you also shared but could never fulfill.

And no amount of sex ever made it any better, but that sure as hell didn’t stop the two of you from trying to use it as an excuse to pretend that the problem didn’t exist elsewhere. “Shit, Sungie,” you gasped, nails digging into the smooth skin of his back as he fucked you on top of the counter, legs spread wide around his waist as he pummeled his hips into yours.

“Yes!” Jisung moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head as your tight walls constricted around his length - pure, velvet warmth. “God, you’re perfect.”

“Harder!” you cried, trying to meet each of his thrusts, but finding it impossible to touch his animalistic pace, brutally stretching your pussy around him. The good kind of stretch that left you gaping long after you both came, lingering throughout the night and well into the morning as you limped around the house.

It ached and hurt, persistent and demanding, but there was always a desire for more, even when it was impossible to fulfill those empty places. But that didn’t stop you from trying, winding your fingers through Jisung’s hair to pull him closer, smashing your mouths together for a brutal kiss that only served to stoke the flames of passion sparking between the two of you. Something hot and raunchy, delicious in the exchanges of precious oxygen and the thin cord of saliva that remained when Jisung pulled back to look at you. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, parting your thighs around his hips as he studied the place where he was driving his cock between the delicate folds of your swollen labia. “Look at how well you take me.”

“Please,” you whimpered, unsure as to what you wanted from him, but it was always too much and never enough.

“I want you to come first,” Jisung said, sucking the pad of his thumb into his mouth before bringing it down against your clit.

“Oh!” you gasped because the secondary stimulation was proving to be the necessary catalyst to unwind you from the inside, and you could feel your orgasm growing stronger by the second.

“That’s it, baby,” Jisung groaned, throwing back his head as he worked on moving his hips faster, thrusting his erection with as much power as he could manage while focusing on digging harsh circles against the tight little bud between your legs.

“Coming!” you cried, closing your eyes against the first wave of pleasure, moaning when Jisung lifted your legs higher around his waist, slamming his cock between your pulsating walls.

It was a divine high, the kind that left a deep impression, riding the euphoria of your orgasm until you could feel your heart practically vibrating against your chest, leaving you breathless and throbbing in the place where Jisung continued to grind his cock. “I’m close,” he said, grunting as his hips stuttered in place, and you watched him fall over you as a familiar warmth escaped from where his cock was softening.

“S’ good,” you managed around a deep breath, trying to bring yourself back to Earth.

“You’re always so good for me,” Jisung said, eyes glossy with lust as he parted your lips around his fingers.

You puckered your lips, sucking hard and leaving him groaning. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I know, Y/N, and I love you,” Jisung said, holding himself up while panting over you, eyes dark and devoted.

“I love you too,” you replied on instinct, keeping him close while the two of you basked in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking.

One Week Later

It was raining at the airport, but you were in a good mood while following Jisung through the crowded terminal. “Are you excited?” he asked you once you stood in line to board the plane.

“Of course,” you replied, accepting his gentle kiss before he held out your tickets for the flight attendant.

But why shouldn’t you be? You had never been to Vegas before, and you were beyond excited for the trip, even if it had been painful to budget with your lousy combined incomes.

“I’m gonna treat you so good, baby,” Jisung whispered to you on the plane, finalizing his promise with another heart-stopping kiss.

“I love you,” you said, smiling when you heard the words in return.

It was always a promise that you could both keep, no matter how hard things got in your lives, and you could always rely on Jisung even when your own mind turned against you. Sure, it would be nice to have more financial stability, but the two of you would eventually achieve that goal, just as long as you kept working hard.

The idea of being happy all the time seemed impossible, and you were grateful for what you had, holding tightly to Jisung’s hand as he hailed down a taxi cab to take you to your hotel upon your arrival in Vegas.

“A couple’s retreat?” the driver asked when you were both settled inside.

“Something like that,” Jisung agreed, and it was half-way true, even if Jisung’s company was the main reason you were both enjoying the unfamiliar sights of the Vegas strip - blinding lights, crowded streets, and loud music. Everything was organized chaos, and you could see why so many people loved it.

“It’s beautiful,” you said to Jisung when your taxi cab arrived at your hotel.

“What do you want to do first?” Jisung asked, taking both of your suitcases as you led the way to check-in.

“Do you have to meet with your co-workers?” you asked, reminding yourself that this trip had a larger reason behind it.

“Not until the morning,” Jisung laughed, and he signed the copy of the room notice before dragging you to the elevators. “It’s you and me tonight, baby. Wanna check out the poker tables?”

You rolled your eyes because you both knew that Jisung had no idea how to play cards. “Looking around sounds nice.”

“Whatever you want,” Jisung promised, and after your things were settled in your lavish suite, he made good on escorting you around the impressive gambling floor - nothing but slot machines with bright color sequences and a vast expanse of tables with every kind of game you could want.

It was almost too much to look at, and you were grateful to focus on one thing when Jisung paused next to the craps table. “Do you want to try?” you asked, smirking at the curious look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before exchanging a twenty for some chips. “I’ll put it all on Pass.”

“Pass!” the dealer said, dragging Jisung’s chips closer. “Your roll.”

Jisung grabbed the dice from the table, bringing them closer to you with a smirk. “Kiss for good luck?”

You rolled your eyes, but entertained his request, brushing your lips against his knuckles before pulling back and watching him flick his wrist as the dice bounced across the table. “Seven!” the dealer announced, and you and Jisung were both surprised to win, watching as two piles of chips were pushed in your direction.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, and Jisung nodded his agreement, taking all the chips before bidding the dealer a good night. “Did you see that?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from giggling as Jisung pocketed the chips.

“I guess I have enough to treat you to a drink,” he said, and you followed him to the bar where he ordered you both something strong.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you asked him, feeling far more jubilant than before as you downed most of the contents, wincing at the sting.

“You need to loosen up,” Jisung said. “I know you’ve been planning for the trip, so I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Cheers to that!” you said, tapping your glass against Jisung’s and enjoying the rest of your drink.

And for a while, you actually found yourself letting go of all the worries leading up to the vacation, drinking and laughing with your husband as you played on some of the slot machines and observed some of the more serious poker games.

The alcohol sat pleasantly on your stomach, and you were losing yourself to the buzz dulling most of your anxieties. “Jisung,” you said at one point, leaning closer to him as you sat together outside by the pool. “You look really good tonight.”

Jisung smiled, bringing you in for a kiss that turned heated despite the people surrounding you. “Slow down, baby,” Jisung said, breaking your exchange and ignoring your pout.

“Let’s go to the room,” you said, lowering your tone as you trailed one finger down his toned arm.

“Maybe later,” Jisung said, but he dangled the key in front of you. “If you want, then you can go upstairs.”

“You don’t want to come?” you asked with a pout.

“I’ve been watching,” Jisung admitted with a shrug. “I know we’ve been having a lot of problems with money, but I think I can take what we brought and turn it into enough to end most of our debt.”

“Jisung,” you said, sobering up in an instant. “What if you lose?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, and you could tell that he had already made up his mind. “I know when to stop.”

“Okay,” you agreed, but it was a reluctant acquiescence because you wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, baby,” Jisung said, and you frowned when he slid you his credit card. “Call room service and take care of yourself.”

“Sure,” you agreed, pocketing the card since you had no intention of using it. “Call me if you need anything.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off as he rose from his chair, and you watched with an overhanging sense of dread as he rejoined the crowded gambling room.

You waited for as long as you could, but midnight trickled by with no sign of your husband returning to the room.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep from the excitement, and you only woke-up again the next morning when you attempted to reach out for Jisung in bed next to you, only to discover empty space.

“Sungie?” you said, filling the empty room with your voice.

But you could’ve sworn you had heard the door open at one point, so you dressed yourself and ventured out of the bedroom.

Your Vegas suite was fairly large, and the bedroom was connected to the main room by a narrow hallway with another room on the opposite end. Maybe Jisung had slept in the wrong room on accident?

It seemed plausible, until you heard the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen, and you quickly followed the noises to find your husband bent over the counter, head hanging low.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” you asked, approaching your husband to soothe a hand down his back.

But you were completely unprepared for the way he began to lash out.

“I lost it, okay?” he snapped, jerking himself into an upright stance. “All the money we brought, I blew it on the slot machines.”

“Jisung-”

“Fuck, I can’t believe it!” Jisung shouted, interrupting your attempt to speak. “I was doing so well, and I didn’t even realize things were going bad until I almost used our bank card to pull out more money.”

You exhaled harshly, realizing that if Jisung had spent all of your money, then he also accessed some of your savings since you had brought extra cash in case of an emergency. “Oh my god.”

You stumbled back against the wall, holding your chest because you could feel the start of a panic attack taking root. But how else were you supposed to react to Jisung’s confession? He had spent all the money you would both need to pay rent and buy important necessities.

“This is so screwed up,” Jisung growled, rubbing a rough hand across his disheveled face.

“That was everything,” you said, swallowing hard as your detail-oriented brain attempted to come up with an alternative, but you saw no light on the other end.

“Y/N,” Jisung said, and his voice was calmer as he looked at you. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could make things better.”

“But you made them worse,” you said, closing your eyes against an onslaught of tears, feeling as if your entire world was crashing down around you.

“Baby, no,” Jisung said, hurrying over to catch you before your body crumbled to the floor. “We’ll be okay, you know? I can always take out a loan.”

“To pay for the other loans?” you asked in a much harsher tone that you usually reserved for your husband.

“I promise I’ll make it better,” Jisung said, and he groaned when his phone started ringing. “It’s my boss again. He wanted to meet me in his room this morning.”

Jisung silenced the call, holding your face between his hands. “I promise nothing bad will happen to us, and maybe I can ask my boss for an advance on my next paycheck to help cover expenses.”

Your brain knew better than that, understanding that one paycheck wouldn’t cover those lost savings, but this was Jisung. Your sweet and kind husband, and you didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay,” you said, accepting the gentle kisses he pecked along your wet lashes.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jisung said. “But let’s not worry about it until we get back home. Can you put some clothes on for me, baby? I want you to come meet my boss with me.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding your head as you allowed Jisung to lead you both back into the bedroom.

“Everything will be fine,” Jisung said, and you allowed him to delude your mind even though nothing could be further from the truth.

Jisung’s boss was a powerful man named Mr. Bang, and his net-worth made Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk pale in comparison.

You were nervous to meet him, and it didn’t help that you were still upset from earlier.

“Deep breaths,” Jisung instructed you when he knocked on Mr. Bang’s door. “Don’t worry about anything.”

It was easy for him to say since everything was his fault, but you swallowed down your anger and pasted on your best smile when the door opened - revealing an older gentleman with dark brown hair and eyes, wrinkles edging some of the corners of his features, exposing the effects of age.

But he was still undeniably handsome, and his eyes took a long moment to gloss over you. “Mr. Han,” Mr. Bang said, finally looking away from you. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Of course, sir,” Jisung said, placing his hand on your lower back as you were both invited inside. “It’s been a rough morning.”

“Oh?” Mr. Bang questioned, following you both into the main room. “Why is that?”

You held your breath when Jisung hesitated. “Just some money stuff.”

“Ah,” Mr. Bang acknowledged. “It’s personal.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Jisung insisted, and Mr. Bang shrugged off his coat as he accepted the reassurance, reaching for a pack of cigars.

“Well, I’m excited to talk with you this morning. Would you both like to join me in the other room? I heard that Jisung enjoys playing pool.”

“Absolutely,” Jisung agreed with a smile - one that managed to disguise all the horrible realities that existed outside of this impeccable suite.

You took another deep breath, fixing a smile in place when Mr. Bang turned to look at you. “This must be your wife.”

“Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand for him, and trying not to feel disconcerted by the obvious interest in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he repeated, looking back ahead of himself as he brought you both into a far simpler room - sparsely furnished with the exception of the pool table in the middle of the area. “Do either of you mind if I smoke? It’s a bad habit.”

He chuckled at the end, waiting for your combined approval before lighting one of the cigars and bringing it to his lips.

“You’re welcome to go first,” Mr. Bang said, selecting one of the pool sticks against the wall. “I’d love to be informal with you.”

“That sounds great,” Jisung said, and you watched him bend over the table as he broke the balls at the center, sending them flying in all directions. “I was really honored to receive your invitation.”

“Were you?” Mr. Bang asked with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re a bit of an enigma around the office, Mr. Bang,” Jisung said, and his boss chuckled in response.

“Please, call me Chan,” he continued, taking his turn at the table after Jisung missed his shot, cigar dangling from his lips. “How are you both enjoying Vegas?”

“I think we’re having a lot of fun,” Jisung said, and the response irritated you a little as you cleared your throat, nose wrinkling as some of the cigar smoke reached you.

“It’s quite beautiful,” you said, and Chan found your eyes after landing his first shot.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “You know, Jisung, you talk about me being an enigma around the office. Why is that?”

You flinched at the sound of the balls smashing together, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you focused on your husband. “Well,” Jisung shrugged. “I think it’s because you have so much more than the rest of us. Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“Really?” Chan asked, standing up straight as he shot you a knowing look. “You do have something that I don’t have.”

You found yourself blushing at the comment, and Jisung studied his boss with narrowed eyes. “I guess there’s a limit to what money can buy.”

“Not mine,” Chan said, putting out the cigar with a satisfied smirk. “I can afford anything.”

You didn’t like his attitude, finding yourself jumping into the conversation without being provoked. “Some things aren’t for sale,” you said, watching as Chan bent over the pool table once again.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well, you can’t buy people,” you said, and he stood tall again with a sigh.

“That’s naïve of you, Y/N,” he said. “I buy people everyday.”

“I don’t mean in business,” you argued. “I meant something more like...when your emotions are involved.”

“So, you can’t buy someone’s love?” Chan questioned, and you didn’t like the way he was laughing. “Jisung, I hope you don’t feel the same way.”

“Of course,” Jisung said, shaking his head. “I agree with Y/N.”

“Really?” Chan smiled. “Then, maybe we should put that to the test.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked, and he exchanged a quick look with you - one filled with uncertainty.

“How much?” Mr. Bang asked.

“How much?” Jisung repeated, and he studied his boss with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Bang chuckled, and you frowned at the obvious condescension. “I mean, how much for one night with your wife?”

“Oh...” Jisung trailed off, and the room quickly filled with silence - awkward and heavy.

“Why so tense?” Chan eventually asked, and you shook your head because he knew exactly why the two of you were suddenly less than enthusiastic.

“You can’t be serious,” Jisung eventually said, reaction surprisingly neutral.

“I’m completely serious,” Chan continued, never breaking a sweat as he continued to take his turn at the pool table. “I’ll give you $1,000,000 dollars,” Chan said. “That would be enough to keep you in a life of luxury.”

“Sir,” Jisung said, and you could tell that he was caught off-guard, trying to find the right words to prevent offense to his boss, but you didn’t have to extend the same courtesy.

“No,” you said, keeping your tone firm. “He would tell you to go to hell.”

“I didn’t hear that from him,” Chan said, and you fixed Jisung with the sternest glare you could manage.

“Yeah,” Jisung said. “I’d tell you to go to hell.”

Chan sighed, pocketing the coveted eight ball with a quick motion. “I guess that proves me wrong, then,” Chan said. “But I’ll at least say this: $1,000,000 dollars is a lifetime of security. Think about it, talk it over first, and then you can forget all about this conversation.”

It should’ve been over after that without any further consideration, but you were disappointed to see that Jisung was still distracted as you sat together in your room later that night - long after leaving Chan’s suite.

“You’re still thinking about it,” you said, drawing his attention.

“Of course not, baby,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing.

“Would you seriously be okay with me spending the night with some pompous billionaire? you huffed. “He would obviously want to fuck me.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame him,” Jisung tried to joke, but the situation was far too serious.

“Sungie...”

“Look, I get it, Y/N. Marriage is sacred, and I respect you for that, but we both can’t ignore how much this would change our lives! It’s a million fucking dollars.”

“He’s an old perv,” you growled. “Would you seriously sell me out?”

“That’s not what this is,” Jisung argued. “I’m not selling you out.”

“Sleeping with a stranger for a million dollars is selling me out,” you said. “I don’t even like him...”

“It’s fine,” Jisung interrupted. “It was just a made-up scenario, and I would never force you to do anything.”

“Good,” you said, turning on your side to switch off the lamp. “He can’t just expect that from someone. It’s crazy!”

“I know, baby,” Jisung whispered quietly to you, and you knew that you were both exhausted from the chaos of your day together.

Sleep was what you needed, but it wasn’t coming.

Instead, you were loathe to admit that your mind had returned to that indecent proposal from Jisung’s boss, thinking about the last thing he said.

One lifetime of security.

You would never have to worry about money again...but what about your relationship? Would it suffer because of such an illicit affair?

You tossed and turned all night, feeling Jisung do the same thing.

Think about it.

God, that’s all you were doing, and when the sun was starting to rise again from the coverage of your blinds, you rolled over to look at Jisung, unsurprised to see him wide-awake. “If we do this,” you said, “it wouldn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” Jisung said. “It would still be the two of us against the rest of the world.”

You nodded, studying the gentle brown of Jisung’s eyes. The weight of such a consequential decision hung over both of your heads, and you sucked up every last ounce of pride you had when you came to a conclusion: “Call him,” you said, and Jisung’s eyes widened. “Tell him we’ll take the money.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” Jisung asked, and he was cautiously reaching out for his cellphone.

“I’m sure,” you said, although you didn’t feel as confident as you would like, turning onto your back to study the ceiling overhead.

The date and time were arranged for the following evening, and you could barely meet Chan’s gaze when he met you outside his suite.

“Just relax,” he whispered to you, inviting you outside onto the extended balcony attached to his penthouse where he proceeded to pour two glasses of champagne.

The cold air of the night hit you in the face like a firm slap, forcing you from the haze you had surrendered to when you first walked into the room. A wake-up call that this was happening, and the man next to you was not your husband.

You nearly drained your first glass of champagne, feeling the alcohol give you some much-needed courage. “Y/N,” Chan said, standing next to you in a suit that likely cost more than your and Jisung’s last paychecks combined. “I want to ask you what your expectations are of this evening.”

You shrugged, staring out over the bannister. “I thought we were just gonna fuck,” you replied, even if the words were a little crude.

Chan laughed at your comment. “Is that so?”

“I don’t see what’s funny,” you said. “You’re the one who has to buy women.”

“You think I have to buy women?” Chan asked. “Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

You hesitated, sensing him growing closer. “Why me, then?”

“I bought you because you said you couldn’t be bought,” Chan replied, stepping closer to drop his hand on top of yours.

“I can’t be bought,” you argued, even though everything leading up to this moment was proving the contrary.

“Really?” he asked, and you begrudgingly shook your head.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“You might enjoy yourself,” Chan said with a seductive smirk. “This isn’t meant to be a punishment.”

“I know that,” you said, holding your breath when his lips touched the shell of your ear.

“Damn, you’re unbelievably gorgeous,” Chan said, and his free hand was trailing down your spine. “Come with me into the bedroom.”

You gave him a shaky nod, following him back inside while taking in several deep breaths as you greeted the darkness of the room, discarding your champagne on the side table. “What now?”

“Take off your dress,” Chan said, and you squinted your eyes to see him falling down into one of the chairs.

Despite the cold air of the night, everything inside was heating up again.

“Okay,” you whispered, reaching back for your zipper, and holding it between trembling fingers as you unhitched the material, allowing it to fall down your body like an avalanche of blue as it pooled around your ankles.

You heard Chan’s sharp intake of breath, feeling his eyes trail over every inch of your lingerie-clad form. “Get on the bed,” he said, and you obeyed at once, trying to make yourself comfortable on top of the mattress.

But it was hard when you noticed Chan approaching the bedside, removing his jacket and shirt to reveal a lean, muscular torso - one that had undoubtedly been built after long hours in the gym. “This is my favorite part,” Chan said, shoving down his jeans and boxers without shame, and his cock sprang up against his abdomen with an impressive girth. “I like to see the way a woman’s eyes look at me. How their breath hitches when I touch them for the first time.”

He followed through on his promise, sliding his fingers down the smooth skin of your stomach with a feather-like touch before they paused at the waistband of your panties. “Take these off,” he said, and you did your best to wrangle off the flimsy fabric, pushing it aside with your toes as Chan’s eyes zeroed in on your delicate mound. “When I fuck a woman, I make sure she comes...several times.”

You shivered at that, hearing his tone grow huskier as he instructed you to open your thighs, giving himself enough room to crawl on the bed and settle down between your open legs. It was already so revealing, and you couldn’t believe you were in this position, exposing everything to him. “Do you use protection?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’d like to fuck you raw, but only with your consent.”

You nodded again, gasping when his long, thin fingers started to carefully penetrate you, scissoring around your entrance - teasing curls that did nothing but trigger your body’s instinctual arousal. Especially as the room around you continued to grow warmer, almost as hot as Chan’s lips as they scalded your skin, lifting one of your legs higher against his arm.

“You deserve to be worshipped,” Chan whispered against your thigh. “If I had a woman like you, I’d do my best to make you happy.”

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but curse, feeling him use his other hand to start moving his fingers even faster, gliding them against the greedy walls of your pussy as your body demanded you for more of the sweet addiction.

There was already a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, and your heart was beating faster and faster, matching the pace of his fingers. Eventually, he leaned down to take your clit between his lips, dropping your thigh back onto the mattress before sucking hard and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You gasped, hips arching without your approval, grinding closer to the source of that immeasurable pleasure. It was wet and sensual, creating the gentlest of sensations that traveled all the way to your toes.

You could feel Chan smirking, lips barely touching your clit before he properly opened his mouth wide to lave his tongue across the throbbing area. It felt so good, and you were practically humping his face to gain more of his delicious mouth.

He was learning your signs, hands holding your waist as he listened to every hitch of your breath, knowing when to speed up and slow down. It was like a well-rehearsed dance, swipes of his tongue across your folds, pressing firmly against your clit when he returned to the delicate organ.

It felt like pure heaven, bringing you higher and higher to a much-needed release, and it had been a long time since a man had made you experience such white hot lust from just his tongue.

“Cum for me,” Chan whispered, and he nipped at your clit, and the tinge of pain was enough to send you spiraling into your first orgasm of the night.

“Oh!” you groaned, grabbing his hair to pull him back when his sucking was starting to feel too painful right after coming so hard.

“What a good girl,” Chan said, looking down at you with a sheen of arousal coating his lips.

It was obscene, forcing you to close your eyes against the image, but you cried out when he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to open them again.

“Do me a favor and look at me while I’m fucking you, Y/N,” Chan murmured, hooded gaze meeting your struggling one - trying not to succumb to his advances, even though he was making it incredibly hard, wrist almost imperceptible with the way he was stretching you open again, pussy gaping as you felt yourself leaking uncontrollably.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, heart thundering against your chest as Chan removed his fingers only to align his cock with your entrance, dipping just the tip into your eager heat.

“Moan for me as much as you want,” Chan said, and he was bottoming out without hesitation, moving slow to prevent any pain while you got used to the stretch.

It was different from how Jisung fucked you, thrusting into you impossibly fast from the very first moment he impaled you on his cock.

There was something caring about it, and you adjusted quickly to Chan’s girth, grinding your hips subtly just to feel very inch of his generous erection. “Good girl,” Chan cooed, and he brought his cock to a deeper roll, moving back to leave only the head before forcing himself inside once again, picking up speed as your moans continued to grow louder in volume, signaling your approach to a second release.

It was beyond amazing, and you swallowed down your embarrassment from the noises he was punching from your lungs, opening your eyes as he started to move even faster, thrusting his cock between your legs at a rhythmic pace.

He was hitting your g-spot on every deep penetration, granulating in and out at a steady pace that was so unbelievably fulfilling.

You never expected it feel this good, slick from your pussy gushing at an embarrassing rate, creating an even smoother slide. But the squelching sounds were incredibly loud, filling your ears just like his cock was filling your cunt...the best kind of fullness.

You were being stroked just right, moaning when Chan shifted his hips to thrust into you at a new angle, holding your legs over his shoulders as he practically bent you in half.

His lips were warm when they connected with yours, and there was a strange desire to sink into the kiss and lose yourself there forever. But your pussy was throbbing with need - an impossible want for the man reaching all the way to your cervix.

It felt amazing when his fingers brushed across your sensitive clit, rubbing generous circles against the tight nub. He started snapping his hips at a faster rate, slapping against your hips with every thrust, holding onto your hips with a bruising grip that would leave reminders of him for days.

But maybe that was his intention.

Chan growled, plunging into your sore cunt time and time again. He was practically pounding you with how hard he was going, like he was trying to prove a point, and maybe he wanted to since nothing could have ever prepared you for how euphoric his cock was making you feel.

“Are you gonna cum again?” Chan whispered, gazing so fondly into your eyes.

You couldn’t speak, only managing a nod when he started to rub even faster at your clit, and you let out the loudest moan of the night when you were unraveling yet again, sinking into a third orgasm that left you drained.

It was a rollercoaster of overstimulation, and Chan realized this and gave a few stuttered kicks of his hips before he was filling you up with his cum, groaning and grunting as he leaned over you.

Your legs were numb from being spread wide for so long, and you weren’t sure that you would ever catch your breath, listening to the sound of Chan whispering sweet endearments from next to you as you realized that nothing would ever be same after this.

The next morning, you woke-up alone, but there was a note waiting for you on the nightstand.

Y/N,

Join us in the kitchen when you’re ready.

- Chan

“Us?” you repeated aloud, feeling a sense of dread as you stumbled on weak legs to gather your clothes.

You were incredibly sore between your legs, a reminder that last night actually happened, and you had slept with your husband’s boss for a big paycheck.

“It’s worth it,” you tried to reassure yourself, walking from the bedroom and into the kitchen with a subtle limp. “Nothing will change.”

But hindsight is 20/20, and you can’t predict the future. Still, your first sign should’ve been the strange image of Chan and Jisung sitting together in the kitchen, like they were having a casual breakfast together,

“There you are!” Chan greeted you upon your arrival, but you barely paid him any attention, eyes immediately finding Jisung’s.

Your husband was sitting next to Chan at the table, and there was a buffet of food displayed on elegant kitchenware. “What’s going on?”

“Breakfast,” Chan said, indicating towards the empty chair next to Jisung. “Please join us.”

You nodded, finally breaking your intense stare-down with Jisung to carefully sit down next to him.

Suddenly, it was difficult to acknowledge his presence, memories of last night resurfacing and causing you to blush at the obscene images. “I hope you slept well,” Chan said, and his plate was completely covered as he ate without a single care in the world. “Last night...it was amazing, Y/N.”

You could feel Jisung shift from next to you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look at him. “Chan-”

“As promised,” Chan interrupted as he reached into the pocket of his expensive suite jacket, producing a thin slip of paper, and he slid the check in Jisung’s direction. “Thank you both for everything.”

“Sure,” Jisung said, and his tone was short as he grabbed the check and immediately stood from the table. “We should get going.”

“So soon?” Chan questioned, mouth stuffed impossibly full. “You’re more than welcome to anything you want.”

“We’re fine,” Jisung insisted, and he took your hand with a firm grip. “I know you’ll understand, Mr. Bang.”

“Ah!” Chan grinned. “Formalities again?”

But Jisung ignored him, turning to look at you with a gleam in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. “Let’s go home,” Jisung said, and he tried for a smile which you couldn’t match as he led the two of you as far from Bang Chan as you could manage.

Tragically, your return home was nothing triumphant, and it should’ve felt so good to finally pay off so many bills and debts.

But it didn’t.

Everything felt hollow inside.

You also couldn’t help but notice that it was becoming increasingly difficult to talk to Jisung. Because every time you looked into his eyes, you were reminded of your impassioned affair in Vegas. It wasn’t fair to either of you, but you had no idea how to fix your relationship.

How could this be fair? You no longer had money problems forcing that divide between the two of you? In fact, you had no problems at all, and you were both entertaining the idea of moving into a bigger place and quitting your jobs.

So, what was missing? What was wrong with the way things were now that your joint account was filled to the maximum?

The answer was obvious, but you both refused to talk about it, and every second spent in each other’s company only served to carve an even deeper rift. Something so painful that you could barely share the same bed as your husband.

You couldn’t believe that things were so bad, even a month after your night with Chan, and nothing was going right. But what could you do? There was no easy solution, and it certainly didn’t help when you received a phone call from an unknown number one morning, accepting it with hesitation, only to be greeted with a strikingly familiar tone: “Hello, Y/N,” Chan said from the other end, and you immediately sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Chan?”

“How are you?” Chan asked with a pleasant tone. “I thought I might check in on my favorite couple.”

You frowned at his mocking tone. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that! And I hope the money goes a long way for you and Jisung,” Chan said, and you clenched the phone tighter between your hands.

“It’s been helpful,” you said, even though the words didn’t seem to match the life you were currently living.

“Well, I’m in town for lunch this afternoon,” Chan continued. “I thought it might be nice just to catch up with you. Would you care to join me?”

You hesitated, looking around your empty bedroom with desperate eyes. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea...”

“Oh, please it’s just one lunch,” Chan said, and it was almost impossible to resist him. But that must be why he was such a good businessman. “One lunch.”

You sighed, already feeling yourself giving in to him. “One lunch,” you agreed, parroting back the response because it felt like your body was moving on auto-pilot, having lost the familiar spark ever since you came back from Vegas.

Chan’s chosen location was a gorgeous downtown restaurant that had more Michelin stars than the places you sometimes watched on TV.

It was beyond elegant, and you found Chan waiting for you at the door after having a car bring you to him. “Good morning,” he said with a cheeky tone, meeting you halfway as he offered his arm to you - the perfect gentleman.

“This was unexpected,” you said, allowing him to escort you inside, greeting the man at the front who seemed to instantly recognize Chan, leading you both to a private room away from the others.

“I wanted to do this,” Chan said. “I thought we could talk a little.”

“Is that it?” you asked, taking the menu and gaping at the immense prices.

Chan seemed to notice, smiling at your awed expression. “Have anything you want,” Chan said. “I’m buying.”

“Oh, I can’t possibly let you do that...” you said because then it would feel like a date, and that was as far from what you wanted as possible.

“Don’t concern yourself,” Chan said. “Everything is good here, and you deserve it.”

You weren’t sure that you liked the sound of that, but you didn’t complain as you requested that he order something for both of you instead of trying to interpret the gauche-sounding entrees.

“Now,” Chan said once your waiter left the room. “Let’s talk about you.”

“Me?” you questioned, sipping gingerly at your water glass. “What about me?”

“I want to know everything,” Chan said. “All of it.”

“Everything?” you repeated, shrugging as you blushed. “There’s not much to tell.”

“I can hardly believe that,” Chan said. “What about your job?”

“I’m a freelance writer,” you said, nodding when you realized that he was genuine. “Kinda hard in the city though.”

“But you’re doing what you love?” Chan asked, and he grinned at your confirmation. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Could it be so simple? you wondered, remembering all the countless arguments you and Jisung had shared because, according to him, your job was hardly considered career-worthy. “I love writing.”

“Then you must be a big reader,” Chan remarked. “All the best writers are.”

You swooned at his smooth conversation. “I have shelves full of the classics.”

“What’s your favorite?” Chan asked.

“Jane Eyre,” you admitted, and Chan raised a brow.

“I like that about you,” he said. “It fits: the idea of a bright young woman falling in love with the enigmatic billionaire.”

You met his gaze, recalling how Jisung had aligned the term “enigmatic” with Chan on the night you made your unholy deal. Was there a deeper meaning, then? “I love the prose,” you replied instead, thinking the subject might return to Chan.

But it never did. In fact, Chan kept all the questions about you, engaging you in a way that you had never experienced with another man. Like he cared so much about the person underneath, and his probing gaze was seeing past the outside in a way that spoke to your very soul.

And you couldn’t help but compare him to Jisung: a very dangerous thing to do.

“That was nice,” you said after you had both eaten. “It was good to see you again.”

“I agree,” Chan said, ever the businessman as his hand fell low around your waist, taking you back outside the restaurant. “Should we make plans for tomorrow?”

You almost laughed, until you read his expression and realized that he was serious. “What?”

“Y/N,” Chan said, and his tone was intense. “I can’t stop thinking about Vegas.”

“Chan,” you whined, trying to pull away, but his hold was firm.

“If you were with me,” Chan purred, and it was a lethal sound that was as smooth as the hand traveling up and down your back. “I could give you everything you wanted and more.”

��I can’t,” you insisted, and there was an image of Jisung in your head when you managed to escape him. “That was only one time.”

“I think you and I both know that it meant more than that,” Chan said, and you could deny it all you wanted, but there was an insistent throbbing at the back of your skull.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, ignoring the scoff that escaped him while calling for the valet to bring the car Chan had organized for you.

“At least take my business card,” Chan said, and he was holding the small piece of printed paper out for you, but you knew that going down that path would only make things worse.

“I can’t accept it,” you said, returning your attention to the valet as he opened the back door.

“That’s a shame,” Chan said, but he was as persistent as ever, leaning close to press a kiss across your cheek. “You can always call me. If you ever need anything.”

You nodded, feeling somewhat disoriented as you sat down against the leather seat, swallowing hard when you could still see Chan from the rearview mirror.

By the time you returned home, it was already late, and you were glad to see Jisung when you sat your purse down onto the counter. “Hey,” you said, and Jisung glanced up from where he was reading the newspaper.

“Hey,” he replied. “How was lunch?”

You swallowed hard because you hadn’t told Jisung who you ate lunch with. “It was good.”

He nodded - a short dismissal, and it you decided to freshen up in the bathroom, taking a quick shower just to wash off the lingering traces of Chan.

But maybe it was foolish to think that water could wash away everything that had happened - those traces would never simply vanish.

When you walked back out into the main room, you were stunned to see Jisung putting on his coat. “Jisung,” you said, watching your husband rush around the living room. “Are you busy?”

“Just gong to meet some friends,” Jisung replied.

Distracted. Uninterested in you.

“Oh,” you said. “I thought we could spend some time together?”

“Yeah?” Jisung snorted, and you were shocked to hear him sound so abrasive...at least until he marched up to you waving around a business card. “And what the fuck is this, huh? I found it in your bag.”

He flung the card at you, and you sighed when you saw Chan’s name at the top - he must’ve snuck the card into your purse when you weren’t looking. “It’s nothing,” you said, but Jisung only laughed - a sound devoid of all humor. “Why the fuck are you going through my things?”

“Does it matter?” he huffed. “You can’t get enough of him, can you?” he asked, and you were like a tea kettle that had been sitting on the burner for way too long - practically erupting from the top.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think?” Jisung smarted back. “You’re obviously still seeing him, spreading your legs for his cock like a bitch in heat. I guess one night wasn’t enough for you.”

“How dare you!” you yelled, getting right in Jisung’s face. “You want to know what happened? He slipped the card into my purse when I met him for lunch today, but I had never even spoken to him until then.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Jisung spat, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a fucking whore, Y/N. Throwing yourself at a rich man like Bang Chan just because he can buy you nice stuff.”

“What’s money got to do with anything?”

“It obviously means everything!” Jisung shouted. “It’s what got us into this fucking mess into the first place.”

“You mean, the mess you made when you gambled all our money away?”

“Are you really going to throw that back in my face?” Jisung seethed. “I was trying to make things better for us!”

“Good job,” you snickered. “Since we’re so fucking happy together.”

“What do you want from me?” Jisung asked, throwing up his arms. “I’m obviously the biggest asshole in the world.”

“I’m glad you can admit it,” you said. “Did you ever stop to think that all that I’ve done up to this point has been for you?”

Jisung paused, opening his mouth to retaliate, but then wisely deciding to let you continue. “Did I want to go to Vegas?” you asked. “No, but I went because you wanted to impress your company, and I know you wanted to do things right, but we should’ve both known better than to bet against the house. We lost everything, and in that moment of desperation, you pressured me into sleeping with another man, and I can’t think about anything else but him whenever I look at you.”

Jisung was stunned at the admission, all traces of anger gone from his expression. “Y/N,” he said. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah?” you said, voice quivering as you wiped away your tears. “Well, now you do.”

Jisung bowed his head, and you decided that you were done waiting for something to change, marching into your bedroom to grab your phone and dialing the first number you remembered.

“Chan,” you whispered when he greeted you on the other end. “Can I come over?”

There was only a split second of silence before Chan’s voice was soothing the raging storm inside of you. “I’ll send a car.”

It was almost midnight when your driver pulled up outside of a lavish home in the suburbs: huge, towering columns and Greco-Roman architecture making the place seem more like a mausoleum.

But it wasn’t the home itself that brought you comfort; rather, the people living within it who always made things seem safe and welcoming, and Chan was sure to greet you at the door, opening his arms wide to accept your embrace. “Was it a bad fight?” he asked, and you nodded while wondering how he could’ve possibly picked up on the fact that you and Jisung had been arguing again.

Maybe he just had good intuition when it came to you, and you appreciated the understanding, allowing him to bring you into an enormous den, settling you against the couch next to him while a fire blazed in the background. “I made tea,” Chan said, reaching for the two cups waiting on the ornamental table filling the empty space at the center of the room.

“Thanks,” you said, finding your eyes drawn to the neat stack of papers that had been sitting next to the cups.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan asked, relaxing one arm around your shoulders, bringing you against his much-needed warmth.

“We just don’t get along anymore,” you said. “I thought having money would fix things, but everything is worse.”

“Really?” Chan asked, and he seemed to consider your words. “It might seem like a good thing, and from the standpoint of a businessman, money is a very powerful motivator.” He smiled, looking down at you with eyes glowing from the flames. “But money isn’t the solution when it comes to the people you love.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, but you had also started picking up on that yourself. “Were you busy with something?”

Chan followed your gaze, reaching out for the papers that had drawn your attention from the very first moment you sat down. “These?” Chan chuckled, and he slid them to the edge, allowing you to read the fine print across the cover. “Divorces are complicated, aren’t they?” Chan asked, and you hesitated when you realized what he was implying. “But if you have enough money, then anything is possible.”

“Chan...” you trailed off, vision blurring at the edges and making the letters bleed together - a cacophony of meaningless jargon. “What are you trying to say?”

“You’re unhappy,” Chan said, and it was an observation that wasn’t difficult to make after all that had happened. “I guess I just don’t want you to be associated with the person causing that unhappiness.”

“You want me to leave Jisung?” you said, breathing in and out because it wasn’t a simple decision that one could make on the spot - not after years of living with someone who had become a central part of your existence.

It was too much to bear, and Chan’s presence was almost suffocating, breaths heavy against the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.”

You trembled at his closeness, choking around a sob even though the atmosphere between the two of you was suddenly charged with something electric. “And then what?”

“Well, after Jisung signs them,” Chan said, and his tongue traced the lobe of your ear. “I’d love to have you for myself.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, closing your eyes as he took you into his arms, doing nothing more than holding you, but the feelings bubbling below the surface of your skin told you more than actions or words ever could.

The next morning, Chan had his driver take you back to the apartment you shared with Jisung.

The apartment was strangely quiet, and you left the divorce papers on the table in the kitchen while you went to shower, wanting nothing more than the scalding water to provide a temporary numbness to the confusion you felt in every fiber of your being.

It was a much-needed reprieve, and when you walked back into the kitchen, you were surprised to see your husband at the table, eyes downcast. “Come sit with me, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard when you realized he was searching through the divorce papers, but you weren’t met with his anger; instead, Jisung just seemed really sad, and that was much worse. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you said, but your husband just smiled and shook his head.

“I knew you wouldn’t come back home for nothing,” he said, sliding out the chair next to him as an invitation. “Why should you? I treated you like shit the other night.”

“We both said some really cruel things,” you said, joining him with a sigh. “Things spiraled out of control.”

“I can see that,” Jisung said, tapping his fingers against the papers. “Let’s talk about what happened.”

You shivered at the thought. “I don’t think we should-”

“No,” Jisung interrupted, but it was a gentle chide. “It’s important, so hear me out.”

It would be so hard, but you still agreed. “Okay.”

“The whole mistake in Vegas wasn’t the money,” Jisung said. “No, money might’ve caused our problems, but the mistake wasn’t wanting something to make our lives better. The real mistake was me thinking that I could just forget about it after we left. That I could easily forgive us both...What’s that old saying? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” Jisung laughed, but it was bitter sounding. “Bullshit, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Bullshit.”

Jisung smiled. “People in love stay with each other, not because they try to forget the wrong parts, but because they’re capable of forgiving the bad. And I couldn’t do that because I thought you would want Chan after that night...that you would be right to want him. He’s so much better in every way, the better man for someone wonderful like you. But by the time I realized that it wasn’t true, that he was only better because he had more money, everything had spiraled.”

He was quiet after his confession, struggling to hold back his tears as he clicked open one of our pens and brought the papers closer. “If you really want the divorce, then I’ll give it to you,” Jisung said. “I just want you to be happy.”

Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.

“Jisung...” you trailed off, unsure if there was anything you could do to change the look in his eyes.

“I’ll always love you,” Jisung said, and it was the same promise as always, but you watched with a heavy heart as he signed his name in cursive as the bottom of the form.

The divorce papers felt like an added weight in your bag as you marched into the office building of SKZ Enterprises.

It was ridiculous, really. They were just papers, made in a factory and mass-produced to be sold in stores.

But it was the symbolism they carried, the significance of Jisung’s name scribbled at the bottom of the final page that had you faltering.

Your heart was hurting, and you forced a smile when you greeted Chan’s secretary at the corner next to his big, corporate office. “I’m here to see, Mr. Bang,” you told the secretary. “Tell him my name is Y/N.”

“Of course,” she said, and you watched her disappear into the office, giving you a few critical moments to collect your thoughts.

Until you heard his voice again:

“Y/N?”

You startled at the sound of Chan’s voice, seeing him standing in front of you with a million-dollar smile on his weathered face. “Come inside?”

“Yes,” you agreed, following him into the office with the door shutting firmly behind you.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Chan said, grabbing you hand and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Is something wrong?”

“We need to talk,” you said, and Chan’s smile disappeared.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, chuckling as he invited you to sit down in one of the expensive chairs next to his desk. “Do you need anything? I can call for some tea.”

“No,” you said, deciding it was better to get straight to the point as you reached into your bag to bring out the divorce papers stapled together.

“This could either be good or bad,” Chan remarked, accepting them from you and quickly turning to the last page, expression falling. “I see.”

“I can’t sign them,” you said, and there was something powerful in your tone that had even Chan admitting defeat.

“Damn,” Chan sighed, eyes boring a hole into the pages. “This is the worst news I’ve gotten.”

“I talked to Jisung,” you explained. “Just looking at him and entertaining the idea of leaving forever...I couldn’t do it.”

Chan finally tore his gaze from the papers, meeting yours with disappointment. “I take it he said something to change your mind.”

“I don’t know if he changed my mind,” you admitted. “Rather, I think his love and forgiveness made me see reason with what I was doing.”

“Ah,” Chan said. “I think we’ve come full circle, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you told me that all the money in the world couldn’t buy your love,” Chan said, and there was something that resembled respect reflected in his eyes. “You were right all along.”

You ducked your head, unable to maintain such intensity. “I’d like to give you that money back, Mr. Bang. My husband and I can manage on our own.”

“Oh, please, I’d be insulted if you did that,” Chan said, and he held out his hand for you to shake. “You know I’m a good businessman, so consider this an opportune long-term investment in something I’m supporting.”

You were full of gratitude, swallowing back tears as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“”There’s no need for that,” he said. “I’ll always be here for you.” The sentiment was matched by the gentle brushing of his lips across your cheek, and you could feel the last reminder of Chan even after leaving his office for the first and final time.

You were carrying takeout up the stairs, feeling lighter on your feet than you had in months.

The weight of your burdensome worries was gone, and you knocked with a little too much enthusiasm on the front door to your apartment.

“Y/N?” Jisung questioned, and there was an obvious look of surprise on his face when he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reminded him with a cheeky smile. “I brought food.”

Jisung’s eyes moved to the bag in your hand, nodding once before allowing you inside. “I thought you were going to see Chan.”

“I did,” you said, leading him into the kitchen. “There were some things to discuss.”

“I see,” Jisung said, watching you with a wary expression as you presented him with his favorite Italian special.

The suspense was killing you, and you desperately wanted to see the frown leave his lips. “I didn’t sign the papers,” you said, sitting down at the table with a wearied sigh. “I couldn’t.”

“Really?” Jisung asked, clearing his throat at the hitch in his voice, but you were just trying to hide your smile at his boyish charms.

“Have I told you that I love you recently?” you asked, looking at him with way too much fondness.

Jisung paused, chopsticks poised in hand. “You do?”

“Always,” you affirmed, and you were unprepared for the first of Jisung’s tears to fall, endearing him even more to you if that was possible. “I’m happiest with you,” you told him, reaching out to wipe away those rebellious tears.

“I’ve always felt that way,” Jisung said, getting himself back under control as he pushed away his food and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You were more than happy to oblige, climbing into his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair while searing your lips together in a kiss that promised so much more from the one true love of your life.

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backtothefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW| Chapter One

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: After your mission starts going tits up and you find yourself being held at gun point, your groups big secret is about to come to light.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Guns, Violence, Hostage Situation, Shooting, Murder, Sexual References, Some Angst. (This Chapter is purely set up but there will be plenty of Smut in future instalments, not to mention drama galore, especially where Frankie is involved.)

Word Count - 3429

A/N- Hi all, I hope you enjoy my little self indulgent piece I’ve been working on. This is a female reader insert so I do use she/her pronouns, I hope this doesn’t bother anyone or make them feel uncomfortable, I just always vision myself as my insert character and I just end up writing with my own pronouns. Although I have re-read this a couple times, I did write this and proof read in the early hours of the morning so there may still be mistakes, if you find any I’m sorry. Also I cannot wait for you all to see where I’m taking this and the drama that is gonna go down. Will Benny find out everything in the end? Let’s find out.

CHAPTER ONE | WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW

Your feet danced silently across the sun spot covered floor boards as you made your way down the upstairs hallway of the house. You stayed close to the walls, your gun held tightly to your vest, finger always close to the trigger. You sensed a figure move across the hall behind you. You looked back over your shoulder as the brim of a cap stuck out from the corner of a door frame. You and Frankie locked eyes and he gave you a silent nod to let you know he had your back. You took your next tentative step forward towards the last room at the end of the hall. Creeeek.

You froze, your foot half in the air as you waited to see if your target had noticed. You heard a slight click from behind you as Frankie adjusted his gun ready just in case. You slowly moved your foot, placing it down on the floorboard next to the one that just creaked, so you had a better stance. The room at the end of the hall remained silent. You looked back to Frankie and he gave you a reassuring nod once again.

“We're all clear down here and we found the money.” Pope's voice came through the coms. “Fish? Magpie? How's it going up there.” There was a noise on the stairs causing both yourself and Frankie's head's to whip around to see Will. Frankie held up a fist to him. Will gave a silent nod as he readjusted his hand on his gun.

Frankie's response was hushed. “Give us a sec.”

You took your last few steps down the hall to position yourself across from the slightly open door. Frankie swiftly moved down the hall, stopping with his back against the wall, the barrel of his gun, ghosting the door frame. He signalled his hand indicating for you to take focus on the left side of the room, he'd take the right. You gave a nod to show you understood taking a quick look down the hall to check Will had your six. When you looked back to Frankie he was taking a slow calming breath, focusing himself. He gave one final nod and you both stormed through the door.

Just like every other room you'd checked, it was clear. You both relaxed, calling it out as Will came into the doorway. “There's nothing up here Pope.” you said into your com.

“What do you mean there's nothing up there?” Santiago Garcia's voice was frustrated as it came through the com.

“What you don't trust me? There's nothing fucking up here.” You said again as Frankie and Will did a double check of the other rooms.

“I'm coming up there.” You rolled your eyes. You and Santi had both gone into similar lines of work post service and you couldn't be mad at him for not trusting your judgement, you would probably do the same had the roles been reversed.

“Jesus Fucking Chr-” you started to mutter to yourself but a sound behind you caught you off guard. Shit.

“Put down your gun.” came a voice behind you. Of course this house had a secret fucking room you missed. You made a loud example of dropping your gun on the floor, alerting your team mates to the threat in the room with you.

Frankie stormed back into the room first, gun aimed at the ready. You sneered as the barrel of a gun was jammed into your back and your wrist was grabbed, your arm being forced behind you. “Fish what's going-” Will's voice fell as he too came back into the room, Frankie holding a hand up to him in caution.

“How many of you are there?” the man behind you spoke, his accent thick.

“We've got two more guys downstairs.” Frankie's voice came back calm.

“Iron head what's going on?” Pope's voice came booming down the hallway. Will held a hand up to him.

“All of you in here where I can see you.” The man said. You grunted as he twisted your arm again, leading you backwards so he was in a better vantage spot in the room. Frankie never lowered his gun as he stepped around the room to maintain his shot at the man behind you.

Will and Santiago slowly stepped into the room, both their weapons aimed ready. Santiago, not wanting to risk reaching for his com instead yelled out. “HEY BENNY, COME UP HERE!”

Everyone was silent as the sound of heavy footsteps made their way upstairs and down the hall. “What's everyone doing up here-” his question was cut off as he quickly surveyed the situation in the room. He quickly berated himself for leaving his gun downstairs but calmly checked himself, spotting your gun on the floor and forming a plan in his head about how he'd acquire it.

“All of you put your weapons down.” The man's heavy accent cut through the silence. When none of the men before him moved he raised the gun in his hand to rest against the side of your head. “I said, put your weapons down or I'll shoot her.” None of the men moved.

“Boy's it's alright, you can put your guns down. He's not gonna shoot me.” You said, your voice too light hearted for this situation.

“Yes I will.” the man bit back pushing the gun harder against your head.

You calmly turned your head to look at him. “No you won't, and you know how I know that?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Because you need me to get out of here. You know the moment you do any actual harm to me, these men won't hesitate making your body drop, right where you stand. You're goal here, is to get yourself out alive, so you need me alive. So in conclusion, no, you're not going to shoot me.” You roll your eyes turning your attention back to your boys. “Boy's it's fine. I'm fine, just drop your weapons.”

Benny gave a quick glance to his right, at his brothers. Both Santiago and Will reluctantly followed your instruction, making a show of calmly lowering their weapons and placing them on the floor. The only one of them who didn't move was Frankie. You locked eyes with him. You saw all his emotions and care for you in his eyes, his determination to keep you safe as he fought with every fibre of his being to not lower his weapon, to just shoot this guy right where he stood. You're eye's pleaded with him softly. “Fish, it's okay.” It took a moment, but he too followed suit, slowly lowering his weapon.

“What's gonna happen is we are going to slowly head for the door.” The man pointing the gun at you said calmly. “You're friends are gonna stay right where they are.”

“Okay.” you said back calmly. This wasn't your first hostage negotiation but then again, you'd never been the hostage before.

“Okay.” he reiterated as he pulled your arm and slowly edged you towards the door. You watched the boys closely. You could see in Santi's eyes he was desperate to say something. You kept your glance on him a moment longer and his mouth began to open, your voice came out first.

“Do you remember that time in Italy?” you addressed him calmly as your feet still moved backwards towards the door.

“Yeah...” Santiago said tentatively, the man behind you jostling your arm as he began to step into the doorway.

You felt the man lower the gun from your head to your back, pushing it against your left side, a caution to be quiet which you ignored. “With that guy at that club.” You continued, your eyes locked with Santiago trying to get him to understand. “And you tried to impress me when you shot him, but I just got mad...” You too were now stood in the doorway. You stopped. “well.” None of the men had ever seen you move that fast. You reached your arm to the gun poking at your side, taking it from the man's hand. Before he'd even realised you'd taken it your whole body swivelled around as you twisted the gun around in your hands, raising it and shooting him point blank in his forehead. His body hit the ground with a thud. Your eyes didn't leave the man as you fully took a moment to take him in as you lowered the weapon in your hands.

There was a giddy squeal and the sound of Benny bouncing around excitedly behind you. You turned around stepping forward to hand the gun off to Santiago, finishing the statement you were making before. “Consider us even.” you said, raising your eyebrows to him.

“Oh my god! Did you see that?” Benny continued to bounce around the room. Will and Frankie only just taking a sigh of relief as you moved back towards the body now lying in the doorway. Benny finally came to a stop. “Is anyone else slightly turned on right now?” his filter not stopping the question, quickly permeating the room with it. There was silence from the other three men as you bent down to rummage through the dead sicario’s pockets. The radio silence to Benny's question was deafening to you. You slowly sheepishly turned your head towards the other three men who were still yet to say anything. You're head turn hadn't been slow enough though and you caught the look that Santiago, Frankie and Will quickly shared, before looking at any opposing point of the room they could.

“Well I guess I know what you boys don't talk about when you're out with Benny.” your statement cut through the thick silence. You took a quick look at Benny just long enough to see his face fall. You stifled a small snigger as you turned back to the body in front of you.

“What?” Benny's voice rang out. “What is it you don't talk about when you're with me? What did I miss?” the youngest man searched his brother's faces for answers. They continued to remain silent.

You pulled yourself away from the body, blowing straight past Benny to Santiago. “Does Will know about Italy?” Santiago remains silent but a quick look over to Will and how he's looking at you tells you everything you need to know. “So he does know about Italy.” you say coyly, your gaze turning back to Santiago.

Benny is beginning to get antsy, moving about the room. “What happened in Italy?” Nobody answers Benny and you continue your playful interrogation.

“How much does he know?”

“All of it.” Santiago responds. You look to Fish then back at Santi.

“Even...?” You can see Will's eyes fixed uncomfortably to a spot on the floor out of the corner of your own. Frankie beside him started to relax, his own legs becoming fidgety as he began to rock on the balls of his feet, the conversation making him uncomfortable.

“All of it.” Santiago says again. You suddenly notice Frankie become tense once more. It takes a moment for your brain to process why, but then it's fitting it together. The creaky floorboard in the hallway. You reached out for the gun in Santiago's hand quickly whipping around just in time. BANG. Another body hits the floor in the doorway.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Benny practically squeals again. You turn your head back to Santiago, he has that look in his eyes. The same look he gave you that night in Italy. A warmth suddenly hits between your legs and you have to take a deep breath and centre yourself.

“I thought you said downstairs was all clear.” You say handing the gun over to him again.

“It was.” Santiago's voice was low as he tried to retake control of this situation, but the two of you both knew it was long gone. It had been gone the moment you mentioned Italy.

You took a step back, Benny still hopping about giddily. “Seriously did nobody tell him.” Your eyes roamed over to Frankie's. They locked for a fraction of a second before he purposely turned his gaze away from you. He still slightly resented you for the whole Italy incident. Your eyes finally fell on Will who was now silently looking at you, well aware you were the one fully in command from here on out. 'Wow' you silently mouthed.

“What the fuck am I missing out on?” Benny butted in again, his voice whining like a child.

“We'll tell you when your older.” his older brother finally said, not taking his eyes off you for a second.

---------

Your fingers were swollen red and sore as you carried yet another heavy bag of cash to the van. You quickly dropped it onto the large pile Frankie was loading into the back of the van parked outside the front of the house with a thud. You took a moment to regain your strength ready to go back for the last few bags, watching as the veins in Frankie's muscles strained as he lifted multiple bags at a time, swinging them into the van. You watched as he stopped a moment, realising you were still stood there, a hesitant look on his face, like he wanted to say something but didn't know if now was the right time to say it. You watched as the emotion inside him quickly built from whatever inner conflict he was having. He practically threw the next bag into the van.

You took a tentative step towards the pile of bags, picking one up and lifting it into the back of the van. “Don't do that again.” you heard the man beside you growl.

“Do what? All I did was put a bag in the van-” “Don't gamble with your life like that.” Frankie snapped at you.

“He wasn't going to shoot me.” you tried to keep your voice calm as you reached for another bag, but the slight irritation in how Frankie was treating you was clearly niggling at you.

“You didn't know that.” He said stopping everything he was doing to stare at you.

“Yes I did.” you snapped as you threw the bag in your hand, into the back of the van. You felt him grab your arm, pulling you round to face him. His hand remaining firmly around your wrist. You felt like your skin was burning under his touch.

“No. You took a gamble and began running your fucking mouth off, you were practically taunting him the whole fucking time-”

“He had the safety on.” You spat back at him, cutting off his rant. He looked at you half in shock, half in curiosity.

“What?”

“He had the safety on the whole time.” you said your voice softening trying to make him understand, but the look on his face was slow to change, almost like he still didn't believe you. You snatched your hand out of his grasp. “But thanks for caring.” You laced the statement with a slight venom, almost challenging him. He looked at you longingly then. So much of your relationship with one another going unsaid and sitting heavy between the two of you.

“You know I always fucking cared-” “No.” your voice was commanding.

“What?” he said slightly hurt and confused.

“Frankie, we're not doing this now.”

“Doing what?” Santiago's voice cut between the two of you as he made his way out of the house, a couple of the money bags in his hands.

“Nothing man, nothing.” Frankie said as he took a step back from you. He lifted his hat from his head, using the back of his hand to smooth the hair beneath it, attempting to look anywhere but at you as you went back to loading the bags into the van.

“Benny's just packing up the last two bags.” Will said as he came out to the van. He didn't add the bags in his hands to the pile, instead putting them straight into the back of the vehicle, pushing you out the way so he could get through.

You took a step back to survey the three men before you, as Will and Frankie began working together to haul the last of the bags into the van. “So you guys really telling me Benny knows nothing at all, and I'm not just talking about Italy.” The three men turned to look at you. This was the first time ever you'd been alone with the three of them together since all this started and you were dying for some answers.

“It never came up.” Santi sheepishly answered, shrugging it off.

“But the three of you have talked about this shit?” you questioned, quickly becoming bolder.

“Why, you been feeling your ears getting a little bit hot chica?” Santiago began teasing you.

“No.” you fired back a little too quickly shooting him a death look at the same time. You were surprised though when, instead of Santi coming back with another quip to continue teasing you, it was Will's voice that filled the silence.

“You know I'm beginning to think she get's off on the idea of us talking about her and debating over who did her better.” He said with a low chuckle. You shoot daggers at Will for the low blow but it only makes him smile.

“Well William, if you truly do know everything, then you know it's no competition and you already know who I think the best was.” you are quick to rebuttal, your voice taunting.

“The best at what?” Benny's voice questioned as he brought the last bags out to the van, throwing them in the back.

“Fucking me.” you say shooting him a wink and a cheeky grin. Your voice is so nonchalant when you say it, he knows you're saying it to taunt him. It sounds like such an exaggeration, like the farthest thing from the truth, a lie just to wind him up. He scoffs irritated as you raise your eyebrows at him and make your way towards the front of the van, away from his view. But what he doesn't know, that his brothers do, was that it was completely true. You had just taunted him with the truth and gotten away with it and damn were they impressed.

Santi practically chokes as he tries to hide his laughter, sputtering and coughing from how blatant you were. Will gave a small snicker before looking to his brother with sympathy, patting him on the shoulder. Frankie closed the doors to the back of the van, practically skipping around the side of the vehicle after you. You look back to him and he shoots you a look as if you say 'you're playing with fire' as he reaches out to open the door for you.

You give him a sickly sweet smile in return. He rolls his eyes at you as he leans against the door, waiting for you to hop into the van first and slide past the steering wheel, into the middle. You climb onto the seat but pause, looking directly at Frankie. He truly turns his head to look at you now, the serious look on your face when you address him. “You know it was always you right?” you asked him.

With everything that had happened between you, he genuinely hadn't known, but he could tell by your face you weren't talking just about the sex anymore. He wanted to push you further but the passenger door opened on the other side of the van as Santiago climbed in. When Frankie looked back to you, you had already turned away.

He took the drivers seat beside you, slamming the door shut a little bit too hard. He fumbled with the keys in the ignition. 'Why had you had to drop this on him now?' he thought to himself.

“Fish you okay man?” Santiago's voice rang out in the silence. Frankie's head snapped towards his best friend but his eyes somehow ended up landing on you. He took a moment to steady himself, his fingers going into autopilot as they once more placed the keys into the ignition, turning it over. The van roared to life.

The three of you watched as the Miller brothers took off in a separate car in front of you. “Alright man let's go.” Santi said slapping the dashboard and Frankie put his foot down on the accelerator, following the car in front back into the cover of the trees around them.

Let me know if you want to be added onto the tag list for this fic. I also won’t be adding names just from likes again like I did with the announcement post so if you want to be notified you have to put it in writing for me.

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @itspdameronthings

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #reader insert #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller #what benny doesn’t know #fanfiction

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adorethedistance · 4 years ago

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Baby Fever - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, discussion of reproduction, a child (no-)

Words: 2502

Summary: You and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own.

A/n: This was written in like three hours and I’m exhausted it’s skimmed at best but this is just something I’ve had in my mind and as y’all know by now, writing fics is how I retire my dreamland scenarios of romance. Enjoy my brain giving 82% of her all :)

“You ready, little one?” I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat. Owen and I had been wanting to plan a zoo date for the longest time, but never had the opportunity to until now; when Jer and Carolynn needed a well-deserved day of rest, and Charlie was back in Dieppe for the next month, that left Owen and me as the next in line to take care of 10-month-old baby Shada. The two parents hadn’t decided on a name until after she was born, so the rest of our friends got comfortable with referring to her as ‘baby Shada’ or ‘CJ’ short for ‘Care and Jer’s’ kid.

Owen and I left the house at 8:45 sharp to get to the park in a timely manner. We weren’t too concerned with arriving when the park opened seeing as it was a Wednesday morning in the middle of February. Children should be in school, non-actors should be in the office, and surely other young babies and new moms should be attending mommy and me yoga classes or something.

“Do you have the bag?” I ask, surveying the car for any loose items.

“Yeah, it’s on the floor. Do you want me to carry the bag or the baby first?”

“You babysit first. I can handle tickets.” Owen nods and gingerly unbuckles the car seat to scoop up the currently calm child and slip her into the black baby carrier we opted for instead of a stroller. I put on the backpack with all her baby items and some of our essential possessions, and together we walk to enter the park. CJ is smiling brightly as she takes in all the different sights and sounds of the entrance. The image is just too adorable, I have to make Owen stop under the giant sign to take a picture of the two of them. I send it to both parents as the first update of the day, knowing they won’t treasure the photo as much as I will, because they aren��t in love with Owen in the way that I am.

Owen and I have talked about kids before. Once, on our first date when he asked me if I had any names picked out, which I didn’t. And second, when I informed him we would be entrusted with the care of CJ the following week; it was when we began brainstorming activities to do with her that Owen brought up having our own kids. It took me by surprise that he used the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. A small language thing to pick up on, but a huge life thing to process. He talked about making memories with CJ and being the first ones to take her to the zoo, with the consent of her parents. Truth be told, I don’t love kids or the idea of kids in the way that Owen does, so I was a little hesitant to speak my mind. But I didn’t miss the way he held his hand on my stomach as we fell asleep that night. And I didn’t miss the hopeful glint in his eyes when I’d asked his opinion on a few names I liked the next morning.

“What do you wanna do first, CJ?” Owen’s question elicits an excited squeal from her as a response which makes the two of us laugh. I quickly snag a map from the front stand and survey our route options before I feel Owen’s right hand come to rest on my lower back. I glance up to see him peering at the map over my shoulder. My movement prompts him to face me and give me a soft, comforting smile. I feel like spending forever looking into Owen’s breathtaking eyes, but the baby strapped to his chest has other plans. She begins flailing wildly to convey all the excitement coursing through her little body. We laugh once more and Owen presses a quick kiss to her head, which messes up her hat’s placement on her head. I shake my head, stepping in front of my fiance, completely ignoring him. My tunnel vision hyperfocus is set on adjusting the brim of the bucket hat to protect baby Shada from the sun.

“There we go.” When I look back up Owen is staring at me with the softest closed mouth smile I’ve ever seen, “What?”

“Nothing. Where to, Mamacita?”

“Mamacita? Whatever. I say we take this path that way we can start with the elephants and condors, and that’ll take us to the polar bear cove.”

“Lead the way.”

Owen slips his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers and giving me an affirming squeeze. As we’re walking to the elephant exhibit, CJ’s happy mood means she must wave her tiny hand at every person we pass. Other parents with babies her same age, being the majority of the crowd that’s free on a Wednesday morning, smile and wave back to her. Along the front street, the initial entrance crowd begins to dwindle and there are fewer people for her to wave at. Then, a woman who’s probably in her late forties, early fifties sees CJ wave to her. The woman is wearing black pants, a soft maroon top, and a name tag that reads ‘Linda’. Judging by the fact that she gets to wear red instead of the familiar forest green, I can conclude she’s a higher up when it comes to her position here at the zoo.

“You guys are such a beautiful family.”

“Oh, we’re n-”

“Thank you!” Owen speaks over my refutation. The woman then begins to approach us, and I look up at my serious boyfriend in confusion. He whispers, “Let’s pretend. It’ll be fun.” I mean, I’m not much of an actor but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“How old is she?”

“10 months,” he answers seamlessly, using the back of his index finger to lovingly stroke CJ’s round cheek.

“She is just so darling, I’m sure you two must be very proud. They grow so fast, you know? I remember having little ones running around all the time and suddenly they’re off to college. Is she your first child?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one for now.” For now? Wow Owen, when you create a world you really live in it.

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. They’re only babies for so long.” Linda smiles down and CJ once more before bidding me and Owen goodbye.

“For now?” I ask, incredulously when the woman is out of earshot.

“Yeah,” he shrugs playfully, “CJ’s so well behaved I’m sure we can manage another one.”

“Uh-huh. Are you aware she’s not actually our child?” Owen sighs out a smile and takes my hand as he begins on our trek to the elephant enclosure. When he speaks again, I nearly miss it from how quiet he’s talking,

“S’wishful thinking.”

“What did you just say?” I’m curious to see if he’ll repeat it to my face.

“I said it’s wishful thinking.”

“To have a second child to our nonexistent first child?”

“No,” he nudges my shoulder with his own as we walk, “To have a child period.”

“Nice try. Your baby fever isn’t gonna rub off on me so easily.” He scoffs out a laugh,

“It’s still early. We’ve got the whole day to fix that.” Seamlessly pulling Owen to a stop, I don’t pause our conversation as I step in front of him. My gaze doesn’t meet his eyes as I straighten CJ’s hat once more.

“Well, bear in mind we’re basically on the clock here, and CJ is a tiny person before she’s a persuasion tactic.” I lunge one foot back to make sure the hat is even, and that the baby can still see from under it. When I deem her hat positioning satisfactory, CJ smiles up at me at the same time that paints Owen’s flushed face. He holds his hand straight out in front of his body for me to take, and when I do, he pulls me in to clasp both hands together and rest them on my lower back. Minimal visitors in the zoo is definitely a perk as Owen’s far more physically affectionate without others around. I rest my hands on the portion of his chest that isn’t occupied by CJ’s happy demeanor.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be the mothering type. I’m just not… good with kids.”

“I understand your reluctance… but I’m gonna get you on board by the end of the day.”

“Yeah okay, Joyner. Whatever you say.”

Owen smiles down at me with a love as infinite as the number of stars in the universe. CJ squeals between us and I babble back at her in a higher pitch than my usual speaking voice. She squawks again and we go back and forth like this for a little while until she sticks her tongue out at me in between a smile. My jaw drops in a surprised, amused, and simultaneously offended manner, and I take her chubby little baby foot in my hand and squeeze gently, causing her to screech through fits of giggling.

“When did you learn how to do that? Owen, did you-” The words die on my tongue when I see the expression on Owen’s face. He’s wholly enamored and yet so smug at the same time. I feel my face heat up a little bit; I don’t even have to ask what he’s thinking.

“‘I’m just not good with kids’ my ass.”

“There are impressionable ears around. And I do not sound like that.”

“She’s not gonna remember any of this in a week, and yes. You do.” I glare at Owen with an expression of intolerance but my facade is crumbled as I can’t mask the growing smile he elicits by mimicking my expression.

“Let’s go you two.”

After what felt like an eternity we’ve finally made it to the elephant exhibit. The herd of African elephants are spread across the enclosure, some playing in water, some feeding from hay baskets, and a baby closely following it’s mother as she walks across the paddock. When Owen appears beside me

“Do you need a break? We can switch off and you carry the bag.”

“Sure.” I set the baby backpack on the bench behind us and unbuckle the fastenings of the carrier to prop CJ on the side of my hip. As we wait for Owen to take the carrier off his body, I walk her up to the wooden railing that surrounds the elephants’ enclosure. Of course, the sight ahead excites her and she begins bouncing on my side as a means of conveying her feelings. She makes a sound that I interpret as an interrogative before pointing to the animals.

“You see the elephants, CJ?”

“Uh-huh.” She lifts her tiny baby hand into the air and waves the best she can at the elephants, none of which are even looking our way.

“Are we waving? Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave with her and gauge her smile to be even bigger than when she’d stuck her tongue out two minutes ago.

“Hi ephants!” I freeze mid wave in shock. Did she just-?

“Did you just? Owen!”

“Yeah?” he calls from behind us, still getting all our things in order.

“Did Carolynn or Jeremy say what her first words were?”

“Uhhhh, no. They said she hasn’t been speaking words yet, just consonant sounds,” Owen leaves the items unattended seeing as there’s no one else around, “Why?”

“CJ. Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave at the animals once more, praying that that wasn’t a fluke.

“Hi ephants.” Upon hearing her speak, Owen’s face holds the same expression as mine did just two seconds ago.

“Should we video it and send it to them or pretend it never happened so they can be the ones that hear her first words?”

“Take a video, or take a secret to our graves?” He pretends to weigh the options as if this is the most perilous decision we’ll ever make.

“You’re right, you’re right. Will you grab my phone for me?”

“Where is it?”

“My back pocket that the baby is currently sitting on.” I turn around to let Owen grab the device and unlock it for me.

“Should I just get you guys in the video or the elephants, too?”

“What are you talking about? Get in the video!” I scold him for trying to worm his way out of this memory. “Make yourself useful and revive your long lost vlogging skills.” Owen rolls his eyes but flips to the front facing camera and hits record all the same.

“Say ‘hi mom, hi dad’,” I direct CJ and she merely waves at me, not fully understanding the concept of vlogging at the ripe age of 10 months. “Update number 2: we’re at the elephant enclosure and CJ made some friends. Hey,” I speak quietly to capture her attention. “Can you say ‘hi elephants’?”

“Hi ephants!” She screams and then laughs, throwing her head back to make sure Owen is still present.

“A new word!” I cheer as Owen lowers my phone to stop the recording,

“New skill unlocked.” He hits stop and proceeds to trade me CJ for the phone for a quick second so I can send the video to the not exactly new parents.

“They’re gonna love this.” I click my phone off and tuck it back into my back pocket. Retrieving the baby carrier from the desolate bench, I slip it on to strap myself in before CJ. Once secured, I look up to take her from Owen but blink in surprise that they’re no longer standing in front of me. I turn slightly to my left to see CJ stumbling forward on wobbling legs whilst Owen keeps her standing. He removes his hands from her sides and allows her to grab a hold of both of his index fingers in either hand. Slowly, he walks her closer to where I’m standing one tiny step at a time.

The sight in front of me is so sweet there’s a strange feeling culminating in my chest. A micro trace of baby fever crosses my mind at the thought of Owen teaching our own baby to walk. The smile on his face is unlike anything I’ve seen before and the prospect of having kids suddenly becomes less dreary. I’ve always been afraid of being a bad parent, or messing up someone else’s life, but with Owen, all those fears disappear. Becoming a parent is no longer bleak; the thought of raising kids with someone as loving and enthusiastic as Owen, the world seems all that much brighter.

“Y/n,” he calls to get my attention, unaware I’ve been watching for the past few minutes. When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body, and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple, “I told you so.”

***

A/n: lawd help me I have been putting off so many requests to write self indulgent bs pls don’t hate me.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1 @joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

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roseymess · 3 years ago

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If you want:

My manifestation routine:

Nothing 👀

Like literally,I don't have a specific routine that I follow. Like I affirm,yes,that is something I do heavily. While waking up in the morning,I start affirming while I am in my drowsy state. Again when I am taking shower,when I am listening to subliminals, and again I follow the lullaby metthod i.e. when I am almost asleep but still a bit conscious: I wanna open my eyes but I don't wanna,I start saying my affirmations.

Another thing is persistence. I advice not to change your affirmations or subliminals all the time. I used to do this because I would obsess over the results. But for the last one month I have been using the same 6 Affirmations,7 subliminals that include 2 boosters,3 for manifesting anything and 2 for exam grades. If you feel your affirmations are not tuning to your energy,go ahead and change it but it should be something u feel comfortable with. Like I made my own affirmations from taking examples.

Manifestation is supposed to be fun! It's not a routine,like come on its literally you telling yourself that you already have your desires. I didn't get the concept of vision board. So what I did. I bought a scrapbook of colourful papers and I started decorating it with my own stuff,sort of like a vision board and I feel so happy doing this in my free time. Like I put pictures of my desired college, career,my favourite food,my favourite colour and my fav celebs,my dream mansion,my dream transport and it's absolutely fun! So enjoy your manifestations.

Now this is very important as I might offend two communities together. But this has happened. I am someone who believes in astrology and I also got into tarot. So many times,like this happened to me,to my moots as well. When they sent a reading and then got a negative feedback. I am mentioning those moot who follow law of Assumption and manifestation alright? So,they got a negative feedback and they would be very upset. This happened to me as well. But now that I realise. Tarot is just sensing your current energy. Like,I am happy right now,I might have high vibes. And nothing is written on stone. If you get a reading that what you're manifesting will not happen,well THAT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE OBSESSING OVER THE RESULT! It happened many times that I got positive feedback. But when I got a bit obsessive,the readings came as negative. Now this is your reality. It's upto you if you want to accept the reading or not!! If you accept that negative is gonna happen,guess what..thats what you are manifesting! But if you're like "oh it's just a current check on my energy" and move on thinking you already have your desires,no post can stop you,guess what,you are manifesting your desires!! You have pac,tarot readings that resonates very well with you,you accept it. It gives you happiness. You get a negative feedback,it's alright to be upset but don't just sit down with it. Move on,this is your reality,you are the God of your reality,you can also choose to assume that the reading is not true and that you have your desires. Then also while manifesting a person,let's say you are a Cancer manifesting an Aquarius,then you come across a post that says Cancer x Aquarius is a bad match. Well..idk much about these,anyways,so you assume that's the truth. That is what's gonna happen. Now if you keep affirming 'no,it's a good match' 'its the best match ever' = that is exactly what's gonna happen for you.

The end word is don't be limited. Think limitless. You are powerful,you have control. And also sometimes manifestation can take away something to get to your desire. Like few weeks back I sort of lost my two friends,but now that I realise,they would actually bring a lot of negativity to me(I am not bringing it up),so I would feel so bad back then,but now,I feel absolutely amazing. I still have 3 Friends who are dear to me. And I never get those negative remarks anymore. So while manifesting, remember,don't react to 3D. Because whatever is happening is trying to catch up to your 4D / 5D world where you already have your desires.

Bruh,this got quite big💀Hope this helps. Also no hate to tarot and astrology community. I myself do energy readings and believe in this astro stuff a lot.

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whumpinggrounds · 3 years ago

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Ursula the Sea Witch

all right day two of @whumptober2021 and i am trying the prompt “talking is overrated” + “choking” for my beloveds Liam and Delilah

tagging @hearse-song, @brutal-nemesis, and @whumpy-writings, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

CW: choking, noncon drugging, psychological whump if that’s a thing, brief ableist language, tiny whumper, big whumpee, crying, angst, noncon touch, intimate whumper, creepy whumper

Facedown on the ground, all Liam can see is the wood floor of the cabin under his nose. He can tip his head back a little to keep his forehead from resting flat on the ground, but he doesn’t have enough clearance to really see any of his surroundings except for the panels below him. Still, Liam tries to pay attention, as if anything he can see is going to help him. The light coming through the windows is clear and harsh – is it morning? Afternoon? He’s been asleep for so long he’s not sure, especially now that so much of his rest comes unnaturally. He’s learned to dread the strange, bitter water that Delilah pours oh-so-carefully down his throat.

Or, he mostly dreads it. Sometimes being asleep is so much better than being awake that he gulps the water gratefully and hopes that when he wakes, the nightmare will just be over.

Now would be one of those times. His limbs are his own, his body and mind are his own, but Liam is utterly trapped by the weight of Delilah perched cross-legged on the middle of his back. She presses his bare chest firmly against the boards, which are cold enough to make him want to squirm. Even if Liam could throw her off, he woke up this morning to a brand-new manacle locked around his ankle, one that’s bolted right into the cement of the chimney. He might be able to stand without her on his back, but he wouldn’t get far.

Much more pressingly, Delilah has a belt in her hand, and the leather of it is pressing gently into the thin skin of Liam’s throat. Swallowing hard, he feels his Adam’s apple bob uncomfortably against the wide leather strap. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting like this. It feels like a long, long time.

“Hey, Eric? We’re gonna play a game.” Above him, Delilah’s voice sounds playful, light.

Throat working in quick, shallow pants, Liam moves his mouth soundlessly for a moment, not even sure what part of that he should address. Finally, he goes with the most basic. “My name isn’t Eric,” Liam whispers, so desperately confused he wants to scream. “I-”

Right then, his voice cuts out, because Delilah hauls hard on the belt, and Liam is left choking, gagging, desperately trying to suck in air that won’t come. He’s never felt this before – this raw desperation, the tearing need for oxygen that can’t, won’t, isn’t coming. Feet beating uselessly against the floor, his hands come up to scrape fingernails uselessly against the smooth leather, but almost as soon as they do, Delilah is relaxing her stranglehold, sighing.

“Wrong,” she informs him. One fingernail is tracing nonsense patterns on his spine, and the sensation of her sharp nail against his bare skin makes Liam shudder against the cold wood floors. “C’mon, Eric. It’s not hard. What’s your name?”

“I-I don’t know who you think I am, but my name is Liam-”

The feeling of the belt cutting into his throat is the worst one that Liam knows. It’s not just that his air is cut off – it feels like it’s being taken from him violently, like his throat is closed and his chest collapsing, lungs burning in instantaneous protest. The pain of having his neck crushed is almost secondary – an ache that makes him heave out wracking cough after wracking cough as soon as Delilah releases her hold.

“Wrong again. You’re not very good at this, Eric.” She reaches up, tousles his hair. “It’s a good thing I love you.”

“I don’t know who you are-”

More gagging, gasping, choking. “Fuck,” Liam gasps, as soon as she lets up, and with a put-upon sigh, Delilah chokes him again.

“Princes don’t swear,” she tells him, when she finally lets go, when the red and black dancing spots are finally receding from his vision.

It takes everything in him to maintain his composure, to keep from breaking down and screaming or cursing or crying, but as Liam heaves in choked, jagged breaths, he curls his hands into tight fists and forces the word out slow and careful.

“…p-princes?”

Liam’s voice sounds thin and reedy to his own ears, exhausted and unfamiliar. He wants to demand an explanation, wants to throw her off his back and force her to tell him who she thinks she is – who she thinks he is. More so than that, he wants her to understand she’s made a mistake, it’s not him she wants, and she needs to just let him go.

But Liam doesn’t have the words or the breath for that, and even if he did, Delilah doesn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t play dumb, silly.” Delilah’s hand cups his cheek. “You’re my prince. You’re my Prince Eric, and I’m your mermaid, Ariel.” Her voice takes on a dreamy tone as she slides her palm down the side of Liam’s face. Sour fear turns Liam’s stomach.

She’s not confused. The girl on his back is fucking crazy.

Swallowing hard, and then gagging at the pain in his throat, Liam tries to think. He needs to play along at least a little. It’s clear from the last few minutes, and the bruises forming on his throat, what will happen if he doesn’t. Trying to think carefully, he clears his throat and then has to squeeze his shaking hands into fists to keep from cursing at the pain. Wetting his lips, Liam tries to speak. It takes him a few tries to get words out.

“P-Princess Ariel,” he begins carefully, and on top of him, Delilah lets out a pleased giggle. She bounces a little in place on his back, and it should hurt, but she’s so damned light. So damned light and yet he still can’t get away from her. “Princess, um, Ariel, I think you’ve made a, a mistake?”

The leather rests snugly against Liam’s throat, making him squeeze his eyes shut, anticipating the pain. Delilah doesn’t pull – not yet – but the warning is clear as the belt tightens just a little further. “A mistake?”

“I…I don’t, um, think I’m the prince you’re looking for?”

There’s one moment when Liam thinks she might be listening to him, one breath of pause in which he lets himself hope. Then he feels the belt tighten.

Liam kicks and hits out with his fists, but there’s nothing to do. His hands come up to try to haul the belt off, but she has it cinched around his throat, and he’s left thrashing uselessly, panting without air, fingernails leaving long furrows in the skin of his neck. The pain is everywhere and it is searing – cutting through his lungs, burning up his throat, making his head ache so fiercely his vision swims. Liam bucks against the floor, heaving, but Delilah uses the belt like a leash, holding her body on top of his, and every contortion only makes the noose grow tighter. It goes on for what feels like forever. It goes on so long that Liam is sure he’s going to die.

When Liam’s vision is so black it’s almost gone, something changes. There’s a loosening, an allowance for a tiny breath of air. Liam sucks it in like he’s trying to drink the ocean through a straw, and that sets off a long and agonizing round of coughing that nearly sends him into unconsciousness – every time he brings in a new breath of air, it’s stolen by a cough, all relief denied. By the time he’s aware of himself, he has tears running down his cheeks, painful sobs heaving through his swollen throat. The leather still rests tight against his skin.

“F-fuck,” he hisses, and then screams as the belt firms inexorably against his trachea, fast and unforgiving as a striking snake. This time, when she stops, he lets his forehead thunk hard against the wood floor. Liam lets himself bawl, tears coming fast and hard, each hiccup and sob tearing through his bruised esophagus like a personal insult. It’s hard enough to breathe without worrying about the tears and the snot – and then Delilah starts to pull the belt taut again.

“N-no!”

“Princes don’t cry like this, Eric.” Delilah sounds faintly disgusted. “This is icky.”

A high ringing starts in Liam’s ears as he thrashes. Somewhere distantly below it, he can hear a horrible gagging, a choked-off grunting gasp that he knows must be coming from him. It’s an animal sound, a plea for air with no interruption from higher order thinking. He goes so much faster this time, vision swimming, lungs seizing, and when the blackness rushes up to meet him, Liam can’t do a thing to stop it.

Gasping and spluttering, Liam comes to with a feeling like drowning. There’s water in his face and his mouth, cold and alarming, so he sits up fast, but the motion makes his head spin. Groaning, he grabs at his face, trying to steady himself.

Information comes to him in stages. He’s alive. He’s awake. He’s soaking wet. His body hurts, his head hurts – every part of him hurts, but nothing else comes close to touching the searing ache attacking his throat. Gingerly, he prods at his neck with one finger, hissing at the immediate spike in pain. Every breath feels like he’s swallowing sandpaper.

“Eric! Eric, are you alright?”

Liam looks up and there she is – Delilah, in all her delicate glory, her long brown hair braided back from her face, her tiny hands clasped rapturously to her chest. When she looks at him, her blue eyes are wide and almost dazed. She smiles, her elfin face alight. “Eric?”

Letting his head sink into his palms, Liam tries to take a deep breath, but it won’t come. He can’t get air into his lungs, or at least not far enough to make a difference. He can only breathe shallowly, so shallowly that even now he still feels like he might pass out.

The girl in front of him weighs probably half what he does, and she’s out of her mind besides. Big strong Liam, college lacrosse Liam, works-out-every-day-but-Sunday Liam, could not, should not, cannot be held captive by this glowing little girl.

But there’s a manacle around his ankle and not nearly enough air getting to his muscles and his brain. He feels so helpless he wants to cry, but he has to keep the tears small, silent, manly enough to escape Delilah’s notice.

“Yes, Ariel.” His voice comes out so battered, hoarse and strained, that for a moment, Liam doesn’t quite know who’s talking. “Thank you. I’m all right.”

Her hand comes to rest on his blonde hair, fingers running through it, and Liam can’t tell if the implication is that she’s protecting him…or possessing.

#whumptober #whumptober2021 #whumptoberday2 #whumptober2021day2 #liam and delilah #big whumpee #tiny whumper #creepy whumper #choking #crying #angst #breath control #control #emotional whump #nonconsensual touching

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Come Back To Me (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has gone through hell and back to reach his happiness, and his happiness came in the form of the love of his life. But what happens when she’s ripped away? What happens when she comes back and can no longer be happy herself? How does he get her back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: AAAAANNNNNGGGGGSSSTTT, sooooo much angst. Lil bit of fluff as well (also, we’re gonna pretend like Endgame didn’t really happen, and WandaVision wasn’t as emotionally devastating), smut

Warnings: extreme sadness, depression, refusal to eat, unprotected sex, allusion to ra*e, but not the act. if there is anything else, please let me know and message me :) (MINIMALLY EDITED)

Word count: 9301 (it gon be a ride)

Bucky’s been scared many times in his life before. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but most of the time, even as the Winter Soldier, he was terrified. Afraid to fail and of the consequences that would follow, afraid to succeed and have another person’s blood on his hands, afraid to look in the mirror, for the face staring back at him wasn’t quite his own, and even afraid to sleep in the dark, terrified the spirits of his victims would come out for revenge. But he’s never been as scared as he was in that moment, pointing a gun at the head of the love of his life, while she did the same, only without any clue as to who Bucky was.

His mind was still processing how they’d gotten in that position, and it refused to accept it, because nothing, not a single thing had clued him in on how that day could turn south so quickly.

It had started off as usual with Bucky’s flesh hand sliding down Y/N’s naked spine, as she had her face pressed against his toned chest, small snores escaping into the air, while a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth.

Bucky couldn’t help the smile lifting up his lips. It was moments like those, he believed in good things. 5 AM, the New York sky dark and without a trace of morning light probably until 8 AM, with his favourite person in the world pressed up against his side, soaking up his warmth, leeching it off without any shame after having been satisfied (or at least he hoped so) by his tongue, fingers and, well, other things as well.

Y/N shifted a bit, trailing her palm up to his abs and settling in the middle of his chest to feel his strong heartbeat. Bucky laid his palm over hers. Even in her sleep, she didn’t hesitate to entwine their fingers and bring them under her chin, closer to her, as if she needed him next to her at all times.

He felt bad, he truly did, as he squeezed Y/N’s side, making her frown. “You gotta wake up, dollface. We gotta get ready.”

“Dunantdo,” she mumbled, and if Bucky hadn’t been there to take care of her drunken ass more times than he could count, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher her slurred words as “don’t want to.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “And believe me, there’s nothing in this world I’d wanna do more than lay here with you… well maybe go down on you a few more times at some point as well, but the mission won’t happen on its own.”

Bucky felt her chest rumble against his, as she laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind you going down on me, mission and all.” Her words were clearer, but still laced with sleep, and muffled by his skin while he felt her calves run against his as she stretched out.

“I know you don’t. The missing hair chunks on my head prove that.”

“Hey!” she slapped his chest but soothing it immediately blearily looking at him with a pout. “I didn’t pull that hard!”

“I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “In fact, if you ever stop doing that, I will make sure you regret it, but unfortunately we don’t have time for a rendezvous. Jet’s gonna be ready in an hour.”

Finally, after having accepted the fact she won’t get any more sleep, Y/N lifted herself to rest on her elbow right next to Bucky’s ribs and opened her Y/E/C sleep-filled eyes to look into his cerulean ones. “We can still squeeze in a quickie if we hop into the shower together.”

“We can,” Bucky hummed, metal fingers lifting up to cup her cheek and place a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “But you know a quickie for us is never quick.”

Y/N let out a scoff and pushed away from their fluffy duvet, making her shiver as she placed her feet on the cold floor. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one with the super-soldier stamina.”

“And you,” he pinched her ass making her squeal before giving him the middle finger and taking the red Henley she’d so happily taken off his body the night before only to put it on herself, “are the completely irresistible one. Can you blame me for wanting to spend eternity between those two legs in every way possible?”

The smile she threw him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked, but instead of joining him in the warm embrace of the bed, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. “Keep talking, Mr Charmer. Might just get you what you want.”

Bucky was happy about having super speed as well with how quickly he hopped out of the bed and pressed her against the cold tile wall.

***

Much to Steve’s annoyance, although they were barely fifteen minutes late, Bucky and Y/N were late, and when he saw the smug grins both of them sported, he genuinely thought his eyes would get stuck at the back of his head with the hard roll he gave to them.

“As a new policy,” he started, flipping over the mission file, “I’m putting you two on a celibate streak.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, plopping down on one of the metal benches as the Quinjet lifted in the air. “Really, Steve? Do you truly want to deal with Bucky like that? Cause I know, I don’t.”

“Well, your fondueing is disrupting the schedule.”

“Oh relax,” Nat butted in, throwing Y/N a chocolate bar, given how no one had had time to eat proper breakfast. “It’s not like the HYDRA base was going to suddenly disappear.”

“It could’ve,” the blond super soldier countered.

Nat rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the smile she had on her face. “Which is why we have an inside man, who as of three minutes ago has confirmed – they’re still there. And by the looks of it, not even trying to run.”

Bucky’s arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “See? Everything’s still on track. Besides, from what I heard from Sam, he’s loving the whole under-cover thing so we were doing him a favour.”

Tony had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and joined in on everyone discussing Y/N’s and Bucky’s sex life, so that was her cue to switch the comms in her ear from ‘communication’ setting to the ‘music’ setting, leaning against Bucky’s side and closing her eyes, cashing in on those lost sleep minutes she’d spent in the shower with her lover.

When they had about forty minutes left in the air, Bucky once more woke Y/N up as she’d fallen asleep while Steve and Tony went over the last briefing.

“Bucky and I will take the South-side entrance,” Steve said, pointing at the holographic map Tony had pulled up. “Y/N, Nat and Wanda you take the East, and go as easy as you can, Red.” Steve nudged his chin towards Wanda who nodded. “Just because you can bend reality doesn’t mean you can bend your health. That’s where the main intel storage unit. Get as much as you can and get out. Tony will take the air and wait until Sam joins before blowing everything up. Clint, Bruce and Thor have all checked in, and are already in their positions on the ground as blitz attack. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y has confirmed everyone’s location away from the blast zone Tony will detonate the bombs Sam has set up inside. Got it?”

Affirmative nods came from everyone on board, as they went to do final checks on their gear and equipment.

“Be careful out there, alright?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s neck as she double and triple checked her ammunition count, strapping a sword to her back as well, just in case. Her obsession with Medieval fantasy shows giving her a reason to make Tony pay for her lessons.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Y/N gently patted Bucky’s cheek before giving him a peck on the cheek as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist. “We always are.”

But where typically she was right (most of the time), it was in that instance where she couldn’t be further from the truth if she’d tried.

Despite having Sam on the inside and him having gone through great lengths to make the infiltration as easy as possible, getting inside the building had been suspiciously easy, and that had set off everyone’s alarm bells, but knowing how important gathering the information was, they pressed on, keeping the thought that it could be a trap at the back of their minds at all times.

Thor, Bruce and Clint had started their ground attack two minutes before the rest had joined, with Vision guiding and disabling every system possible from back at the tower, so Tony and F.R.I.D.A.Y could put all of their focus on retaliating against the helacarriers coming their way.

“Cap, we’re in,” Natasha announced, ducking through the door, as Wanda covered her six, and Y/N lead the way in front, bullet shells flying out from her rifle.

Their comms crackled with echoes of gunfire outside as Tony lead them through the place right until they got to the main room where the whole system mainframe resided in.

“Five-minute countdown commenced,” Y/N said it out loud to inform the rest of their team, as she stood behind Wanda, who’d created a red shield of magic, keeping the assault away and them inside the room.

Five minutes until they had to get out of the building because in eight minutes time Tony and Vision, having infiltrated HYDRA’s system would blow everything to bits. If that failed, Wanda was there to provide a safety dome for the three of them, but it was just as a failsafe. Even though she now had full control of her powers, understood them better than ever, taking in a blast that will level a whole ass building was still a lot and there was no guarantee bricks and beams wouldn’t just settle right over them to then fall on top the women, she was still recuperating from a rival witch attack and it had taken out a bit more energy from her than usual.

“How’s it looking over on your end, Vis?” Wanda asked through the comms, connecting back to the rest of the team in the tower.

“The files are coming in, but too slowly,” his smooth voice invaded everyone’s earpieces. “And unfortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y’s mainframe won’t allow for a faster download, as she needs to scan everything for viruses.”

“Should’ve used a flash-drive,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she watched the HYDRA agents line outside the room, creating a two-level firing squad basically.

“Last time we did that, the files corrupted the drive and then erased themselves,” Tony butted in, then groaned as something hard hit him. “And no one needs to hear you complain about losing the six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine again.”

Y/N just rolled her eyes and steadied her rifle against her shoulder once Nat gave the go-sign. Then something beeped through everyone’s comms. The three-minute countdown before the whole building went down.

“We’re barely at seventy-six percent,” Nat’s tone was calm, but the frustration didn’t go unnoticed by others.

“Plan B then.” Wanda changed her stance a bit, but not by much as to not arouse any suspicion from the agents. If they could be taken out by the blast instead of her it’d be less energy used on her part.

“Are you sure?” Sam finally butted in, having gotten in contact with Bucky who’d given him a comm linked just with their interface. “We can try and delay the blast,” Sam said right as Bucky commanded him to do so.

“No,” Wanda stated. There were already at the two-minute mark. “Get out. We’ll take cover once the files are ours.”

“Y/N,” she heard her lover start, but she just shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Wanda’s right. Just be here to pull us out from the rubble. I have no want to climb through the wreckage.”

A deep, long, exasperated sigh echoed in her ears, and it made her smile. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

“Love you too, hot stuff.”

A chorus of gags followed shortly after their little display of affection, and even though they were nowhere near one another they rolled their eyes almost at the exact same time, as Vision told Wanda to stay safe.

“You owe me a foot massage, Vis.”

“Gross.” Y/N chuckled.

Wanda just threw her a smirk. “Imagine how we all feel about you and Bucky.”

“Okay, we’re down to sixty seconds!” Tony said, making Y/N nervously glance back at Nat.

The assassin just shook her head. “Eighty-seven percent.”

She gritted her teeth. If the building went out before they got the files they’d be stuck with just what they had. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please speed up a bit, the place is about to get blown to bits.”

“Rerouting the files to a different server,” the A.I. was immediately on it. “Will have to do the scan later.”

“Thirty seconds, guys!” Steve shouted as whoever was still near the base scrambled to get out.

Nat’s head whipped back to the computer screen. “Almost there.”

But the whole thing seemed to have made the HYDRA agents realise something was amiss, yet it was too late for them. As Sam counted off the last five seconds, Natasha rushed to the other two women, grabbing them by their waists and crouching down while Wanda created a red dome of magic, explosions shaking the whole house.

For a second the rumbling felt more like someone shaking you awake from a deep sleep until the walls of the room exploded, raining fire, brick and metal down on them.

That would’ve been fine if not for the fact that the floor underneath them decided to disappear as well, an array of curses coming from their mouths as Wanda immediately rounded out the shield while the rest of their teammates kept nagging them to respond.

“Y/N, I swear to everything you hold dear, I will kill you myself if you die,” Bucky pretty much screamed, while she groaned as the sudden shift in balance had made her hit herself in the ribs with the rifle.

She gritted her teeth, as Wanda used more of her powers to stabilise them. “We’re fine,” she responded. “No need to bring in the cavalry yet.”

A deep sigh from what seemed like everyone echoed in her earpiece, and when Wanda was sure there’d be no second shockwaves from the blast or no debris that could fall right on top of them where she’d need to take her focus away, she flew the three women out of the ruined building and onto the grassy knoll where the team stood waiting.

Bucky was instantly next to Y/N, pulling her into his body and her lips against his once Wanda released her from the energy bubble.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Sam mumbled, and it was followed by a small yelp when someone hit him in the side.

Y/N threw him a mischievous grin when she pulled away. “Don’t be a Bitter Betty. The offer to set you up still stands.”

Sam cackled, as everyone had now regrouped and together were marching away to where the jet sat disguised between the trees. “Hard pass. You’re a worse matchmaker than Steve.”

“Hey! Amelia was an amazing girl.”

“She is except for the fact that she’s not interested in men.”

Steve’s cheeks reddened up a bit, as Tony gave him a sympathetic pat. “ ‘S not my business to ask what people’s sexuality is. And blame yourself. You’re the one who’s called Sam.”

“Oh, don’t you even –“ but his words were cut off midway as gunfire rained down on them from the sky.

Instantly Wanda threw up a shield once more, Bucky going to cover Y/N with his body, but HYDRA opening fire from the top had left their sides unprotected, and a well-aimed shot from a bazooka ripped everyone apart.

The blast was minimised thanks to Wanda and her quickly directing a part of her magic to contain it, but the missile still threw them away.

Y/N’s head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the loud noise of the blast, because of her having hit her head against a tree trunk, or because of all the screams from her teammates, yet she had zero time to recuperate as an agent rushed towards her, knives ready for a kill.

The first one embedded itself inside the tree, and barely not inside her head, as she moved to the side in the last minute, but a small sting still crept along the side of her head where he’d managed to split the skin.

She was up and rolling away, grabbing one of her own knives from the side of her leg, finally unsheathing her sword. There was no time to put more clips in her guns.

The first agent was quick work for Y/N, I mean he only three more knives left, and he’d been one of the unlucky ones to stand next to the building when it went off, so the shrapnel had ripped a piece of his Kevlar open giving her the perfect place to put her sword in, but the next ten were not as easy.

She was worn out, tired from having experienced two explosions and some of the agents were new backup, which meant they had more strength and energy, but she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her.

At the back of her mind, Y/N heard everyone chiming in as to where they were, how many people were after them if they needed backup, but mostly Y/N heard Bucky’s calls that he was coming to get her, even though she hadn’t requested help, she was too busy dodging bullets and knives to even respond.

She was human, she needed help, she wanted help, but then something odd occurred to her – most, from what she’d heard through the comms, were fighting maybe four to five people at a time, with the exception of Wanda, Tony, Thor and Hulk who had tanks and cars going after them, while Y/N had a group of twenty to twenty-five people to manage.

It was an ambush, it dawned on her.

She wanted to scream at herself ‘No shit, the whole thing is an ambush’, but it was an ambush of Y/N specifically, which was odd given how she was pretty much one of the few who had no direct ties to HYDRA, but that one moment of confusion was enough for someone to land a slice to the side where her own suit had a hole in it.

“Oh, we don’t want you,” a voice went through her comms that she didn’t recognise. It was muffled as if someone was whispering through someone else’s mic. “But we’ll hurt you more than ever.”

An unsettling quiet settled around before she clearly recognised Bucky breathing out a ‘no’ and then a panicked ‘Y/N!’ rip through his throat. Her head whipped to see one of the most frightening sights of her life that will forever be ingrained in her mind.

Bucky was laying on the ground, completely paralysed without the ability to even flex a muscle, blue eyes turned towards her in terror and helplessness as he watched while nine more agents stormed towards her.

She was capable, of course. He’d even experienced how capable the girl was on his own skin, and it had left his super-soldier skin bruised and battered for a few days. But right now, she was tired, she had zero ammo left, all of her knives were embedded in the heads or chests of other assailants and somewhere along the way her sword had snapped in half, leaving her with a jagged piece of steel, which was also protruding out from someone’s chest. Y/N had nothing, but her punches and kicks left. And even she knew there was no way she’d last long enough to get back to the jet in one piece.

So, gathering whatever strength remained in her body, Y/N retaliated on last time. She heard people shouting that they were coming for her, and for a moment she truly believed so when a red ball of magic hit a group of seven agents knocking them down, but when Y/N’s eyes flitted to where it’d come from, she saw the agents subdue Wanda, as they'd somehow managed to put an electroshock collar around her neck. She fell to her knees gasping in pain.

All of it, Y/N realised, every single thing that had happened had been a distraction. They’d split them apart, and the Avengers had most likely helped HYDRA accomplish their goal when the bomb went off.

For a moment she wondered why’d they’d want to take her, why not take their ‘weapons’ back, but just as quickly came the realisation of their words.

Someone grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her down.

Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids, and her teeth clanked together. She was lucky her tongue hadn’t been between them.

Bucky screamed as if someone was ripping his heart from his chest.

A gun hit her on the head.

And then everything went black.

***

Bucky was going insane. He’d trade having his brain being put through the meatgrinder for seventy years once again if that meant Y/N was back with him, but the empty space in his bed, the unused shampoo and conditioner bottles, the dirty cup in the sink told him otherwise. She was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

For two weeks he was basically a zombie, barely eating and functioning, spending most of his time by the interrogation room’s computer, following up on dead-end leads and any breadcrumb he could find, yet every single time he thought he’d gotten something as if life was mocking him, it turned into dust, just like his hope slowly was.

There was pretty much no one else but him, Sam and Wanda left in the tower, as the rest had split off into teams to go and search every left-over HYDRA base in the world. The only reason he wasn’t out there was because Steve had benched him.

“You’re compromised,” he’d said. Bucky couldn’t say he wasn’t.

Sam had stayed behind because during his last raid he’d gotten hit by some gas, rendering him pretty much useless for half a week, and no one felt comfortable enough to ask him to put his life on the line before a full recovery.

And Wanda… well, Wanda wasn’t taking the whole thing too great either, but she was still functioning, so she was just waiting for the jet to come in and fly her out to Serbia with Vision for a potential lead on Y/N.

Defeated for the night, he grabbed the coffee cup that once had been filled and trudged his way to the kitchen area. God, fucking hell, how much did it hurt to even breathe.

Just as he was about to pour himself another cup of the burning black liquid, all of his senses went haywire, and he spun around to look at the hallway of the living room. He instantly recognised the shadow standing in the middle of it, how the shape curved and sloped in such a familiar way. How could he not, when that shadow belonged to the woman, he intended to spend the rest of his life with, when his hands had memorised each and every way she was formed.

“Dollface?” his voice cracked at the end, but when she entered the light, instead of warmth filling his heart at the relief of her being back, ice-cold fear rushed through him at the sight of the black muzzle across her nose and mouth, not to even mention the HYDRA symbol in the middle of the chest of her tactical suit.

The first shot rang out right after he blinked, giving him barely enough time to dodge it, but Y/N was already on the move rushing towards him and kicking her leg out so that her knee would connect with Bucky’s chin.

A sickening crunch echoed through the room, as his head met the marble floor, bright lights flashing behind his eyes. He could even feel his teeth vibrate from the impact. It was this second which he used to somewhat regain a sense of place, that Y/N used to straddle him down, hand going behind her back to pull out a gun, but Bucky knew her. He knew her moves and how she left her left side open.

When his forehead connected to Y/N’s nose, he almost vomited at the feeling of bone-crunching against his skin, but it gave him enough time to deliver a blow to her side, disarming her before grabbing her bicep and pulling her arm behind her back, his own metal appendage wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him.

“Come on, sweetheart!” he was pleading, but his grip unyielding to her struggles. “Fight this. I know you can.”

But to his horror, HYDRA had dug their nails into her mind deeper than he ever thought was possible, as she smashed the back of her head against his nose once more, red blood spilling everywhere.

He staggered back, palm cradling his face, but he still had one free to block the fist that was coming in his direction. This caught her off guard for a millisecond, but not long enough for Bucky to do anything, as she smashed her foot against his knee, bringing him down, yet he’d expected it, using the position to his advantage and grabbing Y/N behind the legs, yanking her towards him, and making her back hit hard against the floor, dizzying and knocking the air out of the woman.

It took him three seconds to slide over to the gun she’d discarded and to stand up, and it took three seconds for her to flip herself up and aim the gun that’d still been strapped to her thigh.

Both of them were shaking, but both for different reasons. Bucky was shaking because he was making the love of his life look down the barrel of a gun, while she was shaking because the only thought on her mind was about if she didn’t finish the mission, the consequences would be more horrible than anything HYDRA had done to her before.

“I don’t want to hurt you! Please snap out of it!” he hollered but didn’t lower his weapon. It went against all of his instincts to be in that position, even when the two sparred, Bucky, to Y/N’s annoyance who was hoping for a real fight, pulled his punches. It was unnatural for him to even consider harming her.

She cocked her gun, didn’t even hesitate.

“Sorry, can’t do that. You’re my mission.”

Bucky took in one last breath.

It hitched in his throat.

He blinked away the tears pooling at his bottom lashes.

He’d never pull the trigger.

She steadied her aim.

Bucky closed his eyes.

But the bullet never came. At least not for him.

The yelp of pain made him open his eyes just to see Y/N’s body jerk to the side and drop to her knee, hand clutching at her shoulder, with Sam behind her, his own gun aimed at her with a little stream of smoke coming out of the barrel.

Yet the second her shock passed Y/N swiftly turned to Sam, gun in her usable palm when her body seized up, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

Bucky was panting, as he looked to see Redwing, two blue lights on each side dying out, as it deactivated the tasers. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but then he was by Y/N’s side, pulling her body up to cradle against his own.

“What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky yelled, hovering his left hand over Y/N’s mouth. When the metal fogged over, his whole frame literally shuddered in relief, as he went on to the next job – stopping the bleeding before her breathing stopped.

“She was gonna put a bullet between your eyes!”

“You didn’t have to shoot her!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam mocked, dropping to his knees and shredding apart a kitchen towel to press against the wound. “Would you have rather had your brains splattered against the floor?”

“You had Redwing taser her! That was enough!”

“If I hadn’t shot her, Redwing wouldn’t have been able to taser her.”

He hated the fact wounding Y/N had been a necessary step in subduing her. No, Bucky told himself, not her. Not his Y/N, but whoever HYDRA had placed in her mind.

As gently as possible, he scooped up her body and with Sam in tow made his way to the med bay.

F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted the medical staff of the situation, so they were ready when Bucky came in. Instantly two nurses took his girl from his arms and laid her down on a gurney, Helen Cho stepping up with surgical gloves.

“A through and through in the shoulder,” she remarked more for the medical records than anyone else. “She’ll have a few painful weeks of recovery, but nothing fatal.”

Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still, he didn’t let anyone touch Y/N without him being beside her. As Helen patched up her shoulder and strapped her down on the cell bed, he was still there beside her, both hands clutching onto her palm, not moving an inch away.

A little while after Helen had left, he felt a presence hovering behind him, and Sam stepped into the room, leaning against the wall, brown eyes looking over Y/N.

“How is she?”

Bucky sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. They were cracked and on the verge of bleeding despite the regenerative cream, Dr Cho had applied. “Asleep,” he mumbled. “So that’s better, I guess. Gives her time to heal.”

He heard Sam shuffle around a bit, and then he entered Bucky’s peripheral as he sat down on a chair next to the bed.“It took them thirty years to break you, yet it took them two weeks to break her…” Sam said biting on his lip, and the statement made anger course through Bucky’s veins.

“Are you seriously calling her fucking weak?” He snapped looking at his fellow Avenger. “You have no idea what kind of torture they pu-“

“I’m not calling her weak,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N is one of the strongest people out there. What I’m saying is – back then it took them years to break a person… now it took them barely fourteen days… what else have they ‘improved’ on?”

The thought of Y/N having her mind ripped apart and then put back together as if she was some ragdoll made bile rise in Bucky’s throat, and it didn’t settle when he thought of how far that horrid machine had come since he’d been in one.

But as much as Bucky wanted revenge, as much as he wanted to destroy HYDRA, to make sure what happened to Y/N never happens again to anyone else, let alone if what Sam implied was true, he couldn’t leave her, not when she would need a familiar face the most.

He gulped, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her hand to steady himself. Just the thought of her in all that pain made him go to the edge of breaking apart. “She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?” If there was one thing Bucky appreciated from Sam it was his honesty.

“In the long run most likely. You’d be the proof of that…” Sam sighed. “But first, we gotta make sure she doesn’t shut people out.”

But that was most definitely easier said than done, given how the second Y/N woke up, which was about a day later after being knocked-out cold when she realised what had happened, it was not like a wall had magically appeared between her and anyone from the team, but a fucking fortress surrounded by an impenetrable mountainous barrier, and she was the only citizen in that mind castle. And Bucky was the first one behind the door.

It broke his heart to see Y/N pretty much shut down. She refused to eat, barely drank the water provided, and couldn’t sleep one bit, yet what hurt most was she absolutely rejected even the thought of going back to their shared room, and instead stayed in her barren cell, white walls, with a thin blanket and a paper-like pillow. It got so bad they had to put her on an IV drip so she wouldn’t waste away. But it didn’t matter to her. She was like a ragdoll.

It was about five days later when she said her first words. Y/N had her head in her hands, matted Y/H/C strands spilling between her fingers, as her nails dug deeper into her skull. That’s the position she’d been sitting in for the past five hours, not even bothering to lift her eyes as a paper plate with a meal, a single plastic spoon next to it and a paper cup of water was slid through the opening at the bottom of her cell door. She wasn’t hungry anyway. In fact, what she really wanted was to disappear from the surface of the earth, for the ground to open and be swallowed by molten lava or have a sharknado crash in and get eaten by a great white.

“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to the door. He’d been asking that since the first time she opened her eyes, but never received a response, so when the scoff she let out was almost inaudible, but he still picked up on it, he straightened out. “Just peachy,” Y/N mumbled. “Absolutely fantastic. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

“Y/N…”

He really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could you possibly say… but he had to at least try, given how miserable Bucky was. He’d heard him sob so loud through two closed doors and a running shower, that he had to do something.

Sam swallowed hard before entering the room and cautiously, keeping as much space as possible between the two, sat down next to Y/N. He wasn’t afraid of her. He could never be. But he knew she needed to let him closer on her own terms. “You can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep everything in. If you don’t wanna talk to the shrink, it’s fine, but at least talk to someone else…”

“I am talking to you.”

“Yes, but you know who I mean.”

“How am I supposed to even look at him?” Her head shot up, and tears threatened to spill down her face. “How am I supposed to talk to him? To touch him, knowing I almost killed him.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” The words were a hiss. “It was me. I understood everything I was doing, I knew who he was, I knew what we were to one another, yet…” she choked in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to say the truth. “I wasn’t going to hesitate. I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t gotten involved, one more second and Bucky would’ve been dead. Because of me.”

“HYDRA messed with your brain,” Sam stated. “I know that everyone knows that and Bucky most of all. Why do you think he couldn’t pull the trigger?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“No, because he’s been in the exact same situation.”

She bit her lip. All her brain was doing was screaming that Sam was right, to listen to him, he knew what he was talking about, but the guilt, the absolutely corrosive horror at herself for what she was going to do wouldn’t let common sense come through. “I just.” Y/N choked and then cleared her throat. “Just tell him I don’t want to see him. I – I can’t see him.”

Sam did know heartbreak. He’d felt it when his first girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d felt it in the army when his friends lost limbs and lives, and now he felt it looking at two of the people he’d grown closest to struggle to find one another and themselves.

He cleared his throat standing up and wiping hind palms down his thighs. “Wanda is also – “

But Y/N didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No.” She shook her head. “No one. Please.” She tucked her face against her knees. “I just wanna be alone.”

And so he left her alone. In fact, everyone did so.

For a whole month, the usually lively tower was a glass structure of sombre and pain. Everyone was hurting. Wanda had retreated to her room, sitcoms on the rerun, Vision always by her side as she tried to manage the sadness of one of her dearest friends going through such a tough time and the guilt of not being able to help Y/N, to save her from that pain. Nat and Clint along with Tony had locked themselves in one of the lower levels of the tower analysing the data she’d gathered. They needed to occupy themselves with something, otherwise, they’d be overcome by their own thoughts and they were too dark to manage at that moment. Bruce and Thor had relegated themselves to the lab doing experiment after experiment, trying to find out how HYDRA had managed to do such damage to Y/N.

Steve, however… Steve was doing quite bad. He felt probably the most amount of guilt than the rest of his teammates. He’d taken up the role of the leader, he was supposed to make sure everyone stayed safe. Yes, they were the most skilled people in the world, but they trusted him to make the best calls. And him not having taken into account a blitz attack from HYDRA after their blitz attack had broken two of his friends because Bucky was doing just as bad as Y/N, if not even worse.

He wouldn’t sleep, he couldn’t; Steve heard his cries each night until, at twelve of one AM, they’d cease, and he’d make his way to the cells. Steve had told Y/N a week after she’d been brought back that there was no reason for her to stay in there. She’d just sat on the bed, arms around her knees and staring at the wall. She didn’t go back to her room.

But each night Bucky would sit by the glass doors and look at the frame of the love of his life, curled underneath a white duvet, a single pillow underneath her head (Y/N loved pillows, she couldn’t sleep without at least four of them) body in a foetal position. She looked so broken. She was. And because of that, so was he.

It was about three AM at night, when his routine was shaken up by none other than Y/N. Typically she’d sleep through the night not even stirring, slipping into the cot at nine PM and then waking up at six AM when Helen came in to switch her IV. She was eating now, but still too little for it to be enough.

However, that night she was stirred awake by the feeling of someone watching her, not the camera that was always on but by human eyes.

That was the first time she’d seen Bucky since having woken up and regaining control of her body.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, and his whole body straightened out. Y/N remained under the covers, while Bucky sat by the doors still. His palm pressed against the glass.

“Hi, doll.”

Two words, but that was enough for the dam to break. Tears spilt down her face, and without a second to spare Bucky had rushed inside and laid down next to her, strong arms weaving around her shaking body, as his own pain merged with hers.

All Y/N could manage to say was ‘I’m so sorry,' and it became a mantra she repeated in Bucky’s chest, hoping that somehow the words would find their way and settle beneath his skin so he could understand with his whole being how much she meant them.

“Please.” He was close to sobbing by that point, hand moving to cup her cheek. “Please let me help.”

“I can’t, Bucky! I can’t!” Y/N was close to complete hysterics by this point. “Every time I even think about you, I remember the emptiness, the absolute numbness that was in me, when I pointed a gun at your face, and I meant to kill you! I was going to pull the trigger, if not for Sam… So,” she gulped looking down at the ground, at their feet. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to let you anywhere near me when I’m terrified of myself.”

The grip he had on her face, was tight, strong and sure. “Because it wasn’t you. I know what it’s like to have your brain scrambled around and rearranged with false truths and present them as real… but the thing is – they’re not. And you taught me that. You were the one who made me realise it, dollface. Now let me do the same for you.”

“I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I see that – that monster staring back at me.”

“Reflections are deceiving,” Bucky whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “Mirrors can’t and will never show the truth. It’s a twisted, flipped and made-up version of us, and we can’t allow ourselves to believe it. It’s not us.”

And despite the pain, despite the guilt and anxiousness, Y/N chuckled, letting out a small sound of happiness for the first time in a while. “When did you get so wise, Gandalf?”

She could feel the relief that flooded Bucky’s body slowly seep into her own. “Well, re-reading ‘The Hobbit’ helped… but more so you. You taught me that. You made me realise the man that haunts my nightmares might have my face, but it’s not me. He’s not me and I’m not him.”

“Will you…” Her voice shook as she said the words as if there was a possibility, he could say no. “Will you help me?”

“You never, ever have to ask for help. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need, I’m always here. I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to go through that.”

And for the first time in six weeks did Bucky get to hug Y/N. Feeling her body melt into his almost made him have a breakdown of his own, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed onto him like her life depended on the tightness of her grip.

Six weeks, almost two months without Y/N in every imaginable way had almost broken Bucky to a point of no return. Had they gone longer periods of time without seeing one another? Sure, but this was different. When the person you love is right there, but more unreachable than when they’re thousands of miles away, that’s a different kind of pain.

She didn’t release her grip form him, as Bucky shifted and sat up, her legs moving to lace around his waist on instinct. With one hand underneath her thighs the other going to take off the IV bag from the stand, he stood up and moved through the tower, finally retreating to his room, where he took off a photo frame from the wall and hung up the medical supply while gently laying Y/N down between his sheets.

She’d been in that position many times before in different states of undress, in different emotional states as well, but not once had she been alone there. And neither would she be alone now.

It was the first night Bucky slept without waking up, and when he did Y/N’s head was resting on his chest. He held her a bit tighter then.

***

The road to recovery was slow.

It started with her spending her days and nights in Bucky’s room, no longer isolating herself from him. It turned to late-night talks where they just chatted about miscellaneous things, and if she felt comfortable enough, then about every heavy thing pressing on her heart. Then she ventured off to her own room, and once evening slipped inside the room of who was her neighbour. She slept next to Wanda that night.

The next night, she and Wanda sneaked inside Nat’s bedroom, and just hung out a bit, painting their nails. When Y/N went to sleep next to Bucky, she felt as light as the light-yellow colour adorning her fingers.

On the morning of the eleventh day of her recovery, she woke up earlier and made everyone breakfast, putting some extra chocolate chips in Sam’s pancakes. He deserved it for all the trouble he’d gone through. The smile on his lips and the kiss on her head from him meant more than any thank you he could say.

But it was about a month down the line, after evenings where she’d joined in on the movie nights and had discussed the gathered intelligence from other missions as well as the tactics agents should employ when Y/N took her biggest step yet.

Bucky was laying on his bed ‘The Two Towers’ between his fingers, the metal appendage flipping the pages as gently as if they were made from butterfly wings, when Y/N came out of the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto her nightshirt. Well, it was actually one of Bucky’s shirts, but at this point, every piece of clothing he owned belonged to her as well. Besides, in his humble opinion, she wore them better than he ever could.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?” he hummed, flipping to another page.

“Buck I – “ she took in a breath. “I want to have sex.”

“What? Ow!” The book had slipped from his hands and the edge hit his eyebrow, making Y/N hiss, and instantly come over to try and soothe the hurt part.

“I mean – “ Bucky stuttered much like his heart. “I’d love to. Gosh, dollface, you know I’d do anything you ever wanted me. Tell me to spend forever between your legs, and I will, but… Please don’t feel like we have to. You’re still healing, and –“

“I want to,” Y/N was quick to quench his doubt, running a gentle finger over his brow. “I do. I – I need to feel you. I need to feel… I need to feel whole, and I haven’t in so long.”

His hand cupped her cheek. “You are whole. You don’t need me to complete you. You don’t need anyone to complete you.”

“I –“ She huffed, struggling to form the thought running through her brain into words. “I – I know that. At least I think so. But… but there is this part inside me, I can’t seem to heal myself, this crack that no matter how hard I try to mend just won’t do. And that’s because that part can only be filled by love. And yours is the strongest one I have in my life.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, doll…”

Her legs slowly shifted so they were straddling him as Bucky leaned up in a sitting position, palms dropping to her hips and sliding underneath her PJs to touch the soft skin of her back.

His nose skimmed against hers, and Y/N sighed at the feeling. She’d slept like that – nose to nose curled up next to Bucky – for close to a month and a half now, but the anticipation of the kiss turned her into a bundle of nerves.

“One word,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before looking deeply into her eyes. “One word and we stop.”

And even though she wanted to say there was no doubt in her mind about doing it, she nodded. He needed the reassurance just as much as she did that if something happened, he’d be there for her.

When Bucky’s lips met hers, it was just like the first kiss they’d shared. A bit tentative, unsure, yet filled with so much restrained passion and pure love it was overwhelming, and Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Darling, let’s just not do this,” Bucky said noticing the clear pearls dripping down her cheeks, but she shook her head.

“I just missed you so much. I missed letting you love me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing people don’t need permission to love. I never stopped. I can’t imagine ever not loving you.”

His mouth was on hers once again. Bucky let Y/N lead the whole time. He didn’t deny himself from exploring her body, from feeling every crook, dip, and crevice of her form, but she was always in control.

When her shirt dropped to the floor, she was the one who started lifting it up.

When she laid down to pull Bucky on top, she was the one who flipped them over and pulled him on top.

Her hands skimmed the band of his boxers, and Bucky unconsciously ground against Y/N’s clothed core at the feeling, both letting out moans of relief at the friction.

“Can you take ‘em off?” she breathed, as Bucky left beautiful marks on her neck and chest so they could bloom through the night and could be greeted by them in the morning.

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Please.”

They did it together. Y/N linked her fingers behind the fabric and pulled it down his legs while he shimmied out from the boxers and kicked it to the floor.

“Can I take yours off?”

As sure as she was about everything that was going on, there was still some hesitancy in her body, and he immediately sensed it, pulling a little bit away. “Y/N…”

When her hands went to wrap around his wrists where they rested against her hips, horror washed over Bucky like a cold shower. “Did they…?”

“No!” Y/N was immediate to answer. “No, they didn’t… but… they said after they were done with me after they turned me into their puppet… after they’d make me hurt you, you’d never want to touch me. That, in your last moments, you’d only have hate in your heart for me, and I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

He gently put a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. “Even when I was staring down that barrel, all I could think about was how much I love you. How I’d give my life for you even if you were the one taking it. I could never hate you.”

A violent sob ripped through her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world, and I’ll try to give as much of it to you as I can.”

She couldn’t take much more of his confessions because Y/N’s chest was already as full as it could be of love, so instead, she pulled Bucky back down for a passion-filled kiss, while shimmying out from her own underwear.

“Condom?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “Not this time. Need to feel you as you are.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Helen put me back on the pill about a month ago.”

Bucky shuddered, nodding. “Alright. Okay. But I need to make sure I don’t hurt you first.”

Y/N was about to say he could never hurt her, when two of his fingers slipped along her folds, cutting her words off in favour of the groan of pleasure.

“Gotta take care of my girl the right way.”

A moan seeped into Bucky’s skin when he pushed a cold metal digit into her tight entrance. His arm had the added feature to feel things if he wanted or switch it off when he didn’t want to, which was a nice thing, especially during missions (he’d forgotten to do so one time and when a bullet bounced off, it wasn’t like a bee bumping against glass, hot pain had rippled through his whole arm, so it was a good idea on Shuri’s part), but this time it was on, and the absolutely exquisite pressure and warmth that squeezed around his digits was enough to make him grind against the mattress to alleviate his own growing pressure.

“Bucky, please,” Y/N practically mewled, eyes screwed shut, nails digging into his skin, making him groan in pleasure. He’d forgotten how delicious the sounds were and how close to the edge just the feeling of her nails marking half-moons into his back could bring him.

“Fuck,” he swore leaning up to kiss her once more, while he increased the speed of which his fingers were going in and out of her, while his thumb rubbed circles around her clit, and when he hotly breathed against her neck to ‘soak him all down to his elbows’ Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she arched up from the bed as an orgasm shattered her world.

Gently he coaxed her through the orgasm while muttering praises against her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighed leaning to rest on his elbows. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Y/N smiled, stroking his cheek. “You’re beautiful too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know or will let yourself believe me.”

The crooked smirk which he threw her reminded the one from Steve’s tales of him and his skirt-chasing days. “Guess you’ll have to convince me.”

“With pleasure.”

Her hand snaked down to where he’d been running the tip of his cock between her folds, before gently pressing him down so he could easily slide inside. When he was sheeted a moan of satisfaction came from both of them.

It was like homecoming. Like curling up in a warm bed on a cold winter’s night. It was just right.

“God, I could stay like this forever.” Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“We have forever and then some.”

A look she could not figure out crossed his face. It was like absolute joy mixed with fear and terror. “You promise?”

Y/N kissed him, trying to pour all of her love into the single act. “With everything I have in me.”

He took that as the cue that he could move and experimentally rolled his hips towards hers. Bit by bit he picked up the pace, breaths turning into pants broken up by moans, sweat beading along his skin, a small burn appearing in his knees, but even that discomfort couldn’t overshadow the heavenly pleasure rippling through his veins.

She’d always been the epitome of beauty and love, that’s how completely Bucky had fallen for her, and he could only hope he was the same for her.

“Bucky,” she choked out. “So close.”

“Yeah?” His vision was starting to go white at the edges.

“Mhm – ohh!” The confirmation turned into a squeal when he hit just that right spot, he concentrated all his thrusts to match it, and soon enough both of them were falling over the edge, clinging onto the other as if they were the last lifeline that existed for them.

“Hey,” Bucky cooed, opening his eyes and seeing how furrowed Y/N’s brow was, how hard she was fighting to resurface. “Come back to me. Come back, doll.”

Slowly, Y/N’s breathing evened out, her trembling became small shudders from the aftershock of the pleasure, and her lids fluttered, gaze meeting his.

She’d come back.

She’d always come back to her home.

To Bucky.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

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Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae

A/N: My Bucky boiiiii! I’m back! hope y’all like this rollercoaster :)

P.S. if you see yourself on my tag list and you’re crossed out means the tag didn’t work. if you still wanna be on the tag list please message me your new url and what was your old one so I can change it (if it’s not the change of the url then I genuinely dunno what could be the problem)

P.S.S. my tags are always open.

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms without specific written permission and don’t plagiarise them

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mattsunnn · 4 years ago

Text

Title : Schoopid Boss

Character/s : Aizawa Shota

Includes : Little space, ddlg, sub/dom dynamics, Daddy Shota, a shitty day, whole ass mf fluff CAUSE I’M CRAVING FOR IT

Warning/s : just a few bad words here and there. THIS IS NOT SMUT😌

A/n : found this in my notes app and I combusted a full pack of uwus

You woke up with an energized body and with a smile. Having been slept beside your lover is so refreshing and it feels so... safe. Being wrapped around by his arms as he pulled you closer lit your heart up with flames of love.

What you couldn't understand is how good you started your day is, how bad it will end.

Your boss got mad at you for bringing the wrong papers. It was initially his fault for telling you the wrong name folder but he still insisted that it is yours for not being mindful enough. Then one of your coworkers accidentally poured coffee on your desks when you are trying to find the said folder, having been an accident because she's gossiping with your other coworker. Lastly, on your way back home, it started raining heavily. Needing to run and go after the bus that you are supposed to board but got distracted because of a small shop for kids. You couldn't stay angry and just wanted to cry because of the pent up frustration the day has given you.

You wanted to resign because of your shitass boss that seems to be loved by everyone which dearly confused you to the bones. You wanted to yell at the coworker to do their fucking jobs in a professional manner and not gossip around like the office was just some streets for people like them to gather.

You sobbed, unconsciously slipping into little space as your mind was clouded by wanting to be in your daddy's arms while sucking on your baby blue pacifier that was gifted by Shota. The thought of your caregiver produced another round of sniffling and sobbing as you clumsily gripped your phone, sloppily tapping the messaging app.

To : Dada Shosho🙈✨

You:

Daddy?

Need a ride please is it okay?

Had a bad day :(((

Dada Shosho🙈✨:

Of course it's okay baby. Come on, where are you?

You:

Thank you, daddy!

bus stop infrpmt of my workplscr.

was heavily rauninh, das why i cant go home

Dada Shosho🙈✨:

Alright. Wait for me there, okay?

Tell me, kitten. How old is my little baby right now?

You:

Fav?

Dada Shosho🙈✨:

Okay, prettt girl. Once we get home you're gonna have to tell me what happened, alright? I'll beat the bad guys that hurt you.

You:

Yes, daddy❣️

Your hands fiddled the end of your skirt, trying to take your mind off of your bad boss and coworkers as you waited for your boyfriend to show up. You tried to think of big things to help make your mind not go further into the headspace.

Thankfully, there is no one around that can witness your struggle right now. You sniffled, a small hand wiping your eyes to get rid of the single tear that goes down.

"Baby girl? There you are."

You abruptly perked up, your eyes beaming in happiness once you noticed who spoke. You can always recognize those long raven colored locks, those tired eyes but still held a tint of admiration and love for you, those lips that seems to have a permanent frown but will only give out the softest smile when you’re around. You got up, speed walking to your lover who had his arms opened when you got near him. You immediately attached to his arms, burying your face on his chest as he kissed your forehead.

"That bad, baby?" He asked, voice soft yet firm as he waddled both yourself and him to the car with his one hand holding the umbrella and one hand wrapped around your waist.

You nodded, him smilling when he felt the little movement you made on his chest. He pressed his palm on your cheek, slowly bringing your face up to meet his eyes. "Come on, go inside so we can go home faster."

You pulled away with a pout, placing yourself on the passenger seat as he closed the door and ran to the driver's seat, going inside and closing the door after tucking the umbrella on the back. He put on his seatbelt first before turning to you, his long arms reaching for your own seatbelt as he clasped it around you. He departed not after kissing you on the lips which made you giggle and making him smile. He started the engine and you two are now on the way home.

Aizawa’s left hand was on the steering wheel, eyes on the road. His right hand opened up, showing you his palm. You looked up at him before smiling giddily. You pressed your hand on his open ones and intertwined them. Both of your hearts warming up once you both know that you two are now connected.

"I prepared some sweets for you back at home. We'll watch whatever show that you want, kitten. Which is it?" He asked, squeezing your hand when you started to squirm excitedly on your seat.

"Hmm! Hmm! Watch bwictoyous!"

"Victorious? Is that it?" He chuckled at your cute babbling. You nodded greedily, leaning your head on his arm as you started to speak about your shitty day.

He smiled, looking at you from his peripheral vision as you continued your story with an angry pout. "And den dis schoopid coworker spwilled her tea on my papers! So i can’t do the mwission schoopid boss gave me!"

"They're both stupid, no?" He asked as he pulled up on your house's parking lot.

"They are! They are!"

That’s how you ended up beside Aizawa with a contented smile on your lips as you cuddled up on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your waist as his other arm rests under you head, using it as a makeshift pillow for you as you hummed to the song ‘Make it shine.’

When he noticed that your breathing has slightly evened out and your eyes fluttered shut as small breaths came out of your mouth, he smiled, tucking a stray hair away from your cheek before giving you a peck on your lips, muttering ‘goodnight, kitten.’

He was about to turn off the lights with a controller when you leaned up, kissing him on his jaw before nuzzling your head on the crook of his neck. “Love you, daddy.” You mumbled, your breath tickling his skin as you wrapped an arm around his torso.

He couldn’t help but smile and chuckle a little. Turning off the lights, he fully faced you, bringing you impossibly closer to his body as he kissed the side of your forehead for the last time for the night.

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Your day can still end just like how it is in the morning. Your daddy really is the best at making your day better, wrapped around in the arms of your Daddy as he kissed you goodnight.

I lied. I’m not going to start posting on friday but now lmaooo

The next one’s bokuaka and you😗

Stay safe and stay hydrated!

#aizawa imagine #aizawa x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #aizawa shouta #little space #daddy shouta🥺#bnha fluff #mha fluff

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years ago

Text

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 5: Hero Work

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OFC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

⬅ PREVIOUS CHAPTER • CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: Another chapter! I think this one as very interesting stuff, and it’s finally starting to move on to my favorite part of the story, I can’t wait to post the few next chapters!

Also, and as always, remember to give this some love! Please reblog and leave feedback if you’re liking it, it would help me out a lot and it’d mean the world to me!! 🙏 Thank you so much to everyone that’s supporting this series 🥰💜

With the excuse that she needs to face it sooner or later, Stephanie starts trying out her powers. She promises herself that it means nothing, only a way to ensure they won’t become something dangerous because she can’t control them. It doesn’t mean she will recklessly go out trying to be Wonder Woman. But the improvised hero outfit still lays on the ground. She hasn’t put it away. Keeps glancing at it.

Meanwhile, as her eyes are fixed on the costume, a light crackle of electricity hovers over her palm. Stephanie sighs and focuses her attention on it, watching how the small force field slowly grows. The semi-transparent sphere, at first as small as marble, has reached the size of a football ball now.

Stephanie tells herself that big progress has been made, as at least she is now in control of it even if the force field isn’t big enough to really protect anyone. Its surface is also irregular and unstable. She grits her teeth, frowning in confusion, but the very best she can do is maintain the current state of the force field.

“Ah!” Stephanie suddenly yelps when her phone buzzes. The force field in her hand crackles, creating a mild disturbance in the air, before completely fading.

Promising to keep working on her newfound abilities after checking her phone, she picks the device up and looks at the screen. Her heart halts in anticipation as she reads the text. It’s from Ben.

While it isn’t the person she was expecting, it still warms her heart that Ben is reaching out and checking on her. For that reason, she proceeds to read the message and a small smile finds its way to her lips when she does.

Good morning, Stephanie! How are you feeling? I hope you’re well and recovered. There is no rush to return to work, but I must insist that you rest and properly look after yourself. I’m your boss, so you have to do as I say.

Best regards, Ben.

Stephanie chuckles, endeared by his thoughtful message and amused by the fact that he signed it like he would a written letter... despite the fact that the phone already showcases the sender. Grinning, she starts typing to reply to him.

You may be the man in charge for the project, but shall I remind you that you’re not my boss?

Best regards, Stephanie.

However, and despite the lighthearted interaction, a void settles in her chest.

For a moment, Stephanie had hoped it was Barry contacting her, only to remember that she had been ignoring his many calls and messages. He has probably given up on talking to her, figuring she will do so when she feels comfortable with it. And she misses him. For that reason, she dials his number while Ben types back.

Barry takes a few rings to answer, but when he does his warm and familiar voice is filled with excitement. It makes Stephanie smile as soon as she hears it.

“Steph?!” He answers. “Oh my gosh, hi! How are you feeling?”

“Hi, Barry” The girl can’t stop smiling now, while at the same time wondering how she had survived so many days without him. “I’m feeling better, thank you”

“That’s great, I’m so glad to hear it!” He sighed from the other end, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Um… did you need anything? Or did you just call to chat?”

“Well…” Stephanie awkwardly chuckles, feeling embarrassed for isolating herself. But now that she has her powers mostly under control after that long week, she feels like she can talk to him again. “Actually, I wanted to apologize… I know I’ve been very distant, but…”

“Hey, no” He gently interrupts her. “Steph, you don’t have to apologize, don’t say a word. I understand that you needed some time, anyone would after what you went through!”

Stephanie pauses for a moment while the nerves suddenly stir in her stomach. In the end, noticing his silence as well, she pipes up once more.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Barry”

“I’m always gonna worry about you”

She smiles to herself, knowing that he means that in the best way possible. The nerves disappear, replaced with a wave of warmth that fills her. Suddenly, all those negative emotions she has been experiencing for days are gone. All thanks to his magic.

“Listen, I’m in a hurry. I’m so sorry, I really can’t talk more” Barry mumbles. “But, uh... how ‘bout we meet this evening? I’ll take it easy on you, I promise, I just want to hang out with you for a bit”

“Sure” Stephanie chuckles. “I’d love that”

“Cool!” She hears him happily chuckle as well. “Pick you up at 7?”

“Yeah, see you later” And Stephanie hangs up, unable to erase the smile from her face.

When Barry arrives to the place of reunion, he heaves a big sigh. The sky suddenly looks bluer, the birds are singing louder and the sun shines brighter. Everything is okay.

“There you are” Clark pats his shoulder, warning him of the team’s presence. They had been waiting for him. “How can a speedster like you be late?”

“Right, sorry about that” Barry grins instead of taking his words as a scolding.

“You look happy…” Diana tells Barry, kindly nudging him a little.

“Yeah, well” The boy suddenly feels slightly flustered by everyone’s gazes on him. “I talked to Steph”

“Your friend?” Bruce pipes up, the hint of a smile peeking in the corner of his lips. “We told you she just needed some time”

“She doing okay?” Arthur asked, frowning slightly in concern.

“Yeah, she’s fine… she’s fine” Barry sighs like that again, feeling lighter. “Phew, it was such a relief”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Barry” Victor gravely tells him. “But we have work to do”

“You’re right, I know” The boy nods to himself. “I’m ready, let’s go”

The silence settles for a moment. Overlooking the city from their high spot at the top of the skyscraper, the six pensively observe the atmosphere beneath their feet. There is the usual busy sound of traffic, of the crowd’s murmuring and the occasional ambulance or police cars sirens in the distance. Other than that, there are no signs of an imminent threat.

“What are we doing here again?” Arthur pipes up. “Everything seems calm”

“Too calm” Bruce grimly replies, glancing at the rest. “I know something’s wrong”

“I can feel it too” Victor adds. “The electric devices feel erratic, like a virus is slowly poisoning the city”

“What we can do about it?” Diana stares at the cyborg, whose eyes are fixed on the city underneath.

“Can you do something to stop that virus?” Barry suggests to him. “Get into their systems or something?”

“I can’t” Victor gravely says, locking eyes with the speedster. “That’s how I know something’s wrong”

“I can feel it too” Clark admits. There are no traces of his usual smile. “Maybe it’s just an intuition, but-”

Before he can even finish his sentence, a loud ruckus startles them all. Something has changed right under their field of vision. An automated train, moving on its own and filled with thousands of innocent passengers, is violently wavering and making the people inside it scream and panic. It moves at a vertiginous speed. More strange noises ensure that the train isn’t the only electronic device malfunctioning there.

“You wouldn’t be doing that, by any chance?” Barry asks Victor, who slowly shakes his head.

As on cue, everyone moves at his denial. The six seem synchronized as they throw themselves down the rooftop. Diana uses her lasso to soar through the air, Bruce glides with his cape and Barry speeds leaving behind a faint blue tail. Clark flies, followed by Victor with his propellers, and Arthur throws his trident and rides it like a surf board.

In the blink of an eye, the six have landed on top of the train. More panicked screams fill the interior with the loud thud of their landing. They struggle to maintain balance in the speeding train. Moving quickly, Clark tears the metallic top of the train open and so everyone drops to the inside.

“Please stay calm” He kindly says to the terrorized passengers.

“We’re here to help” Bruce assures them with his deep voice.

“We’re saved!” A blond woman exclaims. “It’s Superman!”

“And Wonder Woman!”

“And The Batman!”

Although a warm welcome, the Justice League focuses on the mission ahead: saving those people. They exchange quick glances between them and get to work. There is no time to lose.

“Barry” Bruce lowly tells him. “Get rid of all the electronic devices as soon as possible”

“Before they overheat and explode” Victor urges him, his red eye seeming to recognize the extent of the danger they present. “They’re malfunctioning just like the train”

“Copy that!” And with that, the speedster is gone in the blink of an eye. With shocked gasps, the people find that their phones, tablets and any other electronic devices are taken from them. Some explode as soon as they’re thrown out the window, causing an even further outrage.

“I’ll try to stop the train” Victor closes his eyes, focusing his mind on the electric system.

“I’ll do that too” Clark nods, helping the cyborg by flying to the front of the vehicle. As soon as he disappears, the train produces a strident creaking as it drags along the rails. Carefully. Very slowly, it starts losing speed. He can’t risk harming the people inside with a violent halt.

“We’ll get the people safely off” Diana taps Bruce, who doesn’t lose one second to go with her.

“And I’ll help you out” Arthur throws his trident to the doors, breaking through them to allow them an exit.

Soon after, Barry has returned and instantly goes with Diana, Bruce and Arthur to help them move the passengers out of the speeding train. Clark seems to continue his part of the rescue, because it loses speed by the second. Slow and safely.

While Arthur breaks open all the doors he can to create more exits, the rest gets ahold of as many people as possible. The train hasn’t quite stopped yet. Bruce carries three grown men, using his grappling hook to swing to safety. Diana has picked up a group of four children while Barry puts their parents to safety. Perhaps they can’t quite understand and solve what is happening in the city yet, but in the meantime they can always protect the people.

Seven o’clock can’t come soon enough. Time passes slowly, and Stephanie’s eyes keep landing on the discarded outfit on the ground. She bites her lip. Knowing she is meeting Barry later seems to fill her with courage. Hope. Maybe she can be like their heroes, like Wonder Woman and Superman. At the very least, she can try.

“Maybe I’ll just try it on…” She mumbles, trying to get rid of her impatient energy, and as though they outfit would have changed sizes during those few days she hasn’t touched it.

Telling herself that it’s only a way to stay distracted and busy while she waits for Barry to arrive, although that isn’t for two more hours, Stephanie gets changed. The tight leggings slip on easily, like a second skin, like they’re the right thing to wear. After she puts on the tank top as well, she stands before the mirror once more. The same sense of excitement and wonder settle in her stomach, taking the form of butterflies that take flight inside it.

The look is almost complete. Just when she is applying the eye shadow like the other day, a sound interrupts her. Several police cars pass by her apartment at top speed, illuminating the streets with their blue light. A test. A call to adventure. Will she answer?

“I can do it” She whispers to herself. “I want to help, I can do it”

Anxious as the police cars wail in the distance, Stephanie nods in resolution. After such a long time of inactivity, her muscles complain at the sudden energy bursts. Ignoring the light aching of her body, Stephanie runs. She leaves her apartment, leaves behind her building and runs in the direction the police cars took. After days if inactivity, she feels alive again. Her lungs urgently fill with air, her heart begins beating so fast that it throbs in her ears.

Stephanie doesn’t stop running, chasing the call to heroism and smiling widely.

She gasps for air as she watches the scene before her in confusion. The streets are total chaos. Even the few policemen that have stayed seem to have lost their minds. All the people, from ordinary bystanders, to service workers that have left their establishments, are running aimlessly and screaming in a panic.

“HEEEELP!!! He will kill us all!!” A shrieking voice gathers her attention upwards. A man is teetering at the very edge of a ledge, at the top of a building. He seems about to jump. Stephanie can’t get there in time to save him. Where is the Justice League when you need it?!

Trying to make herself audible among the shouting of the panicked people around her, she focuses on the man whose life is in immediate danger.

“Stay where you are!” She shouts at him, but he only dedicates her an absent glance.

Stephanie frantically looks around, searching for something that can help her. Nothing of use is in sight. What can she do? An idea suddenly pops up in her brain. Wiggling her fingers, she tries to create a force field around herself. If it’s stable enough, maybe it can lift her off the ground and transport her to him.

But it’s all for naught. It’s too late. Her heart skips a beat.

The man has walked off the ledge.

“NO!” Stephanie screams, so violently that she hurts her throat.

On an instinct, she reaches out in his direction despite the big distance that separates them. Her head fills with uneasy thoughts, all of which are focused on helping him. Saving him! Her first attempt can’t end like that, she needs to do something!

Just as the man is about to step into the air and commence a free fall of several stories high, a bubble creates around him. The man gasps, suspended in the air by a wavering force field.

Realizing it is her doing, Stephanie clenches her jaw and focuses all her might on it. Although it quakes with her effort, the bubble carefully glides downwards until it touches the pavement. As soon as it does, the man looks around in a daze and begins to walk away.

Stephanie finds that such small deed was too great for her. All her energies abandon her and she suddenly falls to the ground. She sits there helplessly. Her heart has recovered that unforgiving pace and she breathes heavily again, even worse than after her dash.

In a daze, feeling how her brain slowly fills with fog, Stephanie watches the scene. Two men are fighting close to her, shouting as they’re convinced the other is a threat. A woman and her baby run aimlessly, wailing as each make more noise than the previous. All around her reigns absolute chaos. Panic. Terror. The reason? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t understand.

A man runs for his life, anxiously looking over his shoulder as though something or someone is chasing him. Stephanie can’t see anything behind the man. Just as he passes her by, she weakly holds on to the leg of his pants.

“Sir, sir!!” She calls out, trying to get through to him. Fighting his panic, he nervously turns to her. “What is happening?!”

“T-The scarecrow!” The man gulps. “We’re all going to die!”

And with that her breaks free from her grasp with one simple jerking motion and continues on his escape from an invisible foe.

Stephanie frowns under her eye mask. There are no signs of any scarecrow, and even if it was… what would a scarecrow be doing in a city? Why would an inanimate object be a threat? These people seem to be frightened of an imaginary foe. The only thing different aside from the panicked people is a strange ambiance. Although slightly similar to the way her force fields change the air, this once it feels heavy. There is a mild odor of something burning, like popcorn that has been on the microwave for too long.

But… there is no fire. Stephanie suddenly gets an urge to leave. She makes to stand up, but she remains too weak to move. Anguish overcomes her. Something is happening in that place, something that she cannot comprehend but that is starting to take over her too.

She doesn’t know what, but something is wrong. Something is about to happen. Something bad. Something terrible. She can’t stop thinking about it. A feeling of dread overpowers any other rational thoughts. Now Stephanie understands how all those people feel. Panicked She does too.

Her eyes frantically travel all around her, expecting hidden enemies in every corner. Her powers are useless, even if she could use them. She can’t protect herself, or anyone else.

Static-like void fills her brain, causing her to push her hands against her ears when it feels like her head is about to explode. Her temples throb. Her heart thumps. Her breathing quickens.

Just as she feels herself about to completely lose control, a figure appears in front of her as though it has fallen from the heavens. Stephanie yelps and whimpers, shielding her face with her hands and leaning backwards to get away.

“Hey” A deep dark voice approaches her. “You okay?”

Stephanie dares to peek through her fingers, only becoming more frightened when she actually sees the person… the… creature? It looks like a man, but her panicked mind can only see an enormous bat standing on two legs with its wings wide open.

“Ah!” She screams, so the figure folds the wings and cautiously approaches her. She still doesn’t trust him. “Please don’t hurt me!”

He can hurt her. He will. Anyone can. Anyone will.

“I’m not going to hurt you” He slowly crouches down to be at eye level with her. She can see his worried brown eyes through the mask that covers his features. “Look at me”

“You’re… you’re…” The world seems to spin around her, and Stephanie is out of breath. “You’re The Batman”

“That’s right, I’m here to help” He reminds her, offering her his hand. “What’s going on?”

Stephanie gulps as he pulls her to her feet. It comes to her attention that he looks her up and down, reminding her of the outfit she’s wearing. A hero… she failed. The reason why she went there on the first place was because she wanted to help those people, but… reality becomes a little more stable as she realizes… not even the police stuck around.

“Can you hear me?” The Batman tries again. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know” All her thoughts are scrambled, too fast to stop as they slip through her lips. “Something… is wrong… I can’t explain it...”

A sudden urge to cry causes her to stare at him, begging for help. Maybe he knows what strange occurrence takes place in that street, or how to stop it, or how to end it. He doesn’t seem to, but his eyes are filled with compassion.

“I assume you wanted to help, but you can go” He tells her, supporting her as she feels herself swaying. “Don’t worry, everything will be alright”

Stephanie slowly nods, taking a deep breath and making an effort to fight through that strange trance of terror. No one has attacked her yet, despite her irrational conviction that they would.

“Go, get to safety” The Batman insists, gently letting go of her. “I’ll take care of this”

She opens her mouth. To warn him. He doesn’t know. Since he has just arrived, he has no idea what he will soon experience. But Stephanie can’t speak up. She barely has the strength to stand.

Stumbling and in a daze, she takes a step. She needs to get away from there, breathe a different air. Clean air, not contaminated with whatever is hurting her so. For that reason, she takes another step. And then another. Little by little, she gets away from there. The safety of her home has never felt so distant.

When she wakes up, Stephanie can barely remember how she clumsily plopped on the bed and fell asleep. She had nightmares that are impossible to remember. The fact that she is still wearing her hero outfit is proof that it really happened. She still feels feverish and exhausted from her attempt. Something out of the ordinary was happening there. She can only hope The Batman helped those people, and that he himself was safe after all of that.

Remembering she is supposed to meet Barry when he texts her a quick ‘omw’ that lets her know he will arrive soon, Stephanie gets up. She gets changed and stumbles through her own house as though the ground is shaking under her feet.

Her mind seems to clear up as the minutes pass. When she is done getting ready, she goes to the door where she is supposed to meet Barry. He isn’t there yet. At least, her thoughts feel more coherent and ordered now.

Even after that strange effect has passed, adark feeling stays with Stephanie, like a black cloud that stays with her. At first she assumed it was the rare burst of adrenaline traveling through her veins. Now she’s not so sure. Her heart hasn’t stopped beating erratically ever since then, and although there is no more danger she feels on edge. Frightened. She wonders if she really wasn’t as brave as she though she was, or that she abused her still recovering body too much, or if the experience was too harrowing to easily leave behind. Whatever the case, a sudden presence forces her away from those thoughts.

“Hi!” Barry jumps into place in front of her, bearing a wide grin that seems to brighten up the subtle darkness that has clouded her heart. “I’m here”

“You’re late again” The girl only says, even if she’s already smiling. Barry’s feeling has a healing effect that cures her lingering restlessness.

“I know, I’m so sorry” He dramatically sighs, although he does look a little tired. “Busy day”

“What did you do today?” Stephanie asks, trying to start a conversation while at the same time distract herself from her unease.

“Uh….. you know...” Barry shrugs. “Run around, do some errands, save the world…”

Stephanie laughs out loud at his joke, and he grins widely in return. However, the gesture vanishes from his face immediately after. He is staring at her with his brow knitted in concern.

“Steph, you look pale…” He whispers, rubbing her arm. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah” She chuckles, internally panicking at the mere thought of him finding out about her powers and her little adventure. “I just… went for a walk to kill time… Guess I’m a little tired”

Barry pauses. She can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He is about to tell her that she should rest and take it easy, but he doesn’t. Instead, he dedicates her his best encouraging smile.

“I’m gonna spoil you today” His hand lingers on her arm. “You’re still recovering and you deserve to be spoiled”

“So it was a trap” Stephanie smirks, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “I should have known”

“There’s no escaping now” Barry offers her his arm, which she links with his. He then playfully arches his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

The pair smile at each other as they begin to walk. Barry immediately goes on about what they can do. They can get some snacks and take a little walk. Since she’s been locked inside for so long he wants her to get some air, but he’s stern on letting her rest, so maybe they should sit at a terrace. She doesn’t care what the plan is, she’s just happy to be with him. His presence is reassuring, silently reminding Stephanie that there is nothing to fear.

It has returned. That feeling of dread, of imminent danger. It isn’t nearly as strong as before, it merely feels like a shadow of its former self. Nonetheless, it is barely enough to make even breathing exhausting. Stephanie can’t focus.

Night is slowly falling as the sky turns a slightly darker shade of blue. It has orange and purple tinges as the last traces of the sunset erase from the horizon. The early night breeze envelops them, gentle like a caress.

Barry has been talking almost all evening, but Stephanie is no longer answering him. She is absently playing with the paper that the hot dogs they ate came in.

“What do you say?” Barry is saying then, but she’s not listening. “Steph?”

Stephanie is so out of it that she can’t answer. She grits her teeth, trying not to wince, when her temples begin throbbing. Her entire body is giving her signals. All she wants to do is rest. Sleep. Sleep for a really long time.

“Steph” He sternly calls her, taking her free hand when she feebly leans on him. “W-What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” She gulps, avoiding his gaze as she lowers her head in the hopes that the stillness can level her dizziness. “Just got a bit light-headed”

“You sure you’re okay?” When she doesn’t answer, he continues. His voice carries a hint of panic. “You’re still recovering, maybe you should have stayed-”

“I’m okay” She rushes to say, trying her best to smile at him. “Just a bit tired”

“Steph, you almost died not that long ago” Barry gravely says, subtly sinking his fingers into her arm. “And you don’t look so good”

“Barry” She begins to say, tiredly tilting her head as she peers at him. Her vision blurs, but she tries to fight through her unwell. “I’m just… a bit weak…”

He doesn’t reply, only furrowing his brow and feeling a pang of concern in his chest. He had been scared enough to find her after the accident, it only makes it worse to see her in that state still. He doesn’t think he could take the idea of her not being alright.

“And…” Stephanie gulps, wobbling slightly. “V-Very dizzy…”

Barry wraps an arm around her. His heart is racing in unease. Just as he supports her, Stephanie falters. The breath hitches in his throat as he tightens his hold on her and presses her against his side.

“Steph?!” His voice breaks as the concern completely takes over him.

For a few seconds she doesn’t reply, only limply lying against him. Memories of finding her after the accident return to Barry, and he grimaces at the mental image. Luckily, she reacts in time to pull him out of those dark thoughts.

“I’m… okay…” She tells him in a daze, voice weak.

Still firmly holding on to her, he presses his free hand against her forehead. Stephanie’s skin feels warm, confirming his suspicions that she was still sick.

“I’m taking you home” Barry states. “No buts, you need to rest”

Stephanie babbles, opening and closing her mouth. If only he knew the true reason behind her state. But he can never know. In any case, she doesn’t feel lucid enough to speak. The mere idea that she has a secret identity feels far too surreal at the moment, even to herself.

“Can you walk?” Barry tenderly moves the hair away from her face, trying to take a good look at her. She only shakes her head, frowning as she tiredly puts her head on his shoulder. “Okay, up you go”

Straining a little, he grunts as he sweeps her off the floor and into his arms. Stephanie suddenly feels incredibly safe and comfortable in his embrace, and the deep unwell lessen slightly.

“You’re strong…” She chuckles, and she briefly wonders why she’s tilted to the side even though her head is still resting against his shoulder.

“See? You’re clearly delirious” They peer at each other for a moment.

The slight motion of picking her head off his shoulder sends a wave of vertigo through her. She whimpers, closing her eyes tight and gingerly resting her head on his shoulder again. Then, a sudden change of position startles her. When she opens her eyes, they are already at her place. Baffled, she feebly glances around. A moment ago they were… and now… she must be really delirious...

“We’re here” Barry carries her inside. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“No, I just…” She starts to say, but her voice then becomes urgent. “Put me down”

Confused, Barry does as she says. When she is on her feet again, Stephanie presses her hands over her mouth. The wave of nausea soon passes, much to her relief. However, everything else does too.

Barry exclaims as he throw himself forward to catch her. Stephanie drops down, falling limply to the ground. His arms break her fall and he nervously scoops her into them again.

“Oh my gosh…” He mumbles as he rushes her to the bed. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…”

He shakily sighs to himself as he carefully lies her down. The girl’s arms stay locked around his neck even when he lets go of her. Barry stops to intently watch her. She now looks peaceful, as though she badly needed that rest. She’s resting, he tells himself. Yeah, just resting. Her chest softly moves up and down with her calm breathing.

“She’s okay” Barry assures himself, although he begins pacing up and down her room.

Thousands of terrible thoughts battle in his brain. She’s sick again. She hasn’t recovered. She’s dying. The accident was too much for her, she will never fully recover.

“Okay, calm down, Barry” He takes a deep breath, even if he still paces. “She’s fine, she’s gonna be alright”

He tells himself that all those thoughts are lies. They are just fears, not reality. Interrupting himself, Barry stops and looks at her again. Stephanie lies motionlessly in the bed. She is still pale, but she doesn’t look terribly sick. He sighs and resumes his pacing.

“She’s not as bad as she was in the hospital” Barry whispers, trying not to wake her. “She looked much worse then. Besides, Steph’s strong, she’ll be fine, she’ll be-”

Barry’s phone rings, startling him so much that he yelps and jumps in place.

“H-Hello?”

“Barry?”

The boy finally quits his pacing for good. His hand flies to his forehead. He had totally forgotten he was supposed to return to the Batcave after being with Steph. Things had seemed to gotten worse. After their rescue on the train, panic had seemed to reign on the streets for several hours. There was no explanation, but they knew it had something to do with the rest of strange events. And maybe a villain was behind it all.

But now… Stephanie needs him. She is sick. Now he can’t leave her.

“Bruce! I’m so sorry” Barry rapidly says. “I know I should be there, but Steph got really sick and…”

“Is she alright?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah… I think so…”

“And you?”

“I’m fine, I just got scared…” He sighs, settling his nerves. “Really freaking scared”

“So you can’t make it?” Bruce asks him, but at least Barry is relieved that there is no anger or annoyance in his voice.

“I’m afraid not… I’m really sorry, I just…”

“I understand” The man replies. “But we have to check that out”

“Sure, yeah!” Barry nervously ruffles his own hair. “You guys be careful out there, okay?”

“We will” Bruce gently says. “Take care of your friend”

“Yeah” The boy absently hangs up, turning to her once more. She is now lying over her side, having turned slightly in her sleep.

Barry watches her, wondering how he can contain such an immense amount of fondness for her. Just the sight of her pale face was enough to break his heart. If he could, he would hold her tight and never let go, protect her from everything.

When he slowly walks closer to her, a board of the wooden floor creaks. Barry freezes, but it’s too late. Stephanie groggily turns around, opening her eyes moving her head to look around her.

“Barry?” She mumbles, looking around, disoriented. “What…?”

What is Barry doing there with her? However, she quickly forgets about him when her eyes fall on the window. It’s almost dawn. An alarm blasts in her head as her usual routine occupies all her thoughts. She needs to get ready!

"I gotta go to work!" Stephanie makes to stand from the bed, but Barry is faster. He pushes her by the shoulders and forces her to lie down again.

"What?” He exclaims, feeling that anguish that he had just gotten rid of creeping up again. “Are you… are you serious?"

"Barry, I’m gonna be late! Our investigation is very important, it will help so many-"

“Oh my gosh, Steph!” He exclaims, in a surprisingly loud and exasperated voice that instantly silences her in astonishment. “Can you stop thinking about everyone else and take care of yourself for one minute?! Don’t you remember what happened to you?!”

And suddenly, with his words, Stephanie does remember. The accident, the hospital, the heroic attempt, the inexplicable dread in the air… Everything. She relaxes, forgetting about work. She now remembers she hasn’t gone to the lab in a week. But it’s too late for Barry.

Stephanie gawks at him, having no words to retaliate. His sudden outburst is so unexpected that she is utterly speechless. A second after he finishes his sentence, however, his eyes widen in surprise as well. They silently stare at each other.

“I’m so sorry” He utters, averting his gaze in shame. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I just…”

“You’re right… I just got a little disoriented” Stephanie reaches out to delicately take his hand, which he reluctantly allows. “I’m going to lie down, okay?”

The boy nods his head, and he doesn’t move at first even as she insists. When Stephanie tugs at his fingers, he starts to move slowly. Barry turns, hesitantly facing her. Stephanie only pulls a little harder, inviting to sit with her as she returns to her previous spot. Exhaling all the anguish in a shaky breath, Barry joins her in the bed.

No more words are spoken for several seconds. Stephanie doesn’t let go of Barry’s hand. His eyes are watery. Even as he looks away again, she knows, and that is why she tugs at him until they’re both lying down. Resting on their sides, they’re now facing each other. They just rest there for a moment, letting all the tension in the air to vanish and lingering on their positions until Stephanie’s soft voice breaks the silence.

“Are you okay, Barry?”

“Yeah...” He takes a deep breath in. “Just a little shaky”

“I’m sorry…” She mutters, and her hand is delicately pressing against his cheek before she can stop herself. “I really hate to worry you”

“You can’t scare me like that again, okay? Ever” Barry replies, taking her hand off his face and clutching it between both his palms. “Just when I thought you were out of danger you faint on me like that and…”

“I’m okay, Barry” Stephanie assures, chuckling a little when his eyes fall upon hers in a skeptical manner. “I’m better now, really, I just need some rest”

“I can assure you, you’re getting some rest” Remnants of that exasperated tone linger in his voice. “I’m making sure you get some sleep even if I have to lie all day here with you!”

“Is that a threat?” She tenderly smiles, and the callback causes Barry to chuckle.

He pauses, taking a moment to sigh and calm himself.

“Are you really feeling okay?” He lovingly presses her hand against his chest. His heart is drumming underneath it. “Don’t lie to me, Steph, I’ll know”

“I am, I promise” Stephanie snuggles closer to him, embracing his warmth and comforting presence. “Just a little tired”

“What happened to you?” He whispers in concern, even if his arm automatically falls over her frame. “I thought you had rested a lot, that you were recovered. Did I overdo it today? I really tried to…”

“No, no, it’s not that” The girl locks eyes with him, biting her lip as she wonders if she should tell him. In the end she partially does, thinking that he doesn’t need to know the true reason behind her little adventure. “When I went for that walk earlier I… I don’t know… Something affected me… It was like the air was contaminated… It made me feel scared and horrible”

“What was it?”

“I have no idea… I just know there’s something strange going on in this city”

“Yeah, I know…” Barry somberly mutters. After a brief pause, he feels his shoulders relaxing the closer she is. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll watch over you”

Stephanie breathes in, just at the same time that Barry does, and peacefully exhales with him. She hasn’t been feeling safe ever since that awful experience from before. Now, next to Barry and enveloped by his arms, she feels the safest she’s ever been.

Tag list: @scared-to-be-lonely345 / @ocfairygodmother�� // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!!

#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #barry allen imagine #ezra miller #justice league #justice league imagine #justice league series #dc #dc series #dc imagine #oc #series #original character

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