#have i mentioned i fucking love the scarlet lady au

[god-tier-bastard]

ok i see a lot of (justified) hate for mobile tumblr pretty often but this is the first time im using desktop tumblr in like. a year and a half. i only use mobile. its a whole new world on here

[aliasimagines]

Miraculous: Tales of Kick-Ass

requested by a lovely anon 💕

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader (miraculous au)

warnings: cursing.

word count: 1814

a/n: Dave has a kwami!! Cause if we are going with Miraculous au, we are doing it properly.

“I am here again, live ,with New York’s favourite superhero battling against his archnemesis in the background. But do not worry! I just saw Hit Girl arrive at the scene and they seem to have everything under control.” the reporter, Lizzie Blonde, says through the tv in Atomic Comics. You are not sure when all of this has started, when New York turned into a battlefield for superheros and supervillains. New York used to be normal. Alright, scratch that, New York was always one crazy place. 

Not that you mind particularly, you were always a fan of superheroes and comics and to see them, in your city? That was beyond exciting. Not to mention your major crush on kick-Ass.

You took a sip from your milkshake and looked around the comic store. Dave should be here by now. Not that you are surprised he is not here. He is always late nowadays. Marty and Todd fanboyed next to you about hit Girl as you kept looking at your phone and the door, waiting for your best friend to give any sign of him.

In the tv the superhero pair just took out the Motherfucker’s minions.  You sigh a bit worried. What if Dave got in trouble? What if he is in that part of the city where the fight is going on? It’s only a few blocks away and if he got hurt it would explain why he is not responding to your messages..

You hesitantly stood up and walked outside the shop. You heard a loud crash in the distance. You bit your lip, debating whether you should go and look for Dave or not. You heard a loud cheer coming from outside, the heros probably won. Again.

You finally decided to go and look for Dave, so you started speed walking toward the street you saw in the news. Maybe you will not only find Dave but see Kick-Ass too! 

Of course Dave is more important but.. You saw a green figure flash from one of the rooftops. You gasped, Kick-Ass jumped on a building, only a few meters away from you. 

The hero seemed to notice you and waved his hand at you. 

You almost fainted, but went to grab your phone to take a picture of him but by the time you looked up he was long gone. You looked around confused but quickly remembered why you came. You started running again, when from an alleyway someone ran into you.

“AAA”

“AAAA” 

“Oh my god y/n!”

“Dave! What are you doing here?” you grasp your chest, hoping your heart won’t fall out of its place.

“I could ask the same!”

“I was worried about you! So I came looking and..Are you alright?” you carefully touch his cheek where a small cut is, slightly bleeding.  The boy slightly brushes your hand away and tries to hide the light pink flash on his cheek.

“I’m fine, I was on my way to Atomic’s when the fight started and I figured I would be safer here.” he lied effortlessly. You nodded.

“I’m glad you are okay.” you say, before remembering what happened a few seconds ago. “Oh my gosh, Dave! I was walking on the street looking for you and you will never believe what happened! Kick-Ass, The Kick-Ass saw me and waved! Ahh! It was so awesome!”

Dave laughed softly, “I bet it was. Let’s go back to Atomic’s, okay?”

 You guys spend most of your afternoon there, talking about the fight and the superhero duo.

“..so in conclusion, I love Hit Girl and she is so awesome. But Kick-Ass? Gosh, he is so hot!” you gesture with your hands. Dave clears his throat and lifts his drink to his lips. Marty rolls his eyes at you.

“You can’t even see his face!” he throws his hand in the air. Dave and Todd start laughing.

“Hey, man, leave the girl alone.” Dave says, slightly nudging your side. “But really y/n, Kick-Ass could be a nerd like me, for all you know.”

“That would be some Peter Parker shit.” you say grabbing a french fry. “But, I don’t really care for his looks, like.. The idea of him? You know? Like  he is a motherducking hero for Stan Lee's sake!"

" That's kinda.. I don't know. Shallow? Having a crush on someone you don't even know? " Dave says and barely noticeably tucks a small piece of pizza in his pocket. Before you can say anything Todd beats you to it. 

"Well that's rich coming from the guy who was practically drooling over Scarlet Witch in The Ultimates." 

"That's a completely different thing." 

Todd opens his mouth to respond when the harsh sound of the news channel floods the comic shop. You all turn to the tv and see that New York is once again under attack. Dave furrows his eyebrows. 

"Twice?" he asks himself. Before he jumps up from the booth you all are sitting at. 

"I just uhm… I just remembered I have to rush home to help my dad!" 

"Yo dude, what the heck?" yells Todd after your best friend. 

"Sorry, guys I have to run!" and with that Dave is out the door, leaving all his friends including you, confused and kinda upset. He finds the first alleyway and soon his kwami flies out of his pocket. 

"Dave? What's going on? We never have to fight twice a day." the little kwami, Kai says. His name is not actually Kai but as he is a lost kwami he never learned what his name is so Dave was the one to give him the name Kai. 

"I don't know, little dude but we better check it out." 

There wasn't anything big, Chris Damico just couldn't take the fact that he lost again and angrily tried to strike at the innocent citizens of New York in hopes of destroying Kick-Ass too. Instead he ended up getting his.. Well getting his ass kicked. 

Dave didn't change back just yet, instead he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to get home. It got pretty late so it would be stupid to go back to Atomic Comics as you guys probably left. He felt bad for bailing on you again. He hated leaving you. Even if he could play superhero and save people. The look on your face every time he rushed away to a fight? Ugh, he hates it. 

Dave jumps down to an alleyway to transform back when a girl turns into the alley. Wait. It's not just a girl, it's you! 

Dave tries to jump behind trash bags to hide but you already saw him. 

"Kick-Ass?" he hears your voice. He sighs and comes out of his impromptu hiding spot. 

"Haha, guilty as charged."

"Oh my gosh, we met earlier! You waved at me, do you remember? Ah, of course you don't, you meet so many people every day." you would have kept on rambling if it wasn't for Dave. He tried his hardest not to giggle at your fangirling, that he knows oh so well and said. 

" I actually do remember you y/-, random citizen! " 

Fuck! Dave curses himself. He almost said your name! Stupid, stupid, stupid! 

You did seem to hear anything but the fact that your superhero crush remembered you from earlier. You felt your cheeks heating up a bit. 

"You.. You do? Gosh, really? That's so awesome, you are like… ahgh you are so awesome."

"You think so?" Kick-Ass asks, smiling. "Well, you seem like a pretty awesome girl, too. What is a pretty, awesome girl like you doing out this late?" 

Dave feels weird talking to you like this, cause you don't know he is actually your best friend but… Dave also finds that a bit helpful? He could never compliment you as Dave, not like this. He would end up blushing and dying from embarrassment. But Kick-Ass? He is a cool dude, who has no problem flirting with the ladies. 

"Oh, well I was hanging with my friends at Atomic Comics." 

"So you like superheros?" he asks, leaning against a wall in a 'cool way'. 

"Oh, yeah."you nod, gulping."I love them." 

You slowly mingled in conversation. Dave softly flirted with you every once in a while and you always responded with a sweet smile and some nice comeback. Both of you were so in the conversation, you didn't even bother to pay attention to your surroundings. Dave for example, didn't even hear the beeping, the warning that he would transfer back from Kick-Ass to Dave Lizewski. When he realized what was going on it was already too late. His kwami fell tiredly into his hands. 

"Oh shit, oh no, oh shit, shit.. Aah." Dave looked around for help, any help but it was worthless. You already saw him transform. You know. 

Dave slowly, terrified of your reaction, gazed over to you. 

But you just stared at him.

"Look, n/n-"

"This is some Peter Parker shit." you whispered,still starring. But then you snapped out of it. "What the actual fuck, Dave?" 

"I know, I know, I am so sorry y/n! I couldn't tell you and fuck! I am so sorry for flirting with you, it's just I could never have the confidence to do that as Dave and- Ah, I just ruined our friendship and I think I should just leave.." he turned around and tried to walk away but you grabbed his hand and pulled him back. You quickly pressed your lips against his. Dave barely had time to react, he froze. Was this really happening? Is this a dream? 

" You are a real asshole, Dave. "you say after pulling away." You are lucky I love you. "

"You what?" Dave asks with his eyes wide open. "I thought you had a 'major crush' on Kick-Ass." 

"Well, yeah, but I like you better." you say with a small smile. Before Dave can say anything you spot the tired kwami in his hand. "Dave, what the fuck is that?" 

"Oh shit." he pulls out a small snack from his pocket and gives it to Kai who starts munching on it immediately. "He is Kai. He is my kwami, he is basically the source of my powers." 

"Uhm, hi." you wave at the small creature. 

The kwami looks up at you and then at Dave. 

"This is wrooong." 

"Shut up, little dude." he turns to you, scratching his back with his free hand. "So, uhm can I walk you home… as not your best friend?" 

You shake your head with a laugh. 

"I want nothing more." you take his hand and you two walk with huge smiles on both of your faces. 

Maybe this was an accident, but at the end of the day Kick-Ass defeated his enemy, saved New York twice, but it was Dave Lizewski who ended up getting the girl.

Here's how I imagined Kai, his kwami (i am no digital artist, i know it look horrible 😂😂) :

taglist: @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff

[oftenderweapons]

heyhey! if possible, i’d like to place my order for a strawberry smoothie + spinach & artichoke dip + clam chowder + bbq sandwich. thank youuuu 💕💕

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Genre: smut. Final fluff. But mostly smut. Pining. Drabble for Bangtan Bistro

Rating: 18+

Tonight we’re serving

- Strawberry Smootie: Kim Taehyung

- Spinach and Artichoke dip: Smut

- Clam Chowder: “What do you mean my meal has already been paid for?” (It’s been rephrased for stylistic purposes)

- BBQ sandwich: Celebrity in Disguise (you need to squint but I swear it’s there just read till the end LOL disguise might have been taken a bit too literally)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: okay, mild alcohol consumption (wine, brandied cherries), swearing, dirty talking, heavy flirting, making out, oral sex (sixty-nine, face fucking male receiving), brief masturbation (male and female receiving), briefest mention of rimming female receiving (just a quick lick *wink wonk*), quite rough sex, manhandling, one degrading comment, impregnation kink and breeding kink, lactation kink (I guess), mild bondage (knees), outright ramming, cumeating and creampie. Final soft, sweet surprise I don’t wanna spoil, I promise it’s a good thing.

Remember to vote for next prompt here and here is my complete masterlist!

Also, lemme self promote my new Taehyung AU

Bfbfhreb there, ready to go! Enjoy 💜✨

Feeling the scorching hotness against your spine was exciting. His eyes were there, planted against the see-through back of your blouse and you could feel them like molten metal dripping down your skin.

He was following the line of pearl buttons tracing your spine, holding close the sheer peacock blue gossamer.

Taehyung licked his lips subconsciously, his mind already wild with pictures of his fingers snapping every button open, one by one.

“Sir, may I ask your order?” A waiter interrupted his musings.

The young man startled. “Steak. Rare. And… Uhm, you do have a Nobile di Montepulciano 2018, right? Just a glass. One for the lady at the bar too. Roasted vegetables with the steak.” He closed the menu and placed it on the table. He loosened his tie discreetly.

The waiter checked the wine chart and confirmed the order. “The steak right away? No appetisers?” He asked.

Taehyung followed you as a polished waitress accompanied you to a table across the room, the iridescent fabric of your top shimmering in a holographic effect under the soft light of the chandeliers.

“No appetisers,” he confirmed, his eyes never leaving you. “About that glass of merlot for the lady. She has moved over there,” he curtly indicated the direction with a nod of his chin. Looking at the waiter he searched the backpocket of his slacks. “Now,” He extracted his wallet, looking for a note and laying a 50,000 won piece on the table. “I know this might come off as rude but I’m asking for more than food, so…” Taehyung let the sentence fall eloquently. “Tell me something about her. Name, phone number, shoe size, I don’t care as long as I get to see her again.”

The waiter’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course, sir. She usually comes here with her friends, but tonight apparently she is by herself. They usually come on Thursday night.”

Thursday, of course.

Taehyung smiled. “Thank you. But I need a bit more than that.”

“I’ll come back with more, I promise.” The waiter bowed politely and left. Shortly after, Taehyung noticed the waiter walking to your table bottle in hand, gesturing to the other table as he talked to you discreetly. From the distance he could recognise a small smirk aimed in his direction, before you turned to the waiter, batting your lashes as you nodded.

He noticed a set of earrings glimmering like twin stars at your earlobes, while a fine thread of diamonds adorned your neck, matching the other pair of jewels.

The waiter poured your wine and leaned towards you, the epitome of politeness as he explained the situation very elegantly.

You were slightly surprised but didn’t let his words sway you too much. Keeping a sphinx-like composure you said something Taehyung couldn’t decipher from the distance, the waiter walking in his direction straight away.

“The lady said she is waiting for you to drink, sir.”

Glass half full, Taehyung lifted it in your direction, waiting for you to mirror the gesture. He cocked an eyebrow as you did, tipping the rim in your direction before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip, observing your red lips lay on the glass while your neck stretched.

Watching your throat move as you swallowed was a vision too erotic for him to handle, and he politely fixed his stance, trying to alleviate his need.

Just as his steak was delivered, he was struck by surprise as the same dish was served at your table.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it a shame that you and him were sitting alone, ten metres apart at two different tables.

A part of him was pleased to realise that you had specifically asked his exact same order; however, his ego was drastically redimensioned once you started eating. You were a tease, licking your lips as the juices from the meat glistened on the deep scarlet colour of your lip tint. He felt embarrassed at the amount of details he could see now thanks to arousal, feeling like a predator as he studied your hands gripping the cutlery, your mouth opening wide for a bite too big, and the wine. He loved watching you drink. He loved watching the diamonds twinkle as your throat moved.

He was almost sad the moment he noticed you had both finished the food.

“Please, put the lady’s bill on me,” the waiter nodded as he took the empty dishes away.

“She wanted me to tell you her shoe size is seven and a half and that she doesn’t want anything less than six inches.”

Taehyung snickered and looked at the table cloth as he felt his cheeks blush. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but would you tell the lady that I’m interested in another kind of number?”

“About that, she mentioned 100-85-120. I believe you can understand perfectly.” The waiter commented. “May I bring the dessert chart? Or would you perhaps be interested in today’s special?”

Taehyung nodded to himself. “What about your divine flaming cherry bites?”

The waiter bowed his head in acknowledgement. “For the lady too?”

Taehyung smiled. “Yes.”

The older man was glad to assist the young customer, not at all because of the tip — he would have considered it rude from anyone else, however the warm smiles and the way he used honorifics and register had the man trusting the wealthy, polished kid. He almost felt fatherly sympathy for the smooth charmer sitting at the table: he looked at the woman with nothing but adoration and devotion. There were at least twenty women in the room, some of which had way more skin on show, and way sultrier looks; still, he only had eyes for you.

Once dessert was delivered at both your tables, the flirting resumed, your instincts awakening dangerously as he made a fine work of licking his fingertips, stained with the chocolate sauce covering the brandied cherries elegantly placed on a small pastry basket.

It was your turn to catch fire as you stared at his deep, dark eyes, his unwavering glance, and the beautiful shape of his mouth, his brown, wavy locks pushed back elegantly. He looked like the devil.

And you had every intention of burning in his flames.

As you asked for the bill, the waiter shook his head politely. “The gentleman at the table over there has already taken care of it, miss.”

Your eyebrows shot up before you smirked. “Then I think I should stop by and thank him.”

“He’ll be more than glad, miss.”

“Thank you for your help. I hope your shift will proceed smoothly, mr Lim.” You rose to your feet.

“It is always a pleasure having you here. Greet your friends on my behalf.”

You chuckled gently. The kind, warm man had seen you and your mates come across the foyer so many times, for dinner or for drinks. He always exchanged greetings and was always happy whenever you asked him about his family and the business. “Will do. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, miss.”

You took slow steps in the man’s direction, stopping beside him. “I believe I owe you a thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He said, looking up at you.

“What if I wanted to thank you.” You replied slowly and quietly.

“How?”

“An empty hotel room can be very lonely.” You said, looking at your feet and toying with a keycard in your hands. “I’ve booked a room to celebrate my birthday and let me tell you everything has been so dull so far.” You pouted a little before shrugging casually. “Maybe we could turn the night a little brighter.”

“I am a gentleman, I don’t really like visiting ladies in their private rooms.” He looked away theatrically. “However, how would I disappoint such a refined woman? And leave you all alone on your birthday. I believe that would be unforgivable.”

“Indeed.” You confirmed.

As he stood up, he placed an arm around your waist. “Sorry, I tend to be an old school romantic. Stop me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I love a bit of romance.” You smiled at him, batting your lashes seducingly. “What brings you here for a lonely dinner?”

“Business.” He replied curtly.

You snickered. “Of course.”

“Floor?” He asked once in the lift.

“Thirty-fourth,” you replied, fixing your skirt.

“Pretty high up,” he commented, pressing the button.

You resisted ten floors before staring at his lips. By floor fourteen his mouth landed on yours, sucking your lower lip, enjoying the plumpness of it before he opened wide, his tongue sliding out and entering your mouth, tickling your palate before swirling round your appendage.

His palm caressed your side, reaching your asscheek and squeezing it, his throat emitting a low hum.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold on anymore,” he apologised as he parted from you once the doors dinged and opened.

You fixed your hair, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way — an excellent excuse to stare at your behind as you walked in front of him.

Once you reached the door, he kissed your nape while you slipped the keycard into the lock. His hands were already fumbling with the tiny buttons before the door would even buzz open.

“You can call me Nymph.” You said, as his hands proceeded working the small buttons.

“Of course. I'm Sir to you.” He stated sternly.

You smiled and shook your head. “Of course.”

You turned around and took off your shirt. “Get yourself naked.” You said distractedly.

He clenched his jaw at your command but obeyed nonetheless. “Nothing less than six inches?” He commented as you slipped off your heels, his glance following the red soles of your stilettos.

With a hand to his chest you pushed him with his back to the wall and teasingly dragged your palm all the way to his belt, lingering there a while before moving further down. “I’m sure you can deliver.”

“In kind.” He smirked, his eyes rolling shut as your fingers teased him over his slacks.

“Naked, now, sir.” You ordered.

“A hungry Nymph we have here.” He commented, undoing his necktie and throwing it on the bed. Next, he only undid the buttons necessary to get his shirt off. His undershirt was gone in seconds, just as your blouse and skirt disappeared, your body clad in a burnt pink silk slip.

Taehyung licked his lips and undid his belt, kicking his slippers close to the door before getting rid of his trousers lightning fast.

“Shall I get on the bed?” You asked, taking a few steps back.

“Oh no. Stay right there, Nymph.” He ordered, standing in nothing but his underwear before placing his hands around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck, your chest, your hardened nipples hidden underneath the smooth silk. He began walking you backwards to the bed.

“Climb,” he purred once the back of your calves touched the mattress, making you turn to face the bed, your body kneeling on the comforter before he pushed your front down, getting you on all fours. He flipped your slip up, exposing your skimpy panties. “I’m gonna rip these.” he growled before biting your ass.

“Don’t. Just take them off.” You replied, turning around to look at him with imploring eyes. You didn't want to ruin the set.

He followed your request, immediately dipping his nose in your wetness once he managed to unstick the fabric from your folds. Shamelessly, he moaned as his tongue went from your dripping hole to your puckered one, laving it lewdly.

“Yes, Sir.” You keened, pushing back against his tongue.

He chuckled, parting from you, standing to his feet and taking off his boxers.

His cock pulsated painfully at the sight of you, at the way you stared at him while he reached the other side of the bed and laid down, settling in the middle, his erection right below your awaiting mouth.

You tried to lower yourself and swallow his tip, however he stopped you. “Get on my face right now, Nymph. I wanna see if you taste as expensive as you look.” He growled.

You simply licked your lips, his cock twitching as your hot exhale caressed his flushed skin. He was so veiny, and all you wanted to do was check if you could feel that against your inner walls. Straddling his face, you settled on top of him, not wasting a second before taking him in your mouth now that he was underneath you, under your control.

He moaned sinfully, his breath hitting your moist skin before his tongue flicked against your entrance, eliciting a contented hum.

For a few minutes all you could hear was the sounds of you sucking his cock, wet slurps filling your ears as your mouth became messy with saliva and his precum. At the same time, Taehyung was enjoying your cunt covering his whole face in juices, while some of his own spit eventually landed on his cheeks, coating his chin and nose too.

He was starved, shameless, wild. He parted from your folds only long enough to say 'naked, now'.

It didn't feel like there was any room for insubordination.

You freed his cock only long enough to remove your slip, sucking it back in your mouth before you took off your bra. As his hands met your breasts, grabbing them with thrilling pain, you felt him push you upwards away from his sex.

“I don't want to cum in your mouth. Gimme that tight, dripping cunt, Nymph,” he growled, touching your clit while his tongue teased the softest flesh of your labia.

“I'm going to ride your face, Sir?” You asked, feeling your breasts starting to bounce as your hips began grinding against him.

“Fuck my face, sweetness.” He replied, your body following his command straight away, your mouth opening in brainless, fucked out whimpers as your orgasm approached.

He kept going.

And even when you started to cum, he went on.

Even when you were humping against him ruthlessly, violently, he continued.

And when he noticed a second high take over, he outright refused to let go, no matter if you cried and begged and yelped.

He only calmed down once he felt you grab his cock and begin to stroke.

He slapped your mound violently, growling minaciously before he pushed you forward, on all fours, grabbing your thighs and opening his legs so that your front fell against the mattress once he pulled your knees from beneath you, placing your drenched core right against his crotch.

His stronger hand spanked your ass. “I told you I want to cum in your cunt and that's what you do?” He hit again. “Touch me so I'll have to cum on my belly like a teen nerd?” Another spank. “Hope you're gonna stay put now.”

He maneuvered the tip to your hole, sliding the head inside.

You purred and whined once you felt him sheathed deep in your core.

The angle was majestic. His upward curve teased the back of your vagina, rubbing against all the right spots, the soft head pressing against the inner nerves of your clitoris.

Just as you tried moving your hips against him, he sat up straighter and grabbed your hips, shoving you on his cock with breakneck speed, making your front burn with the friction against the sheets.

“Sir, please. Please it burns.” You called, desperate after a minute or so, feeling your control slip.

He gave a few more thrusts before he realised you had voiced discomfort. “Inside? Am I going too fast, does it hurt?” He spoke with tenderness and apprehension.

You shook your head. “My chest against the sheets.” You explained with a small whine.

He nodded and laid down,catching your leg and leading it in a half circle motion, helping you roll on your back as you unstraddled him.

However, his kindness was short-lived. As soon as he found your calves beside his chest, he grabbed your ankles and sat up, bending your knees and blocking them with his forearm; his free hand searched for the necktie and, once he found it, he expertly slid it beneath your legs, and then around them, tying a knot above the swell of your calves.

You stared at him with your mouth open, eyes wide and inquisitive before a naughty grin lit up your face.

He rose to his knees, crawling closer to you, bending your knees to your chest and letting your ankles settle over his left shoulder.

“Hold on tight, Nymph.” He said, bracing a hand beside your face as he lined his shaft with your cunt, sliding in effortlessly, grunting at the unspeakable tightness of your sex. “Fuck me so good, sweetness.” He mumbled. “I'm gonna rail you.” He groaned as he felt his balls tighten. “I'm gonna fill you up and watch those tits grow once you're full of my babies.” He teased. “Now you're gonna milk this cock and take every drop of my cum.”

You mewled at his sinful intent, squeezing round him and feeling his hand generously finger your clit.

“Please, fill me up. Please. I want to be heavy with your babies.”

“And you're gonna lactate them.” He whispered darkly at your ear, making the gesture feel so dirty, even though it was just natural mammal anatomy.

“I will, Sir.” You cried out, feeling your end tower over you.

“And once they're done suckling, I'll take my turn.” He growled. He had only maybe three strokes left before he would cum.

“I'm yours. All yours. Please, breed me, Sir. I'm yours,” you wailed, voice close to breaking.

“You are my horny little cumslut,” he snarled before joining your mouth with his, covering both your and his cries as you finally reached the peak.

His cock drilled deep into you as he coated your inner walls in cum, the hotness and stickiness of it pouring out of you and gluing him to your entrance.

It felt magnificent.

“I know you.” He whispered gently at your ear. “My most precious darling.”

You were still drifting ecstatically, your eyes opening slowly, lazily.

“Hello Lace.” He cooed at you, smiling softly. “Welcome back, my love.”

You mirrored his smirk and wiggled your feet against his shoulder. “Hello, my beloved fiancé. Would you please do me the courtesy of untying that?” You arched an eyebrow.

He chuckled and obeyed, almost expecting you to slide off of him; instead, you simply moved a leg to his other side and crossed your ankles behind him to tug him close to you.

“That impregnation thingie really got you going, uh?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He nodded and kissed your chest, cupping it softly and pecking your nipples, your skin still flushed from the burning friction and the recent orgasm. “Even though I know you're covered, I find the idea so sexy.” He confirmed, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “You looked very hot in that outfit. It really made me want to seduce you all over again.”

“It was fun watching you act the part. You even tipped the waiter.” You chuckled.

“You told me your measurements, Miss 'no less than six inches'.” He kissed your earlobe. “Do you know they're the combination of the apartment safe?”

You laughed and then quieted down for a second. “I wanted to jump your bones the very moment I saw you.”

“Happy to know my future wife still gets the hots for me.” He commented, matter-of-factly.

You giggled quietly. “I love you.”

He combed your hair slowly, tenderly. “I love you too.”

[consumedkings-archive]

v. equitable exchange ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “ew, that is so sappy i might vomit” taken from this prompt list!

word count: 2k

warnings: john being himself. elliot’s mother is terror. otherwise, they’re just being cute and enjoying each other. also naughty language, of course!

“It’s incredible how relaxed you get,” John remarked, sitting across from her, “as soon as you get out of Hope County.”

Elliot blinked at him. They’d only been dating for six months, but in that short time, John had proven he was more perceptive than she might have given him credit for. Sure, he was a little dense (read: selfish), but he was exceptionally good at reading her, which was rapidly becoming a problem.

That was to say—Elliot did not like being so easily read. Especially not at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant, after not having seen John for two weeks because work had gotten so busy she’d thought about pretending to be dead to get a few days of rest, and then resurrect herself Christ-like to get back on payroll.

“It’s not Hope County,” she explained after a moment. She opened her mouth to say, it’s my mom, she’s fucking bananas and will not stop harassing me about dating some nice boy that one of her ex-debutante frenemies mentions on the phone every day, but that felt like a lot to say all in one go, and a lot to say to John Seed, so she didn’t. “It’s just—stuff.”

“Ah, the ever-enigmatic and elusive stuff,” John reiterated, snagging her hand and bringing her fingers up to his mouth to kiss. “Turn that brain of yours off for a few minutes, won’t you? If you’re not going to elaborate on what it is that’s bothering you.”

“Sure,” Elliot replied dryly, “let me just find the switch here and…”

As she was busying herself mock-searching for the non-existent flip that would shut her brain down—and wouldn’t that be nice, to be fucking brain dead for a moment?—her eyes traveled the length of the room and stopped short on a tall, lean blonde laughing with a few other women as they walked into the restaurant.

Their eyes locked. The woman said, “Elli?” and in an act of self-preservation, Elliot scooted her chair out from the table abruptly and came to a stand, as though to sprint away.

“Ell?” John asked as she ripped her hand away from him.

“Uh,” she said. She then failed to elaborate.

“Elli, is that you?” her mother called, more fervently now, that sugar-sweet Southern drawl ringing around in her head as the alarm systems went off. Oh no, she thought frantically, trying to think of quick ways out—bust a glass open and just end it, maybe, pretend like she had amnesia, or literally anything—oh no, oh fuck no, oh God, fuck, I can’t do this, not right now, I’m not prepared.

“We have to go,” she blurted out. “John? Earth to John? Code red, we’re leaving.”

“But I just opened the wine—”

“Elli, that is you!”

Bless his heart, John continued curiously, “Who is that?” when he noticed the woman, and Elliot stifled a moan of agony.

“That’s stuff,” she hissed, grabbing his hand, “please, can we go—”

All of her fight-or-flight had kicked in, which was ridiculous if someone were to look at the situation objectively—that she was having this kind of a reaction, but if anyone knew anything about Scarlet Honeysett it was that—

“Go where?” her mother asked, now standing directly in the nearly-perfect geographical center between Elliot and John, on the other side, and it was painful to experience. Scarlet looked, per usual, absolutely polished; meticulously-maintained golden hair perfectly curled, her blouse and skirt pressed and prim.

“Nowhere,” Elliot managed out. “I’m—nowhere, mama. Just—” She scrambled. “Just thought I saw a… Spider on the table.”

“Ah,” Scarlet replied, and she didn’t sound convinced. A long moment stretched where she was aware of her mother waiting for her to introduce John and John waiting for her to introduce him, when finally her mother said, “Well, who’s your little friend, honey?”

Little friend. Like they hadn’t been dating for six months (not that she knew), like she didn’t let John fuck her filthy every time they visited each other. Elliot felt a dizzying surge of anxiety shoot through her body and tried to push it down.

“He’s m-my—John,” she said, and immediately kicked herself. Dropping his hand unceremoniously, she added, “My… boyf-uuh… boyf-f-”

“… boyfriend,” John finished for her, like she hadn’t just gone fucking stupid in the last five minutes for some reason. He gave her a funny, questioning look before he turned his full charm on and reached his hand out to Scarlet. “John Seed. It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Honeysett, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”

Scarlet shook his hand. Her gaze flickered down, and before John could retreat, she turned their gripped hands so that the top of his was facing up, inspecting it critically. Her eyes turned back to Elliot.

“He has tattoos,” she said and did not ask, in the kind of forced friendliness she used when she was talking to one of the aforementioned ex-debutante frenemies that liked to gossip about her.

“Yes,” said John, which was really all he could say.

“It wasn’t a question, darlin’,” Scarlet murmured idly.

“Mama,” Elliot began, “we should—um, can we—it’s just—”

“Elliot Savannah!” came an additional voice, and oh, she just wanted to shrink up and disappear when the flowery rose-perfume scent washed over her. The shock of bright auburn hair immediately came into her vision and warm arms were thrown around her neck. “I was wonderin’ if we were ever gonna see you again. Aw, honey, look at your red little cheeks.”

“Delia,” Elliot greeted, feeling faint. She returned the hug but could not ignore the way that John stood to the side. She was sure that he wasn’t accustomed to not immediately charming the pants off of anyone, and certainly, it was partially her fault they were now in this situation—after all, she hadn’t prepared him at all for what her mother was like. “It’s—so nice to see you again.”

“So nice to see you, my sweet girl,” Delia replied warmly. It was not lost on her that her mother’s one true friend was the first to reach and hug her, not her own mother. “And your very handsome man-friend, too.”

Delia swept away from Elliot to rescue John, who looked almost relieved to be admired and chatted to rather than glanced over with the sort of critical eye that Scarlet afforded to just about everything and everyone that came across her path. Delia’s apparent rescue of John left Elliot to shift under her mother’s gaze.

“Bunny,” Scarlet said, keeping her voice very mild, “have you been cutting your hair short?”

“Mama,” she sighed.

“I just think you look so pretty when it’s long. You know, your daddy never knew what to do with all that hair, but he learned to braid it just for—”

“We’re in the middle of dinner,” Elliot interrupted before her mother could wax poetic about the things that her father did well prior to his clinical and methodical abandonment of them. “And I haven’t seen John for a few weeks, so.”

So. The word hung between them, the sound of Delia fawning over John and feeding him all of the admiration and older-woman-flirtation he could probably want, and Scarlet waited. She didn’t speak; she was exceptionally good at this kind of little game, which they had always played, where Elliot would say something like so with the implication that Scarlet should be able to infer what she meant and her mother would refuse to.

“… just love our Elliot,” Delia gushed warmly. “You’re taking good care of her, aren’t you?”

“Oh, the very best,” John assured her. “It’s been—”

“Six months,” Elliot supplied.

Scarlet arched a brow upward. “That’s a long time to be seeing someone.” She glanced at John. “And so alternative, too.”

“Mother.”

“I only mean,” Scarlet continued, “that I wish you would have said something. I’ve been chatting with Blaire and her son is very interested in meeting you. It just feels rude to take it back, is all, and if you answered my phone calls—”

“I’m busy with work,” Elliot protested.

“But not busy enough to date someone secretly for a few months,” her mother shot back with all of the practiced politeness of a woman who made a living out of it.

John cleared his throat. “Six months.”

Elliot passed a hand over her face, exhaling sharply through her nose as she muddled through the anxiety and fury that her mother tended to inspire in her. A moment of silence stretched, too long and far too uncomfortable, before Delia clapped her hands together and made a soft sound.

“Well, I am just starvin’!” she exclaimed. “Scarlet, honey, you ready to eat?”

“I haven’t any kind of appetite,” Scarlet responded spitefully, and Elliot groaned and said, “You are so petty,” just as her mother plunged on, “but I suppose I’m ready to go.”

“Great,” Delia said, feigning cheerfulness. “Elliot, you’ll come and find us before you leave, won’t you? We’ll let you get back to dinner with your honey, and we’ll be waitin’ for you.”

As Delia steered her mother away and back to where the gaggle of ladies were standing around and watching the interaction from a safe distance, John sat himself back down at the table and poured his glass full of wine—far beyond what was normally considered a regular pour—and then did the same for her glass.

Elliot sat too and brought the glass to her mouth. Even though her mother’s presence inspired in her the most homicidal tendencies, so much so that she tried to avoid drinking at all around her, it felt necessary at this moment.

“That can’t be your mom,” John said conversationally. “She’s so tall.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Bunny?”

Elliot moaned, burying her face into her hands. It was the worst possible series of events that could happen: there was nothing in her that had prepared in the least to have to explain herself to her mother, and so of course the thing that she had done was not explain anything, because Scarlet Honeysett could not resist taking a dig at her daughter at any point in time.

“Hey,” John said lowly, scooting his chair over so that they were no longer on opposite ends of the table but rather perpendicular from one another, “drink your wine, we’ll lock the door on their insanely pretentious bathroom-with-a-couch, I’ll get you nice and relaxed, and then you’ll be ready to deal with your mom again.”

“You don’t get it,” Elliot protested, even when John’s words made heat crawl up into her cheeks

“I don’t really need to,” John replied flippantly. “Who gives a fuck if your mom doesn’t like me?”

“I do!” she insisted, distressed. “I care, and I had a very specific way that I wanted you to meet her, and she’s—God, she’s so—she always ruins fucking everything, John, you don’t get it.”

John leaned in, tilting her chin up, and kissed her. When he did, he tasted like red wine; his fingers slid to the back of her neck and cradled her there so that he could say against her mouth, “I’m not worried about it, hellcat.”

“I am.”

“Well, stop,” he replied amusedly. “You’re my girl, and regardless of your—very tall and honestly, statuesque—mother’s opinion of me right now—”

She sighed. “John.”

“—I will make sure that she likes me,” he finished. “I will charm her so fucking hard she’ll be begging you to marry me.”

Elliot made a low, tired sound. After a second, she said, “You’ll have to go to galas. And gatherings. Weddings. There are always so many weddings. Not to mention the charity functions, and—”

John hummed. “I will. Every single event that she invites me to. Maybe even a few she doesn’t, you know, just for fun.” He paused, and kissed her again. “All for you, baby. Anything for you. Even suffering through debutante events.” And then, playfully: “Bunny.”

“Ew,” the blonde groaned, suffering through the saccharine. “That is so sappy, I might vomit.”

“Please don’t,” he said, “I’m really enjoying kissing you.”

Elliot smiled against his mouth. “Okay,” she murmured, “but only if you don’t ever fucking call me bunny again.”

“Fair trade.”

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [9]

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 9.5 OR Chapter 10

➜ Words: 3.9k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

➜ Warnings: Heavy mentions of sexual themes.

cr.

Fuck romance.   That shit is overrated anyway. Everywhere you look, there’s love here and there — in television shows, movies, advertisements, short stories, novels. But it hits you like a train, like a light switch that finally turned on in your head, you don’t need love to be happy. You don’t need someone else. You’re perfectly content with being by yourself for the rest of your life. You’ll never have to shackle yourself down or compromise again. It’s the ultimate freedom.    “I approve this message.” Aeri nods several times.   “Right?!” You wipe away the cheeto dust that’s accidentally sprinkled on the pouch you call your stomach. Your sweater’s ridden up as you’re slumped over her bed. “Like do people even realize that almost half of marriages end in divorce?”   “Exactly.”   “Love? It’s all trash feelings. It’s a distraction. Why should I have to work hard for years and then throw away my career and ambition to stay at home and have kids and then eventually be divorced and have to fight over custody?” There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you shake your head.    “Men ain’t shit.”   “Hallelujah.” You don’t believe in love anymore, not when you’ve come to realize that you’ve been brainwashed for so long. Now, you were enlightened. But you just can’t believe you were so blinded and stupid in the first place. You were crying over a guy who wasn’t worth shit. “But where are you going?”   Aeri is dressed up in a summer outfit despite it being the end of February and still frigid outside. She looks at herself in the mirror, fixes her lipstick and then whirls around. “Oh, I’m just...meeting up with Hoseok.”   “You’re going on a date?”   A blush creeps up on her cheeks. “N-No. W-Well...he didn’t really call it that.”   “Oh my god, all my friends are leaving to the dark side.”   “Just for a little, love.” She winks at you and you can’t hate her when she’s so evidently excited. Aeri grabs her bag and smiles. “Well I shouldn’t make him wait. How do I look?”   “If Jung doesn’t cream himself, he doesn’t deserve you.”   The tips of her ears turn scarlet and she throws a pillow at you, making you laugh. You watch Aeri leave and then the silence settles. You sigh and get up to go to your only friend left.   Your fist pounds on his door for a good second until it opens.   “Jesus, try not to break it down, will you?”   “Hey, Yoongi,” you greet the person on the worn sofa, brushing past Jungkook. “Where’s the other guys?”   “Well, unlike you two, people actually have their own lives,” Jungkook mutters, flopping down to where his butt’s been imprinted into the couch seat and he resumes his game.   “Taehyung and Jimin are in class like good students,” Yoongi says, “and I’m only here cause Hope’s ditched me for a lame date apparently.”   “Same.”   “Is my room a refugee camp?” Jungkook glances over with his brow cocked. “Am I everyone’s second choice?”   “Get used to it,” Yoongi mutters, watching Jungkook play.   In the meanwhile, you walk over to Jungkook’s bed that’s sloppily made with the covers wrinkled, but at least the effort shows. You’re about to flop down and maybe roll over to take a nap, but then you pause, gawking at his collection of IU merchandise.   You’ve seen it before, but you realize you’ve never gotten a good look. There are posters of her from when she debuted in 2008 until the most recent comeback lining the corner of his wall like a small shrine. And over his bed is a shelf of albums and her lightstick. “Wow, you have a lot of her stuff. Must’ve costed a fortune.”   It occurs to you that he even had a substantial amount of IU things in his room at his parent’s home — little things that you didn’t pay mind to at the time — a sweater that was on a hook, more albums, some DVD sets, posters of her in her dramas.   Your comment seems to trigger a reaction from him. Jungkook pauses the game and those bambi eyes of his are rounded. He’s defensive. “What?”   “He’s got a massive hard on for her,” Yoongi snickers.   “Don’t talk about Jieun like that.”   You steal a glimpse of Jungkook, rather puzzled over his hobby. You just never expected Jeon Jungkook to have an idol, or rather, celebrity crush. “Why do you like her so much?”    He looks like he doesn’t even know where to start. “She’s just so...talented.”   “Oh, here we go again.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.   “Shut up,” Jungkook spits and then turns to answer your question seriously. “Her voice is beautiful, she’s good at singing, she can play guitar, and she’s really cute. She produces a lot of her music too. And her personality is great. She’s kind and funny. She donates a lot and stuff like that.” Jungkook shrugs. “I just like her.”   “Yeah I get it.” You nod while staring into IU’s eyes. “She’s pretty hot and cute. I’d do her if given the chance.”   His big nose wrinkles. “You act like you don’t have any celebrity crushes either.”   “True. If Song Joongki walked through the door right now, I would throw myself at his feet and he could do whatever he wants with me. He’s so handsome and such a sweet guy.” You sigh wistfully, wishing you had someone like that. “Do you have any celebrity crushes, Yoongi?”   “What’s her face from the Notebook.”   “Rachel McAdams?”   “Yeah, her.”   “Okay, I can see that. Jungkook!”   “What?”   “Would you smash or pass Rachel McAdams?”   He wrinkles his nose again. “Smash, I guess.”   “You guess.” A scoff comes from your throat. “What? You think you’re too good for her?”   “No. She’s just okay.”   “You’re wrong,” Yoongi deadpans, making you laugh.   You ask— “Okay, how about Sana from Twice? Smash or pass.”   “Smash.” — “Pass.”   Both you and Yoongi look at him with brows raised and you audibly gasp. “Dude, even I would smash her. Why would you pass? She’s cute and hot. Isn’t that your type?”   “No.” Jungkook snorts. “You don’t know my type.”   “Okay, so who would you smash then?”   “I don’t know. Maybe Gong Hyo Jin. That main girl from Master’s Sun.”   “Seriously?”   Jungkook glances over. “Why?”   “No, she’s pretty and really girl-next-door-ish. She’s just older, like twenty one years older than us.”   “Yeah, well, she’s good at what she does. She’s a good actress.”   Apparently being good at what they do is enough for Jungkook to want to bang them.   It’s a juvenile game, but a fun one. And it’s particularly interesting to hear both Yoongi and Jungkook’s responses. They’re unpredictable, unlike Taehyung who you’re sure would say yes to anything as long as it breathed, and Jimin who would be too shy to answer.   “How about people we know? Byun Baekhyun.”   “No.” Yoongi answers right away. “He’s so loud, he gives me a headache.”   “If you find him annoying, it makes for good hate sex.”   “Sure. But that’s still a no.”   “Okay then, who would you say yes to?”   “I don’t really swing that way but if I were to give it a shot, maybe Kim Jongin, just so he can teach me how he gets the ladies.”   “Word,” Jungkook mutters, concentrating on his game.   “Or maybe Lee Ken,” Yoongi points out. “His face looks good enough for me to spit on.”   “That’s disgusting.” Jungkook wears a distressed expression, looking at you as if to ask if you’re hearing the same things he is, but you merely laugh.   “Trust me, Ken’s a screamer. Jin told me about it when they shared a room during their first year.” You don’t notice how Jungkook pauses his game at the mention of your ex. He stares at you from across the room, on the edge of his seat, but you don’t have a trace of sadness on your features. “He’ll burst your eardrums. He’s a loud dude.”   “No thanks then.” Yoongi hums and bluntly considers, “Maybe Seokjin then. He’s pretty good looking. Looks spitable.”   You smile softly. “He’s too nice for you, Yoongi.”   You recall the faded memories with Seokjin, but they don’t make you feel so sad anymore. Your heart doesn’t ache as much. It makes you wonder if this is what it means to move on.   //   The cardboard box is in your lap as you study the small trinket in your hand before tossing it in. Everything that Jin ever gave to you, anything that’s associated with him, sweaters and tokens, key chains from amusement parks and stuffed animals he gave is thrown in the box or stuffed in a trash bag.   “I wonder if I’ll ever regret giving this stuff away.”   “Maybe, but you’ll always have new stuff and new memories and all that.”   “Yeah.” You remind yourself that you’re just making space for the new memories you’ll make — maybe with Aeri, maybe with Taehyung and Yoongi, Hoseok or Jimin, or Jungkook, or just by yourself.   Jungkook helps you put away the stuff, asking every once in a while if you wish to discard a certain object. You had asked for his help, afraid you would chicken out, and you promised him that in return, you would buy him a meal.   It seems like you owe a lot to Jungkook these days.   You donate it all before deleting all of Seokjin’s contact information on your phone. The pressed rose he once gave you on your first date and the first note he ever passed you in class is thrown away too.   Finally, you’ve severed your ties with Seokjin once and for all. It’s a bittersweet moment, like sugar mixed with coffee. Not quite sweet but not quite bitter.   The room seems emptier, but it’s welcoming.   “So where are you going to treat me?”   Suddenly, a light bulb flicks on inside your brain. Your entire face lights up and Jungkook notices, shifting on his spot in discomfort. It’s never good when you have ideas. “I think I know something better we can do.”   “Better than eating?”   “When was the last time you ate some pussy, Jeon?”   Jungkook chokes on his spit. He wheezes. And pounds his chest. Jungkook’s doe eyes look at you in horror like he’s been personally violated. “What?”   You repeat the question and he makes a strangled noise like he’s absolutely disgusted talking about this with you.    “Are you ten? Answer the question.”   “I don’t know! Maybe like over a year ago,” he rambles in a breath, “I dated a girl named Olivia for a few months but then it didn’t end up working out, so we broke up.”   You put your hand on your friend’s shoulder, squeezing securely while nodding once. “I think we're both deprived of some good pussy and cock.”   “So what do you propose?” He doesn’t know where you’re going with this.   “We go to a club and get ourselves some one-night stands.”   “That’s a terrible idea,” Jungkook spits without even needing to think. It’s instinctive. Impulsive. Like he knows not to squeeze a lemon into his eye, to not touch his crotch area after handling chili peppers, to not take toast out with a metal fork.   “Why not?” You shrug. “Some low-level commitment, no love or strings attached sex. We don’t need relationships to keep us satisfied and we don’t need to keep...you know handling it ourselves…” Your hand makes a rounded circle and you thrust back and forth obscenely, wiggling your brows, and it makes Jungkook groan.   “Oh my god. Please stop.”   “Listen, I’ll be the best wingwoman you’ve ever seen. I owe you, right? So I’ll find you the best fuck of life and then I’ll find my own. I see this as an absolute win-win.”   “It’ll be fun,” you insist and then pout when he continues to glare. “If you’re not coming, I’ll go by myself.”   “You’re not going by yourself,” Jungkook says.   “Why? You can’t tell me what to do. What are you, my dad?”   “Why? Because you’re an idiot. If I see you on the news, I’ll never be able to forgive myself….” You scoff and he continues. “—for being best friends with such an idiot…”   “Are you coming or not, jackass?”   Jungkook sighs.   //   It’s spontaneous. One moment he’s in your dorm room and the next blink, there are strobe lights flashing around, sweaty bodies, and deafening music. The alcohol on his tongue is certainly not enough to make him feel remotely sane. Jungkook didn’t even have enough time to drag Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok or Yoongi over. You told him that it was a two man mission and any more people would only serve as a distraction to the main goal.   He’s not sure what you think that goal is. Jungkook isn’t really a one-night stand kind of guy.   “Hey!” You scream in his ear above the booming beat, making him wince. Your breath is stained with that tequila. “What do you think of her?!” You point to a girl dancing on the floor. “She’s got a great ass!”   He internally sighs. “Why don’t you go fuck her then?!”   “What?” Your voice strains above the music.   “Go fuck her!” He points.   You frown, lips lopsided. “You want to suck her?!”    Jungkook’s last two brain cells are about to die. “Never mind!”   “What?!”   He shakes his head and then you giggle.    Jungkook wonders if you’re just fucking with him, but before he can even react and perhaps punch you, you’re leaning over the bar, waving your arm towards the bartender. “Excuse me! Can we get two shots again?!”   Of all the shit you make him go through, he’s hoping you don’t get drunk. He can’t carry your ass back to the dorm. His back is too precious for your idiocy.   The two of you down the alcohol given to you and he shudders after. The taste is sharp and beginning to dull his senses. You can feel it too, how the world is spinning faster and that’s when you begin, clasping your hands together. “Alright!” You lean in close to talk into his ear, breath skimming against his neck. “Let’s get down to business, Jeon. Anyone caught your attention yet? How about her?”   You signal to a busty girl sitting alone at the bar. She’s in a tight, red dress with her lips matching the same crimson shade. Her black hair contrasts the boldness, cascading down her back in waves.    Jungkook looks and then glances at you. “Not re—Hey! Where are you going?!”   You strut with drunken confidence, sliding up to the girl with plans to be the best wingwoman on this planet. “Is it always this noisy?”   The girl turns her head and visibly relaxes to see another female and not a greasy dude. “Well, it’s a club. So yeah, it usually is.”   “I’m just not used to it.” You sigh and take a seat on the stool. “Know any good drinks?”   “Chardonnay’s pretty good,” she tells you with a friendly, open expression. “Usually wine sucks at bars, but it’s pretty good here.”   “I’ll order it then,” you muse and extend your arm with a grin. “I’m Y/N.”   “Hyuna.” She shakes your hand, red lips curling.   “Can you do me a favour, Hyuna?” You point across the bar to Jungkook. He’s frozen. Watching you in horror like you’re trying to seduce his mom or something.    You wish he’d wipe that stupid fucking expression off his face. It’s not helping. Frankly, it ruins his looks and for once he’s not in gym shorts or sweatpants. Jungkook’s dark hair is gelled back, black dress shirt and black trousers fitted to his muscular frame. It took so much nagging to get him dressed up, but it was worth it. If he didn’t look so dumb, you would be proud of your best friend.   “My poor friend here really likes you, but he’s pretty shy. If you said hi, I’m pretty sure it would make his entire night.”   Hyuna gazes at him and her smile only widens. “I’d be happy to help.”   “Great!” You slide off the stool, strutting back. Inside your head, you are screaming for joy that you actually pulled that shit off on the first try without getting a drink thrown in your face.    Maybe you should consider switching career paths.   Jungkook leans in close to you when you’re in earshot distance. “What the hell are y—”   “Jungkook, this is Hyuna. Hyuna, this is Jeon Jungkook.”   Her hips sway as she approaches him and she extends her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”   Jungkook shakes it with a polite smile, trying to diminish the awkwardness and attempting to be civil. In the meanwhile, Hyuna’s cat-eyes sweep him up and down, focusing on how his pants are tight around the meat of his thighs.   Her perfume fills your senses. “Nice to meet you.”   You stick your nose between them. “Jungkook goes to baking school, so he knows how to knead dough! He’s really good at it!” You grab his wrist, pulling it up in front of her eyes. “Look at his hands!”   “Oh god, shut up.” If there was enough light in the room, you’re sure his face would be beet red. But unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s embarrassment is second-hand. He takes his own hand back and looks at the stranger. “I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She’s obviously drunk.”   “I’m not!” You’re just….happier. A little giddy. On an energy high.   Hyuna giggles and looks between you both. “Are you two togethe—”   “No.” Jungkook cuts her off and is truly thankful his relationship with you isn’t like that. He can barely handle you as a friend. Anything more would frankly be overwhelming. “We aren’t.”   “Oh, okay, cool. I thought this was going to be a threesome situation.”   Jungkook starts wheezing as you giggle. You put your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeeze. “Oh no, he can’t keep up with me. Not for miles. Anyway, I’ll leave you two at it. I should probably go to the bathroom, gotta take a leak.”   “Y/N.” Jungkook calls after you. “Y/N! L/N Y/N!”   He shouts after you, tightening his fist and wondering if you actually have the outrageous audacity to leave him behind like this with some chick you picked up like you just went grocery shopping. But much to his dismay, you don’t even glance behind you. You dive into the sweaty bodies, disappearing from sight.   He groans internally and turns back to Hyuna.   She smiles at him. “So you bake?”   “Yeah, well, I’m in this pastry program.”   “Wow.” Her thick lashes bat. “That’s so impressive! So you can make whatever dessert you want?”   “Working towards it.” He smiles meekly. “Are you, uh, here by yourself?”   Jungkook has never done this before, never talked to a girl like this — but so far it’s not bad. Probably because it was her who was salvaging the conversation and lessening the stiffness.   “It’s actually one of my friends’ birthday today, so we’re just out celebrating, but I lost them in the crowd.” She flashes a million watt smile. “I assume you’re just with your friend, Y/N?”   “Yeah, she dragged me out here. She’s a headache. I swear she’s shaving years off of my life.”   Hyuna laughs and bats his arm. She leans close and he swallows hard at the way her eyes sparkle, her lashes thick, and her cleavage is practically shoved in his face. “Want to dance?”   “I don’t really…”   “It’ll be fun. Trust me.” She takes his hand and drags him out on the floor.   In the meanwhile, half across the club, you’re dancing to the music. It’s not until a second later that you feel someone's hands on your waist and you turn around in their arms.    In dark lights, you make out a half-decent looking guy. “Shake that ass, babe.”   You smile at him, looping your arms around his neck. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Giving into temptation and the heat of another person’s body, not having to commit to someone else and put yourself out there. Maybe you were doing it all wrong to begin with.   You don’t even know his name, but you dance with the stranger, your sweaty bodies moving against one another. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but eventually he presses his crotch to your front and offers to buy you a drink through a whisper in your ear.   When you get to the bar, you don’t see Jungkook and Hyuna anymore and you wonder if he’s getting lucky in the washroom or if he’s gone completely.    But you try not to dwell on what your best friend might be doing. You focus on the present moment and order a Strawberry Daiquiri. You’re sipping your drink as you talk to the guy. You don’t exactly catch his name, but it doesn’t matter. The fewer connections, the better. After all, you’re just looking for a rebound.   But you’ve never done this before and in your nervousness and intoxication, you end up on a tangent. “Like it’s so easy to make better cheesecake! And there’s so many kinds of cheesecake.”   “Cheesecake?” The tall blonde frowns as if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about.   “Yeah! Cheesecake! All you need is the crust, cream cheese, sugar, eggs, sour cream, vanilla extract, and all-purpose flour! My favourite is actually chocolate cheesecake in a restaurant back at home and they had chocolate wafer crumbs in the crust and it was so delicious, must have had ganache between the layers or something. I can’t remember anymore.”   “Oh, cool.” The guy glances around, looking at the other people on the dance floor and the bar. When he realizes you’ve stopped talking, he directs his attention to you again. “Uh, what’s a ganache?”   “Ganache? It’s just chocolate and heavy cream and you can use it as a glaze, icing, sauce, or filling for pastries. You’ve probably had it before if you’ve had chocolate cake!”   “I see.” His eyes flicker down to the swell of your chest exposed by your small black number, and they linger there. “You ever tried pouring chocolate over your body?”   “What?”   You realize he doesn’t care about baking — he doesn’t care for what you have to say.   The guy excuses himself to the bathroom and never comes back. After ten minutes of waiting, you sigh and check your phone. You stand up, ready to leave as it occurs to you one-night stands aren’t really your thing.   You’re about to text Jungkook, but you catch his mop of hair on the dance floor. He’s dancing with Hyuna, her back pressed to his front. His hands are placed on the dips of her waist, grinding his front against her ass that’s pushed out. You make a face of disgust before snapping a blurry picture and sending to the group chat.   But Jungkook seems to be having fun, out of breath, but still enjoying himself. You’re happy for him, glad that at least one of you is getting lucky tonight. Or rather, it was Hyuna getting lucky.   Jungkook’s a great catch. You wonder why you didn’t realize it sooner. Whoever ends up with him will be fortunate.

[jjungkookislife]

Last Chance

pairing: jungkook x oc

genre: detective au

wc: 2.6k

warnings: cursing, mention of hazing in passing, jungkook and yoongi wear dresses and heels undercover, mention of prostitution, jungkook gets called a lady

a/n: I may continue this someday, but for now it’s in the rejects masterlist

date: August 1, 2020

“This is all your fault, Jeon!”

“Mine?! You’re the one who suggested The Rogue Hotel!”  Jeon fires back angrily, folding his arms across his chest.  The hard surface of the metal bench making him wish he were anywhere else but there.

“And who suggested we wear the dresses, huh?” 

“Still you, Min!” Jeon scoffs, his eyes shooting daggers at his older partner sitting beside him in a black dress with black wedges on his feet.  They can’t even sit far apart from each other because they’ve been handcuffed together.

“Oh, you’re right,” Min chuckles, his head lolling back to rest against the concrete wall, his eyes fluttering shut as he listens to the officers on the other side of their holding cell.

“What are we going to do now?  Chief Kim is going to have our ass!”  Jeon exclaims worriedly as he looks past the metal bars to see the officers of a nearby precinct huddled together waiting for the fingerprint results to come back.

“We need to call Namjoon,” Min sighs dejectedly knowing his ass will get chewed out once again and possibly get demoted.

“How could you not know The Rogue was a hotel known for ‘ladies of the night’?”  Jeon is still fuming at his partner, his leg now bouncing up and down with anxiety.  They would get into so much trouble once Chief Kim found out. 

“Is that common knowledge?”  How do you even know that, Jeon?”

“Ever had a conversation with Seokjin in booking?  He loves the Rogue,” Jeon explains as he worries his lip between his teeth.  His heart is pounding in his chest erratically, sweat running down the back of his neck to soak into the material of his emerald green dress.  His silver heels are pinching his toes and all he can think about is trying to get out without his boss finding out.

“Seokjin and The Rogue?  Huh, ain’t that something?” Min muses in his seat, already giving up on the idea that he’d be getting out unscathed from this failed operation.

“Can you fucking focus?  In a few minutes they’re going to realize who we are and call Namjoon!” Jeon hisses, making Min roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Isn’t it better to just get it over with?”  

“You’re giving up already?” Jeon questions his partner, who shrugs in response without giving a verbal answer.

“Jeon! Min!” Both men turn to see their arresting officer standing in front of them with a wide, knowing grin on his face.

“My girlfriend is going to leave me after this!” Min groans as he drags Jeon’s hand upwards to rub at his face in frustration.  His world was collapsing in seconds after another failed mission, and his girlfriend had made it clear she would leave him if he lost his job.  Min had nothing left to give, so he waited to be reprimanded.

“What? Why?”  Jeon asks, his head whipping to turn to his partner, ignoring the arresting officer.

“She wants a baby and if I lose my job, then she’ll leave me.  She’s tired of waiting,” Min shrugs, turning his head to the annoyed officer struggling with the lock on the cell, Jeon noticing the name Jung on his badge.

“Chief Kim is here... and he’s not happy,” Officer Jung smirks as the two men see their chief walk into the room, eyes in slits with rage, his jaw taut as he storms towards their cell.  Officer Jung opens the cell, motioning for the two detectives to come towards him, his key undoing the handcuffs.

“Thank you, Officer Jung.  I’ll take it from here,”  Chief Namjoon states, his eyes not leaving his incompetent subordinates.  Both men look at their feet, faces burning with embarrassment as the entire squad room laughs at them before Chief Namjoon is turning on his heel and walking towards the exit.  

Jeon and Min push each other, avoiding the gaze of the squad room as they follow their Chief.  Jeon’s heels clicking on the tile floor, his face scarlet with humiliation.  He’s never been more humiliated in his life, not even during hazing at the academy.

Chief Kim doesn’t speak as he opens the squad car, motioning for Min and Jeon to get in the back, he’s too enraged to have one of them in the front seat.  They’re not deserving.

The whole drive back to their precinct is silent, Jeon focuses his attention on the passing buildings while Min is trying to accept his fate of being unemployed and single.

When the car finally stops in front of the precinct, Chief Kim is too mortified to have them walk in with him through the door.  He types in the code to allow himself in, opening the door to his office to quickly escort Min and Jeon inside.

The two subordinates take a seat in front of Chief Kim’s desk, the door slamming shut behind Chief Kim as he stomps to his desk to sit on his chair.  Nothing is said as he places his elbows on his desk, his head falling into his hands as he rubs his face over and over in frustration.

“Jeon, tell me what the fuck happened?  Why are you wearing dresses?  Why The Rogue?  And why the hell where you both arrested for solicitation?”  Chief Kim questions his youngest detective, wondering if his previous precinct had sent him over to his precinct as a joke.

“We were under cover and things got dicey,” Jeon starts, making Min nod in agreement next to him.

“We went to find Choi, and we got a tip saying he operated out of The Rogue but the only way to see him was if we dressed like we wanted to work for him... which explains the dresses,” Jeon motions to his sparkling dress with a shy smile before cowering under Chief Kim’s glowering face.

“The solicitation charge?  Which of you idiots did that?” Chief Kim sighs, leaning back into his chair.  He can feel his blood pressure spiking and he knows damn well he needs to get rid of these two detectives to have his stress reduced.

“That was my fault, Chief.  I was talking to one of Choi’s guards and when the police came in to do their raid, they assumed that’s what I was doing,” Min mumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Why do you two always do this?  I’ve tried putting you with different partners, different assignments, even loaned you out to other precincts and you can’t get your act together?  How did you make it this far?”  Chief Kim is exasperated, fueled with anger, but he knows slamming his fist on his desk can only do so much for him.

“Please, don’t fire Min.  His entire life is depending on this job,” Jeon pleads for his partner, surprising him and Chief Kim.

“Is that so?”

“Please, you can fire me if you want, but not Detective Min,” Jeon pleads again, his eyes widening to look more fragile and innocent.  When Chief Kim gives a dejected sigh, Jeon knows he’s won.

“Min, you’re suspended for two weeks with pay.  Go now.  Jeon, we need to talk,” Chief Kim states, waving Min out of the room.

Min hesitates, looking at his partner before Jeon sends him a weak smile.  Min bites his lip, not knowing what to say or do before he’s out the door.

Once the door closes shut, Chief Kim looks at Jeon in disappointment.  He had thought he would go far in the department, but now he knew there was no hope for him.

“I’ve given you so many chances, Jeon.  Tell me why I shouldn’t send you out on your ass right now?”  Chief Kim demands while Jeon just stares back apathetically. He didn’t have a reason.

A knock on the door interrupts the two men, Chief Kim’s eyes turning to the door as he hollers out a ‘yes?’

“Chief Han from the Royal precinct is here to see you.  He claims it’s urgent,” An officer states poking his head in and out after they relay the message.  Chief Kim’s dark, furious eyes land on Jeon, “this isn’t over yet.”

Jeon swallows harshly, knowing he’s in deep now.  He straightens out his dress, tugging on the hem to bring it down lower on his thighs.  A second later the door opens and Chief Han walks in, looking at Jeon and chuckling.  

“I see he’s still here.  Good,” Chief Han states looking at Chief Kim before shutting the door after him and sitting on the empty chair beside Jeon.  

“What can I help you with, Han?” Namjoon turns his attention to the man who had released his subordinates to him earlier that evening. 

“Need a favor is all; an eye for an eye, so to speak,” Chief Han smiles widely, his eyes meeting Namjoon’s. 

“What kind of favor?  Must be important if you made it all the way here,” Namjoon’s voice is clipped, knowing better than to be too trusting of the man before him.

“I’ve got a case I’d like to pass on is all,” Chief Han shrugs, placing a thick folder onto the desk and sliding it to Namjoon.  Namjoon takes it, eyeing it suspiciously as he looks through its content. 

“Why do you want to pass this on?” Namjoon asks, Jeon remains silent in his seat knowing it’s better to keep quiet than open his mouth and get into even deeper trouble.  

“My officers and detectives refuse to watch the brat.  I’ve had several threaten to leave the force over her.  I can’t run a department with no officers,” Chief Han says sullenly, feeling mortified at having to admit that. 

“What makes you think my officers will do better?”

“I don’t think they’ll do better, but you do owe me a favor... over the lady here,” Chief Han smirks, pointing his thumb at Jeon’s burning red face. 

Chief Kim groans in frustration. Of course, Jeon and Min would add another problem to this eventful night.  

“I’ll call you with the details,” Chief Kim tells Chief Han, who stands from his seat and walks towards the door, his hand on the doorknob. 

“Don’t, she’s your case now. Have fun!”  With that said, Chief Han cackles as he leaves the office, the room growing with tension as Namjoon looks back at Jeon. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t just fire you and end this for us both?  Do you see what problems you cause?  The only thing you have going for you is your loyalty, Jeon.  What am I going to do with you?”  Jeon listens as his Chief talks, but all he can focus on is the folder on the desk. 

“Let me do the case,” Jeon speaks, baffling his superior officer. 

“What?”

“Let me do the case,” Jeon says again, more firmly than before.  

“Why would I let you do that?  Didn’t you hear what Chief Han said?  Are you that dumb?”  Jeon takes Namjoon’s talking down, but he’s determined to prove his worth. 

“I can do it, let me. Keep your more competent detectives here and send me out.”

Chief Kim takes a moment to consider it, weighing out the pros and cons.  He’d be able to keep his best detectives on the force while getting Jeon out of his hair for a while.  

“You don’t even know the case, you’ll need to be debriefed,”. Chief Kim says trying to give Jeon an out, but he just nods in understanding.

“Okay then, get out of my sight. Take the folder with you and I’ll get you debriefed in the morning. I don’t want to see you in that ugly dress in my office again,” Chief Kim scoffs looking at the ugly green dress that somehow flatters Jeon’s body, anyway. 

Jeon stands from his seat, gaining his balance on his high heels before taking the folder off his commander’s desk.  His earrings dangle side to side as he straightens up and heads to the door, knowing the whole precinct will see him walking to the locker room to change. 

He’s been humiliated enough for one day.  As his hand reaches for the doorknob, he hears Chief Kim one last time, “This is your last chance, Jeon.”

The next morning, Jeon shows up at the precinct, his heart sinking when he walks past Min’s empty desk on the way to Chief Kim’s office.  With a hesitant knock on the door, Jeon lets himself into his chief’s office, greeting him as he takes a seat.  

The previous night he had gone over the contents of the folder he had taken home.  Most of it was information about the daughter of a retired police chief named Y/n.  She was a junior at the local university, majoring in education with a minor in psychology.  Jungkook didn’t understand why she needed a bodyguard in the first place, but he was assuming the debriefing would fill in the rest of the details. 

“Nice of you to join us,” Chief Kim gets detective Jeon as he apologizes for being a minute late.  Chief Kim is itching to fire him on the spot, but he resists the urge as he allows his subordinate to take over.   The projector displays a slideshow for detective Jeon, showing him a picture of his assignment.  He is to go undercover as her bodyguard to keep her safe, but also to gather information on her father.  

“Isn’t her father Chief Y/L/N?  Why do we need to gather information on him?”  Jeon asks confused as his hand continues to move across his yellow notepad.  Chief Kim sighs heavily, a large hand running through his hair as he looks at Jungkook. 

“We need to find out whom is after his daughter and why.  There’s no reason for her to have a member of the police force as her bodyguard unless there’s something sketchy going on.  The files indicate nothing more than information on her and to be honest, all this information could be found on her social media making it useless.  I’m counting on you to solve this or you’re off the force for good.  Am I understood, Jeon?”

“Clearly,” Jungkook mumbles as he rises from his seat, taking his notebook with him as he leaves the office to go down the hall to meet his undercover unit.  

“Nice to see you again, Jeon,” he’s greeted by the man in charge, none other than Park Jimin.  

“I thought you transferred to another district?”  Jeon questions as he takes a seat on the spare desk chair, rolling it over to Jimin’s side to look at the laptop that sat on his desk. 

“No, I tried though, but it didn’t work out.  Let’s talk about your case.  The danger level seems rather low, but with these things you can never be too sure.  We’ll be sending another officer in with you to pose as your dorm mate for backup,” Jungkook nods, wondering who will get chosen as his backup. 

“You will report to me to ensure your safety.  I will give you an alias along with a school schedule mirroring Y/n’s.  We want you to befriend her to keep her close, but she knows how to weed out her bodyguards, which is why we are trying this alternative approach.  If you need to disclose your true identity, do so only if it is your last resort.  Let’s try to go about this mission with everyone unharmed,” Jimin explains as he types something on the laptop before the printer next to his desk pops out a simple white sheet with the name of the university on the header.  Jungkook looks over his schedule, not enthused to be going back to college, but he knows it beats standing at the unemployment line. 

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

[franeridart]

Anon said: How do you feel about KamiShin?

It’s one of my main two kaminari ships atm and my only shinsou ship! so I’d say I like it a lot haha

Anon said: i just wanna say ive been following you for a while now, not sure how long so i dont wanna lie but! your art keeps improving more and more and i'm proud of you ok? ok goodnight

Oh my god thank you so much!!! TT^TT that really means a lot to me, both that you see improvement in my style and that you’ve been around long enough to notice!! <3<3

Anon said: since it's October it got me thinking about when you drew vampire kirishima and werewolf bakugou which I absolutely adored!! would you consider drawing more of them?

That’s!!!! actually a good idea, I had totally forgotten about that AU!!! I might get back on it before the month if I find a good idea for it!!

Anon said: Plz tell me we'll see some more bakukirikami soon, I love ur artz so much and my ot3 is so underappreciated...I mean whenever ur not busy of course

Probably not anon, sorry :( right now my focus for kaminari’s romantic life is on different characters, sadly ;; I don’t exclude I might get back on the ot3 with krbk in the future, but most probably not soon ;;;

Anon said: The scars comic is so fuckin good 😭😭

Thank you SO MUCH I’m super glad you liked it!!! <3

Anon said: i can't believe you drew the bakusquad but didn't add ......................... that one nameless old lady hawks helped at some point like?? how dare you?? she's part of the squad obv?? so if you draw the squad you MUST draw all of them! like?? what the fuck??

man I was honestly expecting someone to mention something like this under the last two bakusquad pieces, ngl

Anon said: tetsutetsu is crying in a corner bc no one remembered it’s his birthday too

It’s okay anon, I’m sure whatever you did to celebrate his birthday was more than enough for him!

Anon said: ITS BEST BOI DAY!!!!!! KIRISHIMA CAN CARCH THESE HANDS GIVING HIM A HUG CUZ HE DESERVES IT.

HE SURE AS HECK DOES!!!!

Anon said: Can Denki x Shinsou be called ThunderCats??

You can call it however you want, anon!! who’s gonna stop you, anyway hahaha

Anon said: I’M LATE! I almost didn’t send in an “ask” (read: appreciation ask) this week! Your blog makes me feel safe, and your art style is beautiful!

THANK YOU!!!!!!! SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!! <3<3<3<3<3

Anon said: Hey do you have a tag for your au with Baks scarlet witch kid?

Pretty sure it’s tagged as “oc: akane” ! :D

Anon said: Do you have any more idea or headcanons about the teacher Bakugou au?

Not really? I wrote all of it in that one post and then I didn’t really think much about it anymore after, honestly h a h sorry orz my focus isn’t the best, sadly

Anon said: im so sorry that youre not feeling great rn :( pls keep making gifts for yourself and treat yourself to some self-care !! we love you and your art.. honestly i could spend an entire day just going through it all because it makes me so happy. thank you for bringing so much joy into our lives.. i hope that whatever it is getting you down, it is nothing compared to the rainbow thats on the way after the storm :) *throws blankets, snacks, and your fav drinks at you* hang in there!!!

Ahhhh anon you’re way too nice to me!!! Thank you so so much!!!! it was physical health problems, actually, but I’m feeling all better now!! So thank you so much for your care and well wishes, they definitely helped a lot T^T <3<3

[mitcheemarns]

83. “If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.” (boeser and pettersson) kinda has a pissed brock defending petey vibe lol

disclaimer: this is a scarlet letter au! because im stupid! and i have no ideas or originality! 

in this universe, people are very homophobic and it is outrightly viewed as a sin. there are no specifics in which there are derogatory terms used. however, there is a confrontational scene where homophobia leads to violence. (the violence is just swearing, but there are no derogatory terms used such as the f word.)

im sorry. but have the scarlet letter au :)

Elias is new to New England. He cannot deny that. The colony is chafing and restrictive, nothing like the wondrous sanctuary that his mother and father once thought it was supposed to be. The climate is harsh, probably not as harsh as Sweden, and the people are stifling. The land and surrounding vegetation are telling of the colony’s future, with its powdery and infertile soil and a multitude of weeds sprung up throughout the area. It will be bleak and miserable. It was nothing like what his parents intended. 

At first, New England seemed to be an adventure worth living to experience. The settlers had convinced his family with bold fantasies of a life away from claustrophobic Europe to a place where a new community was to be made; a new religion, a new society, a new start. His parents had believed it, and so had he. 

The journey there had been rough; the toiling ocean had been an angry god. The waves had crashed upon their ship ceaselessly, ramming upon the oaken wood with the harsh force of a thousand bulls. They had lost a large portion of their people—their, Elias laughs to himself, he cannot believe he thinks he is a part of this colony—, including his parents and his brother. 

Elias was no stranger to death. It seemed to follow him like an evil fiend, one that was ready to take from him everything except his own life. 

But even after his family’s passing, he thinks he would have been able to push on and make a living for himself. Yes, he definitely could have lived in this New England society, if only it were not for the mindset of the people. If only he had not journeyed with this specific group of people. If only…

_________

“This boy! This—this wretched wisp of a sinner! How dare he trample upon our consecrated soil that we have just come to bless with our settlement?” a woman exclaimed haughtily, standing near the makeshift scaffold. Her face was wrinkled in an unattractive manner, the shadows draping across the creases in her skin and creating harsh concavity to her visage. 

“And with another man!” another woman gasped, her eyes filled with anger and fear. 

“Now, now, he wasn’t ever part of our community. Remember, he came to us with his parents from Sweden. We can all discern what type of people are born and bred in those areas.” The woman who made this comment seemed to be wiser, yet her wisdom seemed to strangle its receivers rather than placate and inspire them. 

“The nerve for him not to reveal the identity of the other sinner. He should be thankful that the punishment wasn’t dictated to be harsher,” one of the older women huffed, still managing to maintain an air of dignity about her despite the repulsion she felt.

“Hush, ladies! Are we not women of proper breeding and state? We shouldn’t bow down to the boy’s level and consecrate ourselves. Look! Here he comes!” The young woman who spoke pointed her finger at the prison door, which had been pushed open to make way for the young man. She held her child in her arms as the group of spectators diverted their piercing gaze to the iron door.

The young man walked out with disdain in his footsteps. His gaze was cool and sharp, surveying the rest of the community with ice in his light, blue eyes. He was tall and lanky in a way that introduced a sense of elegance to the people who laid eyes on his figure. It could be seen that he came from a line of high standing, not necessarily in royalty but certainly in human nature. 

“He thinks he’s better than us!” the first woman shrieked again, holding an affronted hand to her chest. 

The young man, having climbed up the stairs to the scaffold just then, turned his long neck and stared into the eyes of the woman who had shrieked the statement aloud. His gaze instilled fear into the woman’s heart; a type of fear that seemed to pierce all the way into the marrow of her bones. She averted his gaze, instead focusing on the black letter S that had been inked into the centre of his chest. 

The young man’s gaze followed the woman’s down to the mark marring his skin. The action seemed to shake the man up, as he clenched his jaw and whipped his head away from the group of women, leaving the first woman to smirk inwardly. 

Elias seemed to have no place in this godforsaken community.

_________

When Elias is rid of the stupid criminal sentence that the community forces him to endure, he moves to a cabin near the sea. It’s a nice, cozy place close enough to hear the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs. Most days, the seagulls cry out and keep Elias company. It’s pretty lonely, but at least it’s a place where he doesn’t have to suffer under the scrutiny of the community.

In Sweden, he had aspired to be an artist, because he was the second child and his family were supportive. But here, in this small, close-minded society, there was no place for frivolous pleasures like art. So, Elias sets out to find a job that maybe he’ll be able to hold for a while so he doesn’t starve and die. 

He ends up working as a carpenter under a man named “Bo”. Bo is his saviour. Bo doesn’t mind Elias’s sin or the letter upon his clavicle or the fact that he slept with a man. Bo helps Elias when he struggles, often sending him home with extra food that would have gone bad if Elias hadn’t taken it or giving him an advancement on his pay because Bo just “felt like it”. Not to mention that Bo lets him paint on the walls, when they work on a religious or decorative building, sometimes instead of calling for another specialized worker.

Elias thinks he might’ve fallen in love with Bo if he hadn’t met Him.

Elias thinks he might’ve left New England if it wasn’t for Him. Or else, why would he take the shitty ostracizing from the community?

_________

“Come ‘ere fellas, look who we have here,” a man calls out, “the sinner himself. In the flesh.”

Elias groans inwardly and glares, huddling into himself. 

“It’s him, huh? Didn’t your mom teach you to stay clear from unsafe places? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have one anymore,” the second man laughs, his features twisted from the malicious smile on his face. 

Elias grits his teeth and clenches his fists. To a spectator, it only seems that Elias’s glare has become a touch deadlier. “Time for some new jokes. They are not funny.”

The first man has the audacity to laugh, further tormenting Elias. “You wanna go, foreign boy? What a shitty accent, don’t you think?” He nudges his partner. 

“Oh yeah, just hearing it pisses me off.” 

The first man smirks. “Took the words right outta my mouth! Think we gotta dispel our anger somehow, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” the second man chuckles darkly. 

They stalk toward Elias with malice, fists balled up and muscles bulging in their arms. Elias backs away, sweat beading from his hairline. He doesn’t want to seem like a coward, but there is no way he can take one of these guys, let alone two. 

There’s a rush of adrenaline in Elias’s veins. He’s about to run.

Another pair of footsteps thud across the soiled ground. The two men turn their heads toward the unknown personage. 

“Brock!” the second man exclaims happily. “Glad you’re here. I thought it was someone else and it scared the shit out of me.”

Brock stops, his eyes surveying the situation. He freezes entirely when his gaze catches sight of Elias, his body still tense and prepared to flee. Brock’s eyes soften just a little before his mask is put on again. 

“Yeah. What are you two doing?” he asks.

“Nothing much, just teaching the sinner a lesson. You wanna join?” the first man laughs. 

A brief flash moves across Brock’s eyes. The two men wouldn’t be able to catch it, but Elias it does. The emotion brings more fear to Elias than the two men do. Elias shakes his head vehemently at Brock, pleading him silently. 

Brock smirks back at Elias, making Elias’s heart thump, before shaking his head slightly to placate him. Don’t worry. It’s time I do this.

“Why are you guys bothering him, though? Pretty fucking dumb if you ask me,” Brock scoffs, crossing his arms. 

The expressions on the two men’s faces change from surprise to confusion to anger. 

“You calling us dumb?” the second man speaks up.

“You better not be starting shit, Boeser. Your dad won’t get you out of trouble all the time, you little bitch,” the first man sneers. 

The muscles in Brock’s arms bulge through his clothing. “You think I need my dad to get me out of trouble? Fucking idiots. If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.”

Elias can only watch in horror as the two men swing their fists in Brock’s direction.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Between the pages | 03

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, smut, Werewolf AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: alpha!Namjoon x human!Reader

Warning: Mention of knotting/mating, a conflicted angry Joon.

Summary: Sometimes we find by sheer luck what we lost between the pages. The retrieval, however, is not always as fortunate.

Previous part / Masterlist / part 4 (yet to be written)

Inhibition has come to form a steady aspect of a life full of oppression, whether it be in the form of thoughts about a dearly missed loved one or unspoken words about an inevitable event. All are elements of the mental cage a fortunate woman was distanced from just in time, the second drowsy murmurs started to transform into murring, the disguise of the thing within regardlessly hoping happiness could be found somewhere far out of its reach.

Just in time to remain blind to the monster.

Be safe from the unconscious influence of nature always triggered first by a splendid persevering brother who also falls into bestial primitivity once a month howbeit in a much more controlled fashion than the youngest shame of the bloodline.

From a murderous lustful renegade.

And that same silver perpetrator now stares out over the calmly flowing river mirroring the rays of the sun on a rare bright day, zoning out to the occasional sharp sparkle that distracts all focus from the boiling bad temper and painful stings in the nether region which will only worsen once the monthly “season” starts anew. Is lost in the scent of inked pages that were once read together after class and on dates that seem so long ago if not part of one of the many surrounding tales, completely ignoring the psychiatric alpha earning some money on the side as a barista as broad shoulders are shook with an urgent request for a shift in attention.

‘Namjoon! Have you been listening at all?’ A mirthless though relieved grimace forms on the elder brown wolf’s long handsome face when hazy eyes revert from agitated crimson to espresso, regaining a sense of reality as gazes lock while absent fingers continue to fidget with the iron necklace from which a platinum wedding band dangles. The ring that will never bond with moonstone. ‘Of course, you haven’t. Look, Monie, I know you’re thinking of her as per usual when you stand here instead of actually running the store and can smell on you that your rut is going to start soon, but even so, we really need to talk.’

There is no energy to wage a verbal war despite the anger of the creature within, eager to lash out with claws at being provoked while the man forming its host manages to sedate it at the cost of increased exhaustion but a triumph of civilization. However, before starting on the inevitable topic, a habitual question is asked regardless of the never-changing negative reply to it. ‘Any word of Tae?’

‘You know how it goes, nothing. No new trails nor news. He’s out there somewhere doing fine, I’m sure. We have to hope so.’ An encouraging squeeze in a broad shoulder clad in an earthly colourful loose Mexican-style poncho consoles the melancholic hate-stained thought about the cousin turned away by the family simply for being an omega. A mere boy who was kicked out by parents who were supposed to love their only son unconditionally but easily discarded the blonde boy upon finding out amber would never turn into ruby. It is because of them Tae Tae ran away and vanished without a trace, could be dead for all that is known since childish naivety can become the cause for fatal errors.

Where are you? Please be alright. Please be okay wherever you are, buddy. You were the only other one who actually understood what it is like to be different. To be an outcast.

There is not much time to contemplate the loss of the relative with the odd square smile who was taught reading by a kid who would grow up to be a black-hearted killer, because Hoseok already moves on to the next sensitive topic of debate. ‘Joon, I went to the hospital recently and-’

‘I changed Jungkook, I know. Heard the story over breakfast thanks to Jin.’ Full lips pull back into a snarl, baring stark white teeth with a low self-loathing growl at the thought of having ruined the life of the shy cherry red-haired boy working as a waiter in the restaurant run by the head of the river territory who has strangely always idolized a mere beastly bookseller. Pulled strength from his words when dropping by to ask for tutoring for the seemingly hopeless exams of the high school he just graduated from. Kept doing so because he wanted to make his girlfriend, a really nice girl who is a few years older than him and is in the second year of the study of the mind, proud. But the mentor let the apprentice down in the most terrible of ways possible. ‘I’m a monster, a hazard, a fucking disgrace. I should be put down.’

Bony fingers now enclose both upper arms, demanding a revision of the statement out of fear for the asylum that would rightfully put an end to an endless war. ‘Don’t say that. We’ll think of something, do a bit more research to strengthen your medication. Jungkook’s girlfriend asked me to provide him with therapy so I’ll make sure he’ll go through the changing process as flawlessly as possible and keep you out of sight of The Council.’ The anxiety increases further at seeing the disbelief in an attitude knowing very well there is only so long one can run for justice, for a sane mind to remain separated from the abomination which grows more visceral by the day, for help to actually provide a solution. ‘Please say you don’t have the gun anymore.’

Until, one day, only a bullet helps.

’Joon, say you don’t. That’s not what Y/N would want for you.’ Something is off about the scent of amiable panicked irises, weird in the worried tone of speech. ‘She would support you and find a way. Help us find a way to do something about being a Renegade. Think of her, Monie. Of the ring. She’s out there somewhere and you will get married one day. And what of your brother, of Seokjin? He basically raised you on his back. And what of me? I can’t run this place on my own because I don’t know the summary of every book on the shelves. We’ll find a way and put this situation to rest properly.’

Flowers, but one sort in particular.

Tulips in summer.

‘How can you say that when her perfume is on you?’ The deformed mouth now clearly shows sharp canines, a mad frenzy ignited by smelling the wife who had to be saved from a monster on the other alpha cloaking vision in a scarlet haze as fingers mould into fists, nails digging into the palms to have a weak link to sanity.

But to no avail.

The tables turn, one hand distorted with rage grabbing the collar of a neatly ironed alabaster shirt and pulling the stunned earth-toned wolf with thin-rimmed glasses closer so that every growled word can be heard crystal clear in the air filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and her. ‘Answer me, goddammit. Why is my wife’s perfume on you? Did you fuck her, hm? Given her pups while you know she’s mine?’

The tinkling of the bell at the front door goes accompanied by a fresh alluring wave of the characteristic reminiscent scent also present on a lying bastard, distracting the mind just enough with alluring calming flashbacks to times gone by for Hoseok to once more turn the tide when a small step is set in the direction of temptation.

Y/N. She... she’s here. She finally came back to me, to her alpha.

The hold on the neatly ironed fabric is rapidly broken off by meticulously prying digits loose and turning the formerly offending arm on the spine after flipping a powerful wolf only now stupidly aware of the sudden attack, each endeavour to break free nullified with every ounce of available strength maintaining the locked position against the window behind the counter.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ A protesting wriggle proves as futile as the enemy’s had before, solely resulting in another grunt from the barely older colleague clearly thinking above his status. ‘Let me go!’

‘And let you walk up to her like this? You’re almost suffocating me monthly with pheromones so imagine what it would do to her.’ The unconsciously emitted hormones strengthen the chances of finding a proper omega partner to see the rut with through, intensifying every emotion and touch with the trance-like state it induces in both the lover and the mate. Although not everyone always appreciates the enhanced scents for to some they are unappealing, to put it politely. Regardless, due to the prohibition of werewolf-human relationships, very little is known of what it does to a person without the magnificent power of old but considering their obvious lesser strength, it is likely they shall submit earlier than the average she-wolf. Other effects remain in the undiscovered field of myth and legend.  

‘She’s my wife!’ The view changes from the bright clear spring river to wood supporting stacks of newly arrived books that have yet to be categorized and priced, pinned down on the counter by the cursed mongrel bearing the scent of the gorgeous lady already bound to an alpha from a proud ancient line yet tried to be claimed by another.

‘And she is human.’ The unimportant fact is growled through gritted teeth. Just another supposedly good reason to not meet the woman who should have become the mother of my pups a long time ago, when the force within awakened for the first time after a date in the lush green park nearby the shining river. She would have looked lovely on all fours underneath the long fingers of the willow tree at the waterside of the central pond, flowy dress imprinted with summer cherries hiked up enough to allow her alpha, me, to pump her full while wrists were pinned to the soft young grass.

The heat within worsens at the imagery as the rut painfully signals with restrained by denim twitches that the incredible fantasy can still be lived if only the current situation can be escaped and Y/N retrieved before going somewhere private. Although, with the sensual cravings coming more and more to a boiling point on the brink of an uncontrollable explosion, it is likelier the beautiful woman who was idiotically left behind will first be knotted on the ground.

Floral footsteps head towards the literary section in the back of the shop, removing themselves from a loving husband. Never again will the same mistake be made, that small hand let go of. It shall only be so when having to take over the task of carrying our son or daughter or both around.

Only then.

‘So what? I’m not allowed to even greet her? She’s not yours, bastard. She’s mine. My mate.’ Claws already begin to form where wrists are held captive, canines tangibly pressing against the tongue having greater difficulty with each encompassing second spend in rage, mere moments away from starting a fight as glorious wolves and putting the offender back in place.

If alive at all.

First, an easy battle since the strength of the opponent will be weakened by trying to act above social standing and then, at last, can true lovers be united and form a family. A pack.

I’ll mate her, right there against the poetry bookshelves. We’ll be together, baby. I promised you we’d be.

‘Joon, listen to me.’ A short lifting and harsh downfall onto the wood once more make a furious ruby stare shift attention from hidden loveliness to irritating commands supposedly made with reason. Made by a traitor laying claim to the mistress of another. ‘Listen. To. Me. I know this isn’t you talking, it’s the wolf on his rut, and you’re actually somewhere in there.’

‘Stop the bullshit. This is me. I’m here.’ Nothing but a true person, the rightful second-in-line for the position of the heir of the Kim family and leadership of the river district, is being held down.

Nothing but a man merely wanting to see his estranged spouse.

‘No, you’re not. Namjoon, normally you’re capable of suppressing the symptoms better. I know you can do it, so come back. Snap out of it! Y/N can’t know what you are and you want to keep it that way, emphasizing this by living unmated while still worrying about her. Remember how you’ve tried thus far, successfully, to keep her away from wolf society. Think about the rings.’ Hoseok’s voice lowers to a more peaceful version of itself at noticing the relaxation of tensed shoulders, the ceasing of endless barely containable struggles, the growling fading away into pained whimpers. ‘Your vows, think about them.’

I swore, dammit, what did I swear again? What does it matter? This is who, not who I am. It matters. Fuck, I need to recall. Right, to protect you against them. Against the thing inside even if it meant I’d never see you again. That, someday, I’d be a better man, fit to be your husband. Yours, in every aspect.

Scarlet fades away into deep earthly brown like the forest floor after a twilight filled with rainfall, the shade of the espressos drunk on book dates in this very realm of inked tales bound in a sea of colourful named spines. Razor sharp canines retreat in the gums, replaced by their human counterparts as fatal claws do the same but in the flesh of calloused hands. Speech is restored to baritone coherency, no animalistic trace left behind. ‘Hope, I- what I just- I didn’t mean anything of what I just said. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth after all the times I’ve acted like this.’ The gaze of the personification of the support pillar of the common sense that gets lost too often in the mind of the beast is sought, finding consenting comfort in it as the tight suppressing hold is lifted. ‘I really am.’

‘I know and, besides, you’re very unoriginal with your insults so I tend to ignore them anyway.’ As a way of making up for the rough treatment, clothes are righted by long tanned bony fingers, straightening out the creases and other signs of struggle while also clearly being aware of the boiling heat emanating from the skin underneath the fabric.

When they are finished with polishing, arms are crossed as a long face nods in the direction of the small back room functioning as a wardrobe and storage for new arrivals, back-up copies and second-hand novels which have yet to be sorted onto the shelves. ‘Wait there until she is gone. I don’t know, read a book or something, but whatever you do, try to stay in control. I have some of your medication in my bag, in the front pocket. It won’t really help, but it’ll suppress the symptoms for a while. Once she’s gone, you’re going home and I’ll manage the shop for the rest of the day. Should be easy enough, considering the stream of customers is... well, small.’

Tempting summer tulips are spread by innocent unmated fingers wandered to the fiction section where they are now leaving through a roman, conjuring up the earlier determination seducing the mind to give up sense in favour of true love.

So close, just a few steps away.

The heat encourages bridging the distance, rush to beloved lips that have never been forgotten, let temporary reason fade away into contact. Precisely like the voice falling away into absent-minded dreaming. ‘I’m... I’m just going to say hello.’

A firm hand on the richly decorated fabric of the suffocating cardigan makes the unconscious step forward undone, endeavouring to guide a stony resisting silver wolf to loathsome confinement again. ‘Joon, don’t.’

A pathetic whimper falls from full lips, partially out of the enhanced longing for the moonstone lady and in part due to the continuous stream of sharp stings of pain in the region below. ‘Please, let me see her. I’ll behave, I promise.’

‘I can’t let you do that, Monie.’

‘I can control it. Please, I need to see her.’ Shortly, focus briefly shifts to the light brown eyes of the caretaker of the contained yet mighty dominant creature below the surface wanting to be like any guy on the street. ‘Look at me. See? No crimson eyes. I can do this, Hoseok.’

The wolf wants Y/N too. It won’t hurt her nor will I. What am I saying? I am the wolf and she is safe with me.

A negative shake of brown locks lighting up bronze in the sunlight falling in through the window makes teeth grit because of apparently not being convincing enough despite having proven to not be a risk. And if the gesture did not stress this, the stern tone upon speaking does. ‘You just proved you can’t, Namjoon. Do what I just told you to. Wait in the storage room and take the pills. If you don’t, you’ll be a danger to us all and you know that. Do the right thing. I don’t want to see you disappear into the asylum.’

I won’t. I’m fine, normal. In perfect control.

‘But it’s Y/N, my wife, my mate...’

‘I know, but you can’t approach her like this. At least we know she’s back in town so I’ll ask around and see what the district leaders have to say, find out where she has settled so you can meet privately when the rut has passed.’ Another attempt at going towards reminiscent flowers moved to the thriller section is halted, this time to much annoyance which is answered with a laborious though resigned sigh. ‘Stop it. Deep within you also know you can’t.’

Sharp predatory canines.

Bloodthirsty ruby.

Burning unconvincing hatred.

‘I can! Have got any fucking idea how much it hurts, huh? Know what it’s like to be unmated and going through Hell each month while your brother is nauseatingly happy with his girlfriend, able to knot his mate, continue the bloodline?’ At this point, the political consequences are the least of worries compared to those attached to walking away once more, thus making the same idiotic mistake as five years ago. However, it goes beyond having a reunion as well since this is also about showing that the second ashen-haired heir is not as much of a disgrace to the family as they have made him feel. Can be the father to the strong alpha pups of the next generation, who shall be even better than their parents.

‘Yes, I do because I experienced it once as well, though it sometimes still feels like it.’ Lashes lower in the belated realization that both alphas have a partner which is not approved of, nullifying the argument given earlier that contact between a crazed wolf and human cannot happen due to well-known apparent risks connected to it. Although, how can something that brings pleasure and relief from sensual pain have any other outcome, have repercussions when it only ensures the continuation of the dynasty? ‘Jimin can’t keep up with me already as is and I’m not part of an ancient pack. However, that does not mean my experience can’t form somewhat of a warning.’

The detail of familiar perfume on the bisexual alpha’s skin was almost forgotten yet freshly remembered thanks to the topic of debate. ‘You haven’t answered the question about how my wife’s scent ended up on your skin, said whether or not you fucked her.’

‘Of course, I haven’t because I’m a good friend and have been serving the Kim family loyally. It’s a curious thing I keep forgiving you for the amount of bullshit you can spout when you’re like this.’

The provoked fist lashing out is easily avoided, a slender palm wrapping around the forearm as quick as hunting paws and forcing a silver awesome creature into the unwavering locking position with a cheek against the counter again. ‘Listen for a second.’

A disagreeing growl owns a choked grunt at an attempt to maintain the current position while dearly missed footsteps return to the poetry section, come closer. The brown-haired mongrel seems to notice the tracking, resulting in an enforced surprisingly strong grip. ‘Listen to me. Joon! Listen. To. Me. A new bakery has opened in town and I go there each morning for a cup of coffee before coming here. Luck would have it that Y/N is the owner of the place and present to help the employees out wherever possible. We’ve been negotiating a collaboration between the shop and bakery for a few days now, merely talking about assortment and delivery schedules. That’s the reason. I wouldn’t lie to you. Happy now?’

A difficult look over the shoulder wants to see the lie behind the words, a reason to deal with the fake comrade that will leave him shunned and forgotten in the hierarchy, but all scarlet eyes regard is honest truth pleading for a sliver of sane conscious floating beneath the surface of the split personality to recognize it.

Which the resurfaced humanity does when the normally sunny long-time companion continues when remarking upon a repercussion that was discussed earlier at the breakfast table. ‘If this keeps happening it will only be a matter of time before the Council finds out about your state and send you to the asylum. Think about Seokjin, about me, about her. You will never see any of us again if you don’t fight for control.’

‘I- I know and I try. But, I can’t think clearly.’ Teeth grit themselves at another spurt of scorching warmth shooting throughout, worsening the capability of returning from mindless animalistic behaviour, deteriorating reason with every passing second. ‘Hobi, it hurts...’

Need to mate, need to fuck. Where did the tulips go? They’re still poetic. My beautiful bitch needs her alpha. No, can’t think this way. I’d break Y/N, can’t love her right when the thing inside craves her too.

‘I know, Joon, I know.’ All former caution fades from Hoseok’s attitude, replaced by the persevering calm that tries to be maintained during chaotic moments like these. ‘I’m gonna let go now, okay? I trust you to do the right thing.’

The paralyzing hold unravels, palms placed on the counter offering support while getting up to roll shoulders back before sullenly wandering to the storage room, a hand sheepishly correcting ashen locks grown haphazard in the struggles for liberty that must never be given to the oppressed thing roaming inside. Withal, feet only curtly stop in the crack of the door to gaze in the direction from which familiar eyes surprisingly look back yet are too rapidly turned away from, the door closed too soon, to instigate any sense of recognition.

We can’t be together. Not now, in any case. Someday I won’t have to walk away anymore, someday we can finally get married and I get to kiss you good morning and goodnight. Someday a place of our own will be filled with childish laughter and little paws. Until then, I’m sorry, baby.

The dusty fragrance of pages inscribed with tales of the fantastical, some of which have always been believed to merely be the conjurations of fancy though the underground society would beg to differ, makes a wild heart slow down. Clears sense enough to search the bright cherry red backpack which has “Hope” written in colourful letters on the front pocket and is tucked against a stack of new publications for the wolfsbane medicine.

Two small stark white pills containing a sedating poison for the abomination induce the same brief haze they always do, giving the split mind the breathtaking room it needs to function properly as a human, be like any other man out there.

Simply be allowed to play the role of the bookseller by the river.

Wallowing in the scent of a forgotten summer behind a firmly closed locked door.

Nonetheless, memories tend to resurface.

And this particular one comes too close.

[redgillan]

Guess Who? - part 3

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Based on Clue. You are invited to a strange house where you have to cooperate with the staff to solve the murder of one of the guests.

Word Count:1,800

Warnings: Language, Blood, Death

A/N: It’s a freaking massacre.

Guess Who? - Masterpage

Mr. Lang came rushing down the stairs, followed by Mrs. Black, Captain America and your husband, also known as Mr. Winter. Lang skidded to a stop and bumped into you. You, Professor Iron, Doctor Green and Miss Scarlet were still frozen in place.

The doorbell rang again as Maria and Falcon came back from the cellar.

“Aren’t you going to answer the door?” Falcon asked.

Lang turned to him. “Need I remind you that there’s a dead body in the study?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“Stay calm and act normal!”

Lang smoothed his suit jacket and walked up to the front door. He held his breath and yanked the door open. The stranger recoiled a bit when he saw Lang’s nervous smile.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“My car broke down out there. Can I use your phone?”

“Of course.” He let him into the house. “There’s a phone in the study-”

“NO!” you all shouted in unison.

“-but the study is a mess. I think there’s a phone in the library,” Lang quickly said as he led the stranger to the room.

He walked past the group and you all tried to smile at him. Although, judging by the look on his face, you’d only managed to scare him. The stranger closed the door slowly while giving the group a suspicious glare.

Once he had closed the door, Mrs. Black slapped Lang’s shoulder as hard as she could.

“You let him in? There’s a dead body in the house!” she whispered crossly, hoping to intimidate him.

“I think he’s onto something!” Green gasped. “We’re all going to jail!”

“Relax. Let’s not draw attention to ourselves. He’s going to call a tow truck and leave. He would have found it odd if we had refused to let him in. Trust me, it’s the safest thing to do.”

“Not so sure about that,” you mumbled.

“Dazzle’s right,” Scarlet chimed in. “He’s going to have to wait for that tow truck and then the mechanic will show up. They’ll read about us in the papers and then they’ll go to the police. He saw our faces, he knows what we loo-”

She stopped talking mid-sentence and brought her hand up to her throat as if she was going to throw up. She mumbled something about not feeling well as her face scrunched up in distress.

She turned to you and your eyes grew wide as blood began to stain her lips. She coughed once, sending rivulets of blood splattering across your face.

You screamed and watched helplessly as more blood poured out of her mouth and down the front of her dress. Disoriented, she tried to ask for help, but her legs buckled and she almost fell.

Scarlet tried to grab your shoulder, but Bucky pulled you away from her. She slowly fell to the ground, her mouth and hands covered in dark sticky blood.  

Bucky had pressed you against his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. He didn’t care if it looked suspicious, he needed to make sure you were safe. Miss Scarlet laid dead at your feet, a small pool of blood forming under her mouth

“What the hell just happened?” Captain America hissed.

“Miss Scarlet fucking died in the middle of the hall!” Iron shouted, his hands shaking.

You all shushed him, which sounded like the hissing of snakes. Lang turned to face the library door. Surely the stranger would have heard you scream. He would have heard Scarlet choke on her own blood or the panicked voice of Iron.

“It’s strange,” Lang said, his eyes fixed on the door, “we’ve been screaming for the past ten minutes and he’s still in there.”

“Maybe he’s a little deaf.”

“Or a little dead,” Falcon replied.

The party tiptoed toward the library door while Bucky took you back to the study to clean your blood-stained face. You stared into space while he removed the blood with a napkin he had found on the desk.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he whispered in case someone was listening. “Do you hear me, sweetheart?”

“It was so sudden,” you replied, too stunned to process what happened. “There was so much blood, Bucky, it was so disgusting. What’s going to happen to us? Are we all going to die one by one?”

He grabbed your shoulders and made you look at him. “I won’t let that happen. No one’s gonna touch my wife, you’re safe with me, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I have a plan,” he replied. “Make sure to be in the hall, the front door isn’t locked and my car is parked out front.”

“I know I saw it earlier, but what if they try to stop us?”

“Let them try.”

Bucky showed you the gun strapped to his ankle and you gave a soft gasp before he kissed you hard. You broke the kiss when you both heard the sound of someone being dragged across the floor.

Mrs. Black looked out of breath as she dragged Scarlet’s dead body into the study. She asked for help so Bucky stood up and helped her throw Scarlet on the sofa next to Hawkeye.

Iron and the Captain followed her closely, carrying the body of the stranger. He had been bashed on the head with some blunt object.

“Yup, this guy’s dead, too! We’re gonna need a bigger room!” Iron replied, his tone sarcastic. He groaned when Captain America dropped the stranger’s body. “C’mon, Mr. Perfect Teeth! You’re the one with the big muscles. Use ‘em!”

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to it.”

“Newsflash, buddy, it’s kind of a first for me too,” Iron replied.

You heard Lang scream to Maria that the cleaning products were in the cabinet next to the cellar and not in the kitchen. Green sat down in the sofa near the painting-slash-secret passage while Falcon examined the glasses left on the bar.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you observed the man’s body. He had been killed while you were all in the hall. It was a pretty bold move and only someone who knew of the existence of the secret passage could have killed him.

As far as you knew these people were the staff, you, Iron, Green and Scarlet.

“What happened to Scarlet?” you asked no one in particular.

“She was poisoned,” Falcon answered, waving an empty glass of brandy. “Her glass smells like almond. It’s cyanide. And before you ask, there’s a smear of pink lipstick on the rim. That’s how I know it’s hers.”

“We also drank brandy,” you said, looking at Falcon and the Captain.

“I know, I remember,” Falcon replied. “Our glasses don’t smell weird. Scarlet was the target.”

Iron chuckled. “It rhymes.”

You rolled your eyes. Maria and Lang returned to the study and plopped down in the nearest seat. They both looked completely spent.

“Poor Miss Scarlett,” the Captain said. “What the hell did that woman do to deserve such a brutal end?”

“She was a member of a satanic cult,” Bucky answered. When all eyes turned to him, he grinned to himself. “I found a little piece of paper on the floor before we found the dead body.”

“The first one or the second one?” Black interrupted.

“The first one,” he replied. “It’s the list Lang mentioned earlier; the one with our pseudonyms and the crimes we’ve committed.”

The other guests tensed in their seat, but Lang didn’t seem too worried. He held Bucky’s stare, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Bucky knew this was his only chance to get out of this place. He decided to use the note against Lang. He was sure that the butler was the murderer. Iron would have appreciated the rhyme.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t picture this lovely girl in a satanic cult,” Iron commented, shaking his head.

“She was,” Bucky repeated. “And you’re a war profiteer.”

“Yes,” Iron admitted. It wasn’t something he was proud of and it felt liberating to say it out loud. “I stole essential Air Force radio parts, and I sold them on the black market. That is how I made all my money. But that does not make me a murderer!”

“It does,” the Captain protested, “a lot of our airmen died because their radios didn’t work!”

“Our airmen?” Bucky chuckled. “That’s rich, coming from a deserter.”

“Ah, Mr. Perfect Teeth isn’t a model of virtue? Honestly, I’m shocked.”

The Captain gave Iron a dirty look and returned to his seat without a word.

“Dazzle’s a bank robber, Falcon’s a crook and Green’s a mad scientist-”

“I’m not a mad scientist,” Green objected. “I created a serum that will improve the lives of soldiers. My work has helped millions of people and will continue to help in the future. But other scientists are too narrow minded. Sacrifices are necessary if we want to continue our good work.”

“You’re experimenting on unwitting patients,” Black guessed, her face twisted in disgust. “How cruel!”

“Cruel?!” Green exclaimed. “You murdered your husbands. How cruel is that?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Husbands should be like Kleenex; soft, strong and disposable.”

Bucky looked at you, silently telling you to follow his lead. He couldn’t leave the room without attracting suspicion so he needed to create a diversion.

His plan was going well, the guests were yelling at each other, but Lang saw right through his schemes.

“I know what you are, Mr. Winter,” Lang said, a sickening smile on his face. The guests stopped yelling and turned to Bucky. “He’s a bank robber, too. In fact, he’s married to Lady Dazzle.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched hard as Lang revealed his secret. He wanted to wipe that smug grin right off Lang’s face.

“I’m going to kill you,” Bucky hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re dead!”

He grabbed Lang and threw him to the ground. He punched the man beneath him, pounding his face with his fist. Bucky heard the rest of the guests scream before he felt two people trying to hold him back.

Lang slowly rose from the floor and coughed up the blood running down his throat from his shattered nose. “I think we all know who the killer is. We should tie him up, call the police and leave.”

“It doesn’t prove anything,” you quickly said, defending your husband. “He punched you in the face, you’re not dead.”

“No, but he is,” Falcon said, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention.

He suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at him and gestured with his head toward Doctor Green. At first glance, it looked like the scientist was sleeping, but his clothes were soaked with blood.  

Black inspected the body. “Stabbed through the heart with a paper knife.”

Iron puffed out a breath. “Well, at least, we won’t have to carry his body.”

Part 4

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing October 1st-7th, 2017

Here’s this weeks round-up of amazing Gundam Wing fandom thrills! Hope you all enjoy them!

~Mod Hel

Fanfiction:

@ahsimwithsake​

Part 2 http://ahsimwithsake.tumblr.com/post/166124746113/part-2-of-my-super-self-indulgent-ffxvgw-mashup

Gundam Wing/FFXV crossover

(It’s awesome, read it!)

@anaranesindanarie​

Death Unspeaking (Ch. 7) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483196/chapters/27957420

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell

Mute!Duo, Gundams, Eventual Canon Divergence, Mobile Suits, Fighting, Homelessness, Maxwell Church, Sign Language

@claraxbarton​

High Dive (Ch. 2) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12190773/chapters/27799281

While out walking his ex’s dog, Duo discovers something quite unexpected about his attractive and aloof neighbor.

Pairings: 2x5

Warnings: smut, language, D/s

Wide Eyes https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283347

Relationships: Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Heero Yuy

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei, Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy

Additional Tags: Accidental Sex prompts, okay but I failed, but still

Summary: A weekend at a mansion on Long Island opens Wufei’s eyes to some new possibilities.

Silver Strand (Ch. 4) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439333/chapters/27958440

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell, Treize Khushrenada/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Chang Wufei, Relena Peacecraft/Hilde Schbeiker, Lucrezia Noin/Sally Po, Zechs Merquise/Quatre Raberba Winner, Dorothy Catalonia/Heero Yuy

angst, language, violence, character death, drugs, sex

Summary: The world had shifted, boundaries had been crossed, right and wrong had long ago been abandoned. A dark story of revenge, love, loss and drug smuggling. AU set in Coronado, California in the 1970s. Based on/Inspired by Joshuah Bearman’s “Coronado High”

@fadedsepiascribbles​

Everything but the squeal... https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296454

A brief look at the day-to-day life of two boys.

Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner

@graydama​

Driving School https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12672946/1/Driving-School

Odin Darlin, Inari, and Peggy as OCs.

Posted to GW OC October

@helmistress​

How to Love an Axe Murderer http://archiveofourown.org/works/12263703

Follow up fic for Kangofu_CB’s Hypnotic

1X4, 2X3, Dorothy, Quatre, and Sylvia are slightly evil. >_>

Quatre also holds petty grudges...

Quatre gets revenge on Duo for planting the 'Axe Murderer' criteria in Heero's head before their first date.

Illy-chan e Grupo GW Traducoes

Normal People (Ch. 6) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12608560/6/Normal-People

Projeto Pilotos Gundam Wing: Semana Wufei Chang. Autora: In2lalaLand. Tradução Autorizada. 2x5x2. YAOI. Tradutora: Illy-chan HimuraWakai. Temos preconceitos contra os que são diferentes, mas não significa eles também não tenham seus preconceitos. O que acontece quando Duo, recém-chegado e jogador de basquete, se apaixona pelo gótico Wufei, que odeia esportistas?

Growing Up (Ch. 7) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12595537/7/Growing-Up

Projeto Pilotos Gundam Wing: Semana Wufei Chang. Autora: Celina Fairy. Tradução Autorizada. 5x1, 1x5, 5x1x2 YAOI. Tradutora: Illy-chan H.Wakai. Wufei perde a paciência e decide, com Heero, fazer um aluno de trança - que não perde a chance de infernizar os dois namorados com toda a sorte de brincadeiras cretinas - aprender que, às vezes, "O feitiço pode virar contra o feiticeiro".

Everybody Breaks (Ch. 3) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12598428/3/Everybody-Breaks

Projeto Pilotos Gundam Wing: Semana Wufei Chang Autora: Kai. Tradução Autorizada. 1x2x5x3x4. YAOI. Tradutora: Illy-chan HimuraWakai. Algumas fotos 'interessantes' aparecem no email de Wufei, um dia, e fazem as coisas finalmente entrar nos eixos em sua mente... e o ajudam a ganhar liberdade e a se libertar de seu próprio passado - em busca de um futuro com os outros quatro pilotos.

@kangofu-cb​

Hypnotic http://archiveofourown.org/works/12251937

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Quatre Raberba Winner/Heero Yuy, background Duo Maxwell/Trowa Barton

Characters: Quatre Raberba Winner, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, mention of Trowa but no actual appearance

Additional Tags: abject filthy smut, no redeeming qualities, Just Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, First Date, Tropes, Alternate Universe

Summary: Heero goes on a blind date, one he hopes isn’t an axe murderer, and it ends VERY well.

@lifeaftermeteor​

LAM snippet https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166160120939/winner-family-compound-l4-v05001-4-may-207-quatre

Winner Family Compound L4-V05001 4 May 207

Features Quatre calling in to Trowa and Iria.

Lord Raa

Heero Sandwich (Ch. 11) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12594063/11/Heero-Sandwich

Nobody asked for this, especially not Heero Yuy, but here we are all the same. Prepare for a "comedy" with some adult content. If the chapters feel truncated, then you might want to look for a certain Fanfiction Forum on the (dot) net for a more complete experience.

luvsanime02

Conduit https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283068

2X4, Kinktober

Quatre can't ever forget how much he means to Duo when the emotions are always right there.

Turbulence (Ch. 6) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927283/chapters/27812673

Original Characters, Sally Po, Chang Wufei, Heero Yuy

Preventers (Gundam Wing), Post-Series, Politics, Slurs

The story about what Agent Frank Parks has been up to between Evasion and now.

This is the seventh story in Navigation, a fem!Heero series.

Begging to be Told https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270564

Wufei is simply returning Duo's cat, but somehow the situation turns into something more.

2X5, Kinktober

Prelude to a Dream https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269742

Duo and Quatre are both tired, both some things are worth demonstrating before they finally fall asleep.

2X4, Kinktober

Celebrationem https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282999

Duo gives Zechs his birthday present.

2X6, Kinktober

Maldoror_Chant

The Source of All Things (Ch. 3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121344/chapters/27808335

Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Eventual Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Even more eventual 1x2x5

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

(Alternative Universe, far-flung future sci-fi/fantasy. There are elements from the anime that exist here, albeit in very different forms; Gundam mechas, Zero, and lovely G-boys for instance. They are perhaps a universal constant we are not yet aware of.

This fic was original started over a decade ago. It has been heavily rewritten and should now be eventually finished)

The Arrangement (Ch. 22) https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131427/chapters/27928350

1X5

Wufei, struggling with his demons, agrees to a wartime fling with Heero, no affection needed or wanted. But the 'arrangement' lasts and grows as they join the preventers. It could become a source of strength for both. If they let it.

Mistaken-Miracles

When the Tides Change (Ch. 39) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12432602/39/When-The-Tides-Change

Preventers learn of a new underground rebellion group, along with the arrival of a new ally. Can Heero put his feelings aside to trust this ally or will new discoveries create tension between the Gundam Pilots? Can they work together to keep the peace? Or are there too many complications to control?

@outofworkshinigami​ / @shinigami-of-excellence​

Even Supervillains Need Sick Days http://archiveofourown.org/works/12264510

Pairings: 11x13, implied 11x13x6

Characters: Lady Une, Treize Khushrenada

Genre: hurt/comfort, sickfic

Warnings: very short vomit scene, can be skipped over; no other warnings apply (very mild fic for me, I know)

Summary: Treize has a habit of overworking himself. Sometimes (many times), the only thing stopping him from speaking, schmoozing, and battling himself into the grave is Lady Une.

Inspired by this and this.

@remsyk-blog​

Blooming For You (Ch. 8) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981688/chapters/27911874

"You made flowers grow in my lungs, and though they are beautiful, I can't fucking breathe."

Duo has silently loved for them for years. He watched them find each other, yet the feelings still remained. But now the love he's carried for so long may become the thing that ends him.

1X3, 1X2X3

Scarlet Eve

Last Resistance to Peace (Ch. 24) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12270582/24/Last-Resistance-to-Peace

[Alternate Timeline] The Romefeller Foundation was once a quiet group of charitable aristocrats. After the announcement of their military branch, OZ, and the Gundams, Queen Relena Peacecraft's fears have been confirmed. Romefeller will stop at nothing to rule the planet under one government. But Relena and the Gundam pilots won't allow their fate to be chosen for them.

Shadow-Hawk2

Imperial Guard (Ch. 73) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12559874/73/Imperial-Guard

Duo Maxwell is trapped in another part of the galaxy far from all that he knows and the woman he loves. He must learn to survive among primitive violent people and accept that he may never be able to return to Earth.

Shinigamiinochi

Stagnation of Love (rewrite) (Ch. 68) https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490005/chapters/27824658

(Chapter 8, Part 23)

Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner/Trowa Barton, Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy/Relena Darlian, OC/Duo Maxwell

Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Relena Darlian, Zechs

Child Abuse, Bullying, Angst, Suicide, Incest, Alternate Universe

Duo continues to struggle balancing all of his secrets and two lives while keeping Heero in the dark, but the weight of his problems quickly starts to see him making fatal mistakes.

StrawberryWaltz

The Forgotten (Ch. 9) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686344/chapters/27950751

Quatre Raberba Winner/Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner/Original Male Character(s), Past Quatre/Trowa

The entire universe thinks that Quatre Winner is dead, but when Heero starts having strange black outs he begins to realize the rumors of Quatre's death might not be true.

Tahiri-Chan

Studio 10 (Ch. 7) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12623011/7/Studio-10

*UPDATE Chapitre 7* Quand on a 16 ans, et que la vie ne vous a laissé aucun répit, il faut du courage pour aller de l'avant ! Et faire les rencontres qui changeront vos vies...

TheHiddenBaroness

Resurrecting the Viper (Ch. 17) https://archiveofourown.org/works/10938852/chapters/27923703

Following a routine visit to Vingolf, Orga, Mikazuki and Merribit are surprised by the sudden appearance of a practically naked, injured woman. Although Artima seems to have full recollection of who she is, she does not seem to understand the outside world. Against Orga's better judgment, the Isaribi is soon entangled in Artima's quest to find and destroy her old mobile suit - and discover both she and it are relics from over three hundred years ago that could hold the key to Tekkadan's future.

TheManwell

May Demons Rest: Shinigami Sleeps (2017) (Ch. 24 & 25) http://archiveofourown.org/works/10944786/chapters/27794595

2X3, Language warnings

Fanart:

Aleximusprime

https://aleximusprime.deviantart.com/art/The-Wing-Gundam-707943103

Chibi Wing Gundam, model

@alpha2nd2006​

http://alpha2nd2006.tumblr.com/post/166117746417/inktober-day-6-day-6-favorite-relationship-s

Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner, WuFei Chang

Chasingartwork

https://chasingartwork.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Waltz-707584067

Wing Gundam

@chronicwhimsy​

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/165928656728/october-l2-preventers-branch

OCs from Salvage (http://archiveofourown.org/works/8175788/chapters/18731570)

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/165945242042/so-today-salvage-is-celebrating-1-year-since-the

Salvage fanart. Duo Maxwell & WuFei Chang.

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/165982166077/inktober-day-2-more-of-these-nerds

Duo Maxwell, WuFei Chang

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/166016414277/inktober-day-3-am-i-going-to-spend-all-month

WuFei Chang & Duo Maxwell cuddles!

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/166051968227/inktober-day-4-ive-been-watching-cardcaptor

WuFei Chang, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/166086407397/inktober-day-5-aka-dammit-maxwell-i-will-find-a

Duo Maxwell

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/166117147102/thelaughingstar-i-know-you-are-having-a-bad-day

Duo Maxwell, WuFei Chang

http://chronicwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/166152381227/inktober-day-7-mah-boi-kickin-ass

Duo Maxwell

@downwarddnaspiral​

http://downwarddnaspiral.tumblr.com/post/165943804921/grumpy-wufei-he-got-tired-of-his-shirt-my

WuFei Chang (lines)

http://downwarddnaspiral.tumblr.com/post/165942214001/my-proportions-are-off-today-i-have-days-where-i

Relena Darlian/Peacecraft (lines)

http://downwarddnaspiral.tumblr.com/post/165995898466/downwarddnaspiral-relena-in-color-slightly

Relena Darlian/Peacecraft (colored)

@endlesschaoscosart​

https://endlesschaoscosart.tumblr.com/post/166056205461/trowa-barton-oh-youre-my-pretty-thing

Trowa Barton

@graydama​

https://graydama.tumblr.com/post/165943884420/driving-school

Driving School fan art!

Odin and Inari

Posted to GW OC October

@helmistress​

https://talliya.deviantart.com/art/Meilan-Long-708100867

Meilan Long

Jetna250

https://jetna250.deviantart.com/art/RG-XXXG-00W0-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-2-708070061

Wing Zero, model

https://jetna250.deviantart.com/art/RG-XXXG-00W0-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-708069220

Wing Zero, model

Murumokirby360

https://murumokirby360.deviantart.com/art/Deathscythe-Hell-Chowder-707195203

Chowder as Deathsycthe Hell

@oldnewtype​

https://oldnewtype.tumblr.com/post/166017614375/this-is-a-pretty-old-one-i-built-in-2012-the-160

Wing Gundam, model

@pawedprints​ / @fantwirls​

http://pawedprints.tumblr.com/post/166091495618/inktober-day-5

Duo Maxwell

Rubatosian-Force

https://rubatosian-force.deviantart.com/art/TRAUMA-grey-scale-708398038

Heero Yuy

@sctvita1988​

https://sctvita1988.tumblr.com/post/165941824329/nxedge-style-ms-unit-wing-gundam-zero-the-ew

Wing Gundam, model

@specopsmk2​

http://specopsmk2.tumblr.com/post/166016261222/been-watching-gundam-wing-for-the-first-time-and

Tallgeese

TheBRSteamer95

https://thebrsteamer95.deviantart.com/art/SFM-Gundam-Breaker-2-Wing-Zero-Scene-708312865

Wing Zero

https://thebrsteamer95.deviantart.com/art/SFM-Wing-Gundam-and-Barbatos-707368829

Wing Gundam and Barbatos

@vegalume

http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/166040070415/the-color-washed-out-a-little-my-wall-of-g-boys

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, WuFei Chang, Milliardo Peacecraft/Zechs Merquise, Treize Khushrenada

http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/166039122310/my-two-newest-paintings-i-just-finished-treize

Zechs & Treize close-up

http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/166129273815/hee-hee

Heero Yuy

Cosplay:

Hezakota

https://hezakota.deviantart.com/art/Duo-Maxwell-from-Gundam-Wing-708094286

Duo Maxwell

No Idea What To Put This Under:

@gwepisode50

https://gw-ficrecfriday.tumblr.com/post/165941397916/the-unified-earth-borders-and-politics

The Unified Earth, borders, and politics

Thoughts/Discussion

Calendar Events:

Gundam Wing Eve War Event @gw-evewar

https://gw-evewar.tumblr.com/post/164079261510/an-open-gundam-wing-fandom-community-science

Open Science Fiction Themed Event

(Saturday) December 23, 2017 - (Sunday) December 24, 2017

*** event will be observing Universal Coordinated Time (UTC) ***

Submissions: Fanfiction, Meta essays, Personal Headcanon, Fan Art

Rules: All works must feature a science fiction theme. Alternate Universes, and cross-over fiction are welcome. There are no limits to characters, pairings, audience rating, time frame or universe.

OC October @gwoc-october

https://gwoc-october.tumblr.com/post/164521028355/update

For the month of October, we can post everything and anything pertaining to fan OCs in Gundam Wing with weekly themes and perhaps a featured OC every other day or so. This includes fic, snippets, art, OC profiles, headcanons, ships, discussions, and anything you have as long as it’s about an OC. Even if this OC of yours is still in the mulling-stages, we want to hear about it! Let’s embrace OCs and celebrate our collective awesomeness.

Unnatural November @gwblockparty

https://gwblockparty.tumblr.com/post/165669240206/unnatural-november-is-coming

The entire month of November.

Supernatural, Otherworldly, Spooky, Alien Techy, Unnatural things will all be taken! Join the fun!

Archives/Sites:

Gundam Wing Pod Fics on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=podfic&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&commit=Sort+and+Filter&tag_id=Gundam+Wing

Come and take a listen!

Gundam Wing fanfiction Archive List by @vegalume

https://gundamwingarchive.wixsite.com/fanfiction

Talliya’s Domain by @helmistress

https://ayeeshadragon.wixsite.com/talliya/links

Gundam Wing Diaries Fanfiction Archive by ShenLong

http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.foreverfandom.net/gw/main_Updates.htm

[aresaphrodites]

this crown of thorns.

Summary: 

She never knew Jughead Jones. She would never know the man in that video, happy and carefree amidst all the death and war around them.

She knew Winter; a man who was fearless, feared. A man who was quiet and cold, almost a statue of a human being. She knew a man with enough demons and monsters to echo her own. She knew a man that stayed up all night, thoughts plagued with nightmares of deaths he wished he could forget. She didn’t know the war hero, she knew the asset; the man who brought war with him. She loved Winter. She didn’t love Jughead.

MARVEL AU. Some events were taken from CA:TWS. Betty = Black Widow. Archie = Captain America. Jughead = The Winter Soldier. Veronica is Hawkeye, Reggie is Iron Man, and Cheryl is Scarlet Witch although they’re only really mentioned, not key characters in the story. 

As of right now, this story is just a one shot. I could consider adding another part if anyone wants it, though.

Thank you to @bettydooper and @itstenafterfour for cheering me on with this fic. And thank you to @jaded-youth for helping me with the ending. You guys are too good to me. 

Jug speaks Russian in this fic so a few translations are (and don’t blame me if they aren’t entirely correct. I used Google, lol.):

Не стесняйтесь - Do not hesitate. 

мое сердце - My heart.

Вы мое сердце - You are my heart. 

ENJOY!

Life is weird. You wake up one day and you don’t really know how you got there or what happened prior to that one specific day. It’s just like you wake up and suddenly you can’t really remember anything from before, but you know that you’ve been alive for however many consecutive years and it’s just weird. People show you pictures and videos of yourself and they laugh about how cute and funny you used to be. They say things like ‘Oh, remember that time when?’ but no. You don’t remember any of it. You don’t remember a single thing. You nod, though. You nod and act like you have any clue what they’re talking about.

Betty Cooper sometimes feels like she hasn’t known anything from before she was a teenager. She doesn’t remember what it was like to be a child. She can’t remember if she was ever actually a child at all. She has no memories of swings and playgrounds. She doesn’t remember what it’s like to have tea parties and play with dolls.

She must have been a little girl at some point. She didn’t just wake up one day at the age of ten. Someone must have given birth to her. She must have had a mother and a father, maybe even a brother or a sister. She wonders if they’re still alive, if they ever think of her. She thinks about searching for them sometimes, but she never goes through with it. She’s scared of what she could find. She knows not to get her hopes up. Good things don’t happen to people like her.

Betty Cooper might have been a little girl once, but she had never been a child. She never would be a child.

“Cooper,” a voice calls from behind her. She turns around and Archie Andrews is looking at her with those eyes of his that always look so dead, so tired. “You okay?”

She feels bad that he’s asking her that. She doesn’t deserve to have people worry over her. Archie Andrews though, he deserved that. A fallen war hero, barely back from the dead itself; he deserved all the love and worry that he was faced with constantly. She knew that he hated having people baby him. He didn’t want the fame and responsibility that came with being Captain America; just like Betty never wanted the dread and death that followed Black Widow around.

“Great,” she tells him, smiling the smile that she’s perfected over the years. It’s the one that says ‘I’m perfect. I’m perfect in all and every way.’

She hates it. She hates being perfect, because she knows that she is and she knows what it means. It doesn’t mean that she’s a good girl who never gets in trouble; a girl who is pure and kind. It doesn’t mean any of that. She’s the perfect killer. That’s all she’ll ever be.

Archie nods. He knows that she’s lying. He always knows when she’s lying. He used to lecture her about it, being America’s golden boy and all, but he doesn’t lecture her anymore. She feels like maybe he understands. Maybe he lies too sometimes. She can hear him at night, screaming and crying. She hears the way he throws things all over his bedroom. She hears cries and then she hears nothing. She asked him about it one time and he just gave her a tired smile. He didn’t throw things after that. But he still cried. It didn’t matter how thick the walls were at the Avengers tower, she could always hear the broken cries of man who lost his whole world seventy years ago.

When Cap came off the ice, the United States cheered for their fallen hero. She remembers the day perfectly. Every news channel was talking about it, pictures of his face were plastered everywhere. It was the same picture of him that was taken during the war; him standing tall in his uniform, staring right at the camera with a smile on his face.

He had been happy. Once upon a time, Archie Andrews had been happy. He had been in the middle of a war and yet, he still smiled. There was still war and death, even seventy years later. War would never leave the world and Archie followed it like the true soldier he was, but the only difference was that he didn’t smile anymore. Sometimes she wonders if maybe he wished he would have died up in that plane all those years ago. Sometimes she wishes that he would have. At least then he wouldn’t be so sad.

The tower is quiet. Reggie is out at some kind of press meeting in D.C. and he won’t be back until tonight. Betty doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. The tower is quiet without him, way too quiet, and the silence between her and Archie is so thick. They’re friends, of course they are. In fact, they probably get along better with each other than anyone else in the team, but that’s the problem. They know each other too well, their secrets and nightmares, they know them all. Betty doesn’t necessarily like that. At least when Mantle’s around, him and Archie are arguing with each other so much that they don’t really have time to focus on anything else. Sometimes she thinks they argue a little too much.

“Ronnie says we should train,” Archie tells her as he holds up his phone in her direction. He’s still getting used to technology, but at least he doesn’t flinch every time his phone vibrates now.

“We always train.” She’s been training since she was a little girl. She’s tired of it. “Tell her to come over here and train with you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks her, picking up on the slight edge to her voice. “We’re friends, Betty. You can talk to me.”

She wants to remind him that if it weren’t for all the fucked up stuff they’d endured throughout their life, that they wouldn’t have been friends at all. If Archie Andrews had never picked up the shield and gone off to fight Nazis all those years ago, they wouldn’t be friends. If Betty had never been taken away from her family to go learn how to become the world’s most lethal assassin, they wouldn’t be friends. In a perfect world, they don’t know each other. In a perfect world, they aren’t friends. In a perfect world, Betty isn’t perfect.

“I need some air,” she says suddenly as she gets up from the couch. Archie looks at her like he wants to stop her, but he won’t because deep down he understands what it’s like. He knows all about the demons and monsters that plagued their thoughts and he knows that sometimes you have to run to escape them.

She wonders if she’ll ever stop running. She wonders if she even knows how to stop anymore.

Training never stops.

Everything in the Red Room qualifies as training. It never ends. She can’t remember the last time she sat down and had a moment to herself, a moment of peace and quiet. A moment where she could be herself, the version of herself she cooked up in her mind at night when her nightmares kept her awake; the nightmares that were her reality.

She had a version of herself, happy and carefree, living anywhere else. She has a family, friends, she’s happy. She doesn’t kill people. She doesn’t know what someone’s eyes look like right before they die. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have someone beg for their life. She doesn’t know what bones sound like as they snap under her touch.

‘Eyes up.’ The lady snaps in Russian. Betty isn’t Russian. She knows that much. She doesn’t know how she got here. She doesn't know why she’s here. She doesn’t know anything.

She looks up. She obeys.

It’s the first time she sees him.

She can’t see his eyes. His long hair falls into his face, matted and a little bit greasy, as he looks down at the ground. He’s wearing a black, leather getup and he should look normal, normal enough for the Red Room at least, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because his left arm is made completely out of metal, from his shoulder all the way to his fingertips. She’s never seen anything like it before.

‘Begin.’

It’s like a second nature, the way her body reacts to the command. She jabs her fist out and watches in complete shock as the man ducks the punch. He’s still looking down at the floor, hair still covering his face, and he doesn’t even lose his footing. She frowns and reaches out to hit him again. This time, he grabs her fist and twists her arm behind her back.

She doesn’t cry out. She learned long ago not to cry out when she was in pain. Instead, she clenches her jaw and breathes out through her nose. She digs her feet into the ground and then brings up her leg and stomps down on the man’s boot covered foot. She doubts it hurts him, but she isn’t trying to hurt him. She needs him to become unfocused, taken off guard, and it works. He must not have expected her to still be able to think or move under the grip he’d had her arm in, but that’s where he was wrong. She had endured far worse than that.

She kicks him in the side and this time he does lose his balance as he stumbles to the side. This seems to anger him as he finally looks up at her. She gasps as she looks at his eyes. They’re a deep green color, but that’s not what shocks her. It’s the way he seems to be looking at her like she’s nothing. She can tell in his stance that he’s angry with the way she one upped him, but his eyes look void of any and all emotion. It’s unnerving and for the first time in a long time, she feels scared.

He steps towards her and reaches out for her, but she dodges it and brings her fist up to punch him in the jaw. His head snaps back and she twirls around, putting herself behind him and then wraps her arms around his neck as she forces him down to the ground.

His knees barely touch the ground before he’s standing back up, reaching up with his own hands to grab at her. She uses his body as leverage and brings her legs up to wrap around his neck. As he stands up tall again, she brings her hands together and hits him in the face. She thinks that it might end there, but instead he just shakes his head and leans back, making her lose her balance. Once he feels her grip loosen, he reaches up for her and grabs her, tossing her onto the ground afterwards.

She lands back on the floor with a hard thud and pain erupts throughout her entire body. She can hear sometime telling her something, but the words sound muffled to her.

She opens her eyes and gasps in shock when she sees a metal fist coming down at her face. Without a second thought, she rolls away from the oncoming impact and flinches to herself when she hears the sound the fist makes as it hits the ground.

She jumps up to her feet and roundhouse kicks the man in the face, not giving him any time to stand up again. He goes down and as he does, Betty reaches for the knife she keeps in her thigh holster and yanks it out before jumping on top of the man and bringing her hand up to kill him.

That’s what they do here. If you can’t keep up then you die. There are no do overs. Not here, not now. The man looks at her, empty eyes and for the first time in a long time, she feels sad.

He doesn’t look scared or even worried about what’s about to happen. The action startles her so much that she hesitates.

‘Не стесняйтесь.’ The man says simply and it takes Betty by surprise as she looks down at him, shocked that he’s actually said something to her. Before she can even realize what he’s said, he grabs the knife from her hand with his metal one and flips them over, pinning her to the ground before bringing the metal of the blade to her neck, pressing down on the skin there.

The people remember.

That’s what everyone usually tells Archie when they go out places. The people remember what he did for the country; for the world, and they appreciate him. He smiles, timidly and usually forcely, but he still gives them the validation they need; that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. For Betty, it’s not that simple. The things she’s done? The things she’s seen? People don’t know about that. They look at her and they see the woman who’s helped Captain America keep the world safe and alive recently. They thank her too, but she doesn’t smile at them and offer the hope they want. She just nods.

She wonders what they would say if they all knew the truth.

There’s a bench in Central Park that she likes to sit at sometimes when she just needs to think. It’s nice to get fresh air and watch the world carry on in front of her eyes. She wishes that she could be one of the women running with her girl friends, gossiping about whatever juvenile things their significant others did that weekend. She doesn’t have any girl friends, but even if she did, she wouldn’t be gossiping about men with them.

She has no man in her life. Not anymore.

Veronica likes to think of them as friends, but Betty can’t allow that. She can never get close to someone that way again. Archie is different. He’s seen things, he’s experienced the horrible things in the world first hand. He knows the way their lives work and how they’ll end. Veronica still thinks the world can be saved. She thinks that one day they’ll all be able to live happily ever after. Even Cheryl, the girl who watched her twin brother die right in front of her eyes, has some hope for the future. They’re both young; they’re naive.

Betty accepted her fate long ago. She’s either going to die with a bullet to the head or a knife to the throat. There’s no other option. She’ll go out fighting, it’s the only possible way.

Her life feels like it’s on standby. She spends all her time waiting. Waiting for the next mission, for the next attack. She wakes up in the morning and spends her time waiting until she can sleep so she can begin the cycle all over again. She waits for the day that it’ll all finally be over. She didn’t used to think this way. Once upon a time, she’d looked forward to the sun rising every morning. That had been a different time though, back when he was still there; when he was still alive. Sometimes if she closes her eyes and focuses hard enough, she can see his eyes looking at her. Most of the time they had still portrayed that nearly lifeless look, but sometimes, when they were alone in the quiet hours of the night, he’d look at her and he’d see her. It was in those hours that she’d see glimpses of the man he might have once been and he saw the girl she’d made up in her mind.

Her fingernails dig into the palm of her hands, drawing blood, as she remembers him. It hurts too much to think of him these days, especially because now she knows. She knows who he is and what he did. She knows his real name and the man he once was. She can’t escape his face anymore.

She remembers when she’d first found out. Archie had dragged her down to the Smithsonian. It had been right after he’d woken up from the ice, only a few months after she’d been saved by S.H.I.E.L.D.. He told her that he needed to see the exhibit, the one dedicated to him; he needed to see how people remembered him. Betty had thought it was a bad idea and she was right. It just turned out to be bad for her.

It was like seeing a ghost.

She’d never been to the exhibit before. She didn’t really have time for it. She still didn’t like being in large crowds. She couldn’t trust the people around her. As she stood closely by Archie though, she felt a little safer. People wouldn’t harm her if she was with their hero.

He wore a cap and kept his head down, avoiding the eyes of everyone at all costs. Betty didn’t have to do that. No one knew who she was. She was no one, just like she’d always been.

It was kind of unreal at first, seeing Archie’s original suit on the mannequin. She wanted to reach out and touch it. Several other mannequins surrounded him, each wearing their own getup. Archie didn’t seem to pay attention to any of them except for the one that was directly behind him to the right. The mannequin was wearing a blue jacket and Archie didn’t hesitate as he reached his hand out and touched the material gently before ripping it back, as if it had burned him.

‘It shouldn’t be up here.’

Betty looks at him in question, but he doesn’t pay any attention to her.

‘His jacket should be with someone who loves it, who loved him. It was his favorite. He wouldn’t want it hanging in some old museum.’

‘Was he your friend?’ She asks, noticing the way his eyes start to water slightly.

‘He was my brother,’ he says softly. ‘In every sense except biological, he was my brother. He was always watching out for me, little Archie Andrews who couldn’t step down from a fight. He always protected me and when he needed me the most, I couldn’t do the same for him.’

Betty doesn’t say anything, mostly because she understands what that’s like. She had tried to save someone once too. It didn’t work out that well either.

‘I should have died with him that day.’

The words startled her. Archie had never said anything like that before and she didn’t know how serious he was.

‘I wish I had died with him that day.’

‘The world needed you,’ Betty tells him, not really knowing how to comfort him. She’d never had to comfort anyone before.

‘He needed me more.’

And that’s that. Archie turns away from the costume exhibit and walks off towards the memorial. She’s never seen the memorial, but she can hear the words that are spoken out through the intercom.

‘From childhood playground to the front lines of war, Sergeant Forsythe Pendleton “Jughead” Jones III and Captain Archie Andrews were inseparable. Jones followed right along Captain America as they banded what would become known as the Howling Commandos. Jones was the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.’

Archie stares at a moving video on a screen in the exhibit and Betty follows his gaze.

She nearly faints at what she sees.

It’s him. Winter is on the screen in front of her. She moves closer, heart rate kicking up as she takes in the sight in front of her.

Winter is there, laughing and smiling right next to Archie as he throws a hand over the redhead’s shoulders. They both look so happy and Betty feels like she can’t breathe.

His hair is a lot shorter than it had been when she’d last seen him; right before they took him away from her, before they killed him, but she would recognize his face anywhere. His eyes are full of light; of life. It’s something Betty never got to see before. It’s beautiful. It’s heartbreaking.

‘Archie…’ she whispers out, begging for the other man’s attention. It comes slowly, pained, and he has to force himself to tear his eyes away from his once best friend. ‘That’s him. That’s Winter.’ 

She looks back on it now and realizes that maybe she should have never said a single thing to Archie. She’d seen the way his face had gone from confused to doubtful to hopeful. They had a long talk that night. Betty told him all about the Red Room, something she’d yet to do with anyone else. She told him about how they had taken Winter away from her. She couldn’t call him Jughead. That wasn’t his name, not to her. She never knew Jughead Jones. She would never know the man in that video, happy and carefree amidst all the death and war around them.

She knew Winter; a man who was fearless, feared. A man who was quiet and cold, almost a statue of a human being. She knew a man with enough demons and monsters to echo her own. She knew a man that stayed up all night, thoughts plagued with nightmares of deaths he wished he could forget. She didn’t know the war hero, she knew the asset; the man who brought war with him. She loved Winter. She didn’t love Jughead.

That was the first time she’d ever seen Archie cry. He cried as he longed for the friend that Betty had only seen just a few short years ago. He cried for the man that he’d once known and he cried for the man he had become. He cried for having to relive the death all over again.

Betty didn’t cry.

She had cried when they took him from her; only a few tears and not in front of anyone else. She knew better than to make that mistake.

She wonders what happened to Winter; how he ended up where he did. How he was alive after all those years. Her mind reeled with all the unanswered questions. She didn’t voice them though, that had been Archie. Archie who had barged into S.H.I.E.D., eyes blazing as he demanded someone to tell him what was going on, what he was missing.

Conversations about Serpents and terrorists rung out into the air; a man who had helped the enemy shape the world for almost a century. Archie had tried to drink himself blind that night, but it didn’t work.

‘He was a war hero,’ Archie had said with empty eyes. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look like he was giving up. ‘He was a war hero and they just took that all away.’

Betty doesn’t know Jughead Jones, but a small part of her sometimes wishes that she did. What was he like? Was he just as strong and hard headed as Winter had been? Archie had once told her stories of how he would charm all the girls in Brooklyn. No one could resist Jughead Jones and that smirk he would give them. Betty knew a little bit about that.

Her feet were aching and her muscles were screaming out at her. The last training session had been especially hard today and all she wanted was to take a shower and rest. She knew that wouldn’t happen though. There wasn’t time for rest in the Red Room. You could rest when you were dead. That’s what Madam B. had always said.

She was allowed to shower though. The cold water helped her aching muscles and she yearned to stay under there forever.

The sound of heavy footsteps echos in the quiet restroom, the sound of the shower door being open rings out, and she knows who it is before she even opens her eyes.

It’s him.

He’s fully dressed in front of her. His hair has recently been cut, not by much though, and she can see his eyes now as he looks at her. He doesn’t try to hide them from her anymore and she doesn’t hide herself from him as she stands up tall, completely bare in front of him.

He just looks at her, tilting his head to the side as he takes in her physical appearance. She knows what he’s looking at before he even does anything. He reaches out with his hand, the flesh one not the cold metal one, and touches the bruise that’s forming on her cheekbone.

‘It’s okay,’ she tells him as she brings her hand up to hold his. The touch startles him at first just like it always does, but his shoulders soon sag in familiarity and he lets her grab his hand and pull it away slowly. ‘It’ll heal. Just like yours heal.’  

Except his wounds heal abnormally fast. She’s never seen anything like it before. Things don’t hurt him the way they hurt the others. He never stays down too long, even when the beating he takes should leave him a nearly lifeless lump on the ground.

He steps closer towards her, the shower isn’t a big one and their bodies are nearly already pressed up against each other. His combat boots slosh against the water and a part of her wants to ask him to undress. She won’t though. Because he never truly does.

He lowers his head and brings their lips closer together, but not close enough that they’re touching. Betty stays completely still as she waits for his next move.

It comes soon enough. His lips are slightly chapped as they press up against hers, but they still feel better than anything else. She’s never kissed anyone before, not until he came into her life, but she can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. He kisses her deep and passionately and Betty has to grab onto his arms to stop herself from doing something stupid like fainting.

‘мое сердце.’

It’s what he always calls her, the Russian words falling off his tongue so beautifully. His accent isn’t Russian though, so she knows that he’s not a native. His accent is flat, mirroring her own and she knows that they’re from the same place. She often thinks about asking him, but she isn’t prepared for the answers she’ll get. She wonders if he even knows or if he’s like her; confused and lost.

‘Don’t be gentle,’ she tells him. He looks at her, eyes a bit nervous, but she just nods. Winter knows what she needs. He always knows what she needs.

He puts his hands on the back of her thighs and picks her up in one swift motion. She gasps out in surprise and wraps her legs around his waist to stop herself from falling, even though she knows he’d never let her fall.

His metal hand is cold against her skin but it feels so good, a stark contrast to the warmth of his flesh hand on her other thigh. He digs his fingers into her thighs, like he can’t get enough of them, and she hisses out at the pain of it. It feels good against the soreness of the muscles there and he must see that because he digs them in a little deeper.

Betty groans out before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face down to hers, pressing their lips together in a kiss that is more teeth than it is anything else. It’s a contrast to the one they shared earlier, but it’s just what she needs right now. He bites at her lip a bit harshly before pulling away and licking at the spot, trying to soothe it over.

She knows they don’t have enough time. They never have enough time. She dreams of a day when it’ll be just them, no more Red Room and no more handlers. She dreams of a day when they can lay together in a bed that’s bigger than twin sized; when they can sleep in until noon and she can wake up before him, bring him breakfast in bed and then waste the day away together.

But for now they have a cramped shower and that has to be good enough for them.

He unzips his pants quickly, using only one hand and Betty tosses her head back against the wall behind her. She wishes they could savor this moment.

He presses himself into her gently and she moans out at the feeling of him inside of her. No matter how many times they do this, she never gets used to the way he feels inside of her. She feels full and complete, like she wants them to stay in this position forever. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

He begins a steady pace, pushing his hips into hers gently as she bounces up and down in his arms. The water cascades around them and for a moment, she lets herself think that they’re anywhere else but here.

‘Harder,’ she pants out. He does as she asks, snapping his hips into her with a little more force. It allows him to slide deeper into her and Betty lets her head fall back as her eyes all but roll to the back of her head. It’s fast and dirty and it’s everything she’s ever wanted, everything she’s ever needed.

It doesn’t take long before Winter comes apart completely inside of her. He always comes inside of her; there’s no reason not to, not after the graduation ceremony.

He presses their foreheads together, both of them are panting lightly.

‘I wish we could stay here forever, Elizabeth. If it weren’t for you, I would have lost myself long ago.’

The words are spoken so lightly by him that she nearly misses them. It’s not like him to be so sentimental and she’s taken off guard for a moment before she smiles.

‘I love you.’ She tells him, because she does. She’s never loved anyone before, but she loves the broken man in front of her.

He looks at her a bit unsure at first before he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

‘Вы мое сердце.’ 

You are my heart.

That’s what he had told her. He hadn’t said he loved her, but he didn’t need to. She knew he did. They both knew that what he told her meant more than anything else. She was his whole heart, just as he was hers. They didn’t make sense. They were two machines, created by people more dangerous than they could ever be, built to create chaos and leave destruction whenever they went. They had both been taught that they could never love, never be normal, but yet she found love and the closest thing to normal that she could and she found it wrapped up in him.

Her phone starts to buzz rapidly in her pocket, letting her know that it’s one of the Avengers trying to get ahold of her. She doesn’t know how she feels about being one of the “good guys” now, but she’ll take what she can get.

Archie’s number flashes on the screen at her. The words ‘TOWER NOW. 911’ screaming back at her. She gets up from her spot on the bench and walks over to the motorcycle she’d brought to the park with her. Throwing a leg over it, she starts it up and begins to dash through all of the traffic, ignoring the honks she receives in retaliation.

“Archie!” She yells as she walks into the tower. He’s pacing back and forth across the floor, suit on and shield across his back. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a breach over at S.H.I.E.L.D. Ronnie says that she thinks some people have been undercover as Serpents this entire time. We need to get down there right now.”

“I could have met you there!” Betty yells at him, aware that they’re now wasting time.

“You’re going like that?” He looks down at her clothes. She’s wearing a pair of tight black jeans and high heeled boots, a black top and a leather jacket. Not exactly fighting clothes, but they don’t call her Black Widow for nothing. She’s fought in high heels before. They’re her favorite accessory. “This might be a fight, Betty.”

“Things have been a little dull around here,” she says with a slight smirk.

Archie just nods before making his way towards the elevator. “We’re taking the motorcycle.”

Traffic is bad. Archie swerves through it as much as he can, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is across the city from them and they don’t really have much time. They’re on the highway right now and Betty is about to just run the rest of the way.

It comes suddenly and out of nowhere when the bike randomly stalls in the middle of the highway.

“What the hell?” Archie says to himself. Betty is just about to yell at him for forgetting to fuel up when she looks up and stops.

A man stands at the end of the bridge directly across from them. He’s covered completely head to toe in black. She can’t see an inch of skin on him, a black leather getup covers his entire torso and arms, black gloves even rest on his hands, and his face is covered with a black mask and eye goggles. The only thing she can see is long dark hair, nearly black, that fans out around his face. He stands tall, unmoving, and Betty stands up from the bike.

“We have company,” Betty tells Archie, who looks up and follows her gaze with his own curious one.

“Who…” before he can say anything else, the man picks up his arms and Betty and Archie see the large gun he’d been holding.

“Duck!” She yells out, grabbing Archie and throwing them both onto the ground just as the man starts shooting the gun. “Who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know!” Archie yells at her, looking at her incredulously. “How the fuck should I know?”

The man starts walking towards them, stopping traffic as he gets in the way of the other pedestrians. People begin to get out of their cars and run off of the highway and Betty almost wants to do the same.

“We got more company,” Archie says and points behind them. Betty turns around and sees three more men, dressed exactly like the other one and curses to herself.

“We can’t outrun them all.”

“We can try.” Archie stands up and pulls his shield off his back, holding it in front of them as the men start shooting at them. “I got them! Can you take care of the other one?”

She only has one gun and a knife on her, but it’s more than enough. She nods towards Archie and turns to face the man. He aims the gun towards her as he moves closer but before he can shoot, Betty swings her legs over the edge of the railing and jumps off the highway, landing on an abandoned car underneath them. A sharp pain runs through her legs, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it. She jumps off of the car and turns around just in time to see the man follow her lead as he lands on the car too.

He struts down the hood of the car and Betty falters slightly as she watches him. Something about him seems so familiar and she gets lost in the way he moves so gracefully.

He seems confused as he looks around for her and that’s when Betty realizes that she’s supposed to be “taking care of him”. She runs up behind him and kicks him square in the back, making him lose his footing as he stumbles forward. His grip on the gun loosens, but he doesn’t drop it completely.

He turns around and immediately begins shooting but Betty’s already circled her way around him. She doesn’t want to kill him. She made a pact with herself long ago that she would never kill again unless completely necessary, but she needs to unarm him now or else that’s all going to be for nothing.

Doing what she does best, she runs and jumps up, using the man’s body and her strength to climb up and wrap her legs around his neck. It’s her signature move that’s always been able to knock Archie off his feet and it seems to do the same to the man as he finally drops his gun in surprise.

Betty pulls out the wire that she keeps in her jacket pocket and wraps it around the man’s neck, trying to cut off his air supply. If she can get him to pass out then that could make this a lot easier.

He brings his hands up and tries to pull her arms away, but her grip on him is way too tight. She watches as he begins to go slack and she sighs in relief.

Her relief is short lived when she’s suddenly thrown off of his back and throttled across the street. She lands roughly on the gravel and rolls a few times before finally coming to a stop. She groans out in pain as she tries to get to her feet again.

The man is talking to someone else, instructing them to do something, but Betty can’t understand a word they’re saying.

The man’s attention turns back to her and she watches in fear as he begins to stalk over to her. There’s no way she’s going to be able to fight him off right now. Her head feels fuzzy from the landing and she can’t even see him properly. He grabs a knife out of his thigh holster and twirls it around in his hand menacingly.

Betty shuts her eyes tightly and waits. If she’s going to die then she’d rather not watch it happen.

She waits but nothing happens. She hears a deep grunt and opens her eyes to see that the man is staggering backwards, an arrow through his shoulder. Betty whirls around, knowing exactly who those arrows belong to.

Veronica Lodge stands on top of the railing of the highway. Bow and arrow ready as she looks down at Betty.

“You good?” She yells out.

Betty nods, her head finally clearing up. “I got him! Go help Archie!”

Veronica nods and Betty turns her attention back towards the man. She watches in horror as he rips the arrow out of himself before snapping his head up. She can’t see his eyes and that makes everything so much scarier. She has no idea what he looks like and it makes her nervous. She feels like she’s fighting blindly.

She runs up to man, knowing there’s no other way to get around him. She throws her fist out, trying to land a punch to his stomach but he jumps back and grabs her arm, swinging her around over him before tossing her to the ground again. This time though, she jumps back up quickly as she ignores the pain in her back. He tries to punch her but she dodges it and elbows him in the back hard, causing him to fall forward onto his knees.

She roundhouse kicks him and watches as he falls into the ground face first. Just as she’s about to reach for her gun, he flips over and swings his legs out, bringing her down with him. She grunts as she hits the cement again but manages to get her knife out of her thigh holster.

Just as the man crouches over her, she picks up the knife and makes to stab him in the shoulder.

Before she can, he reaches out and grabs it like it’s nothing before tossing it off to the side. Betty gasps and looks at him in alarm.

Who the hell was she fighting?

They begin to throw punches left and right once she stands up. She hasn’t fought like this in a while and for some reason it takes her back to the Red Room, to all the training she had to endure. She was groomed to become the perfect killer and she was. She was the best of the best and right now she could feel it in the way she dodged and ducked every single hit the man was aiming at her.

“Betty!” She hears Archie yells from behind her. “Duck!”

She does as he asks and the man loses his balance as his hand swings out and hits the air. Archie throws his shield forward and it takes the man off guard as it hits him straight in the chest, making him roll backwards onto the gravel.

The black mask he’d been wearing falls off and Betty looks at it in wonder. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest as she watches the man begin to stand up. His hand goes up to his face and he takes off the goggles, letting them fall to the ground besides him.

Archie jogs up to her, standing by her side as the both of them watch the man slowly turn around, waiting to see who had been behind the mask the entire time.

Finally, he faces them and Betty’s entire world stops.

Green eyes stare back at her; empty, lifeless, but familiar. A face she’d spent so many years trying to forget is looking back at her.

“Jughead?” Archie gasps out.

Betty takes a step forward and then two more before Archie reaches out and grabs her hand, stopping her. She pulls her hand out of his, but stays put. The man seems confused by the whole thing as he looks at them with wide, frightened eyes. She’s looking at him with broken eyes; eyes that wished they were seeing anything else. She can’t go through this again. She can’t.

But he’s here. He’s right in front of her.

“Winter?”

The man tilts his head. “Who the hell is Winter?”

[buckybarnesbingo]

Week 38 Roundup PART ONE (yes, there’s gonna be another one because there have been so many fills!) of OUR FINAL ROUNDUP OF THE FIRST ROUND OF THE BUCKY BARNES BINGO!!!  Part 2 will post probably on January 4th, so we get all the rest of the Flash fills as well.

We have had an amazing time celebrating Bucky with you!  Now go give these creators some love.

Title: Her Royal Mechanic-Ness Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: U1 - Howling Commandos Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: wartime hijinks, flirty Bucky Summary: While visiting a base back in England, Bucky, Dum-Dum and Gabe catch a ride from a posh lady army mechanic. Word Count: 861 

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Title: Adventures/Explorers AU Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B3 - Adventures/Explorers AU Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: none

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Title: Out in the Cold Collaborator: ceealaina Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y2 - Butts, Biceps, and Barnes Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: fluff, getting together Summary: Avengers press events are one of the worst parts of the whole superhero gig. But getting paired with Barnes (the man he just happens to have an unrepentant crush on) for an afternoon of snowman building? Tony’s had worse days. Word Count: 1698

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Title: Best Present Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Clint Barton/Hawkeye Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: fluff Summary: none Word Count: 801

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Title: Change Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C2 - height difference Ship: Stucky Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: drabble Summary: none Word Count:100

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Title: I Know a Guy Who’s Tough But Sweet Collaborator: ceealaina Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: meet-cute, fluff, no powers Summary: No, a voice that sounded frighteningly like Pepper reminded him. It didn’t matter how angry he was at the board, how frustrating it was that they didn’t trust his ability. He couldn’t go around throwing M&Ms into the open mouths of strangers sleeping in his lobby. On the other hand, his company, his lobby. There was probably some kind of stipulation somewhere about sleeping in the lobby. Stark Industries can’t be held liable, blah, blah, blah. Tony’s hand moved almost outside of his control and he watched as the M&M made a perfect arc and – yes! – dropped perfectly into the waiting mouth of the man.  Word Count: 1217

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Title: Boys will be Boys Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K1 - weapon Ship: WinterFalcon/Reader, Wanda Maximoff & Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: none Summary: none Word Count: 900ish

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Title: Shifting Alliances (Remix) - Chapter 2 Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - Peggy Carter Ship: Bucky/fem!Howard Stark Rating: Teen Major Tags: canon-typical violence, mental & physical abuse Summary: The Soldier rebels, and Bucky finds his way back to Margaret, who is more than willing to aid in his defection. Word Count: 4448

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Title: The Ghost and The Machine - Chapter 16: What a Stunning Realization Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - image of happy, smiley Bucky Ship: Bucky & Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags: ghost Tony, spy Bucky, hospitalization, friendship confessions Summary: Bucky wakes up in the hospital, but something is missing. Word Count: 32,507

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Title: Mated - Chapter 4: Occupied Collaborator: ruckystarnes Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - Kink: Public Bathrooms Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, angst Summary: none Word Count: 3211

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Title: Mercenary Without A Soul Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - mercenary Ship: none Rating: Mature Major Tags: Major character deaths, assassins/hitmen, heavy angst, no happy ending, no comfort Summary: What if the Asset had succeeded in his mission, in killing Captain America?  What would have been left after Steve no longer breathed and Bucky had no reason to fight anymore? Word Count: 777

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Title: It Hurts to Remember Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K2 - newspaper clippings Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: none

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Title: Winter Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B3 - winter Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: drabble Summary: none Word Count: 100

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Title: New Beginning Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B1 - Out of Time Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble Summary: none Word Count: 100

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Title: all you need is love Collaborator: sleepoverwork Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Natasha Romanoff Ship: Bucky & Natasha & Avengers Rating: Gen Major Tags: platonic relationships, cuddling, misunderstandings, Avengers family fluff Summary: Natasha Romanoff and James Buchanan Barnes we're made from similar circumstances to be the best weapons they could be. They got out of that lifestyle for a reason. They have a long history together, an old one, and they're worn and drained from it.S o if they wanna snuggle and enjoy each other's company without it being a British Royal Marriage in the making, they've fucking earned it. Word Count: 905

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Title: Regret Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C4 - graveyard Ship: none Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: PTSD, Character deaths, guilt Summary: none Word Count: 100

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Title: Unintentional Goat Herder Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y1 - rearing goats Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: recovering Bucky, healing, PTSD, supportive Sam, angst, hopeful ending Summary: Bucky's in Wakanda, healing - trying to, anyway - but what's with all the goats? Word Count: 4149

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Title: One Good Memory Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U4 - BuckyNat Ship: Bucky/Nat Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: Mention of HYDRA and KGB, mention of torture and brainwashing Summary: none Word Count: 500ish

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Title: Worst Kept Secret Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y4 - secret relationship Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: Brief mention of sex Summary: none Word Count: 700ish

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Title: Understanding Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C1 - Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch Ship: WinterWitch Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: Mention of HYDRA, mention of torture and brainwashing, mention of character death(s) Summary: none Word Count: 600ish

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Title: Rebelmeg Drabbles - Chapter 6: Lighten Up Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Flash Square Filled: 4 - twinkle lights Ship: Bucky & Shuri Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble Summary: Shuri told Bucky to lighten up. He didn't. Word Count:100

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Title: Worrying for Two Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K4 - image of explosion Ship: WinterHawk/Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: injuries Summary: none Word Count: 1000ish

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Title: darling, it's hell out there - chapter 1 Collaborator: yuuki_illene Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y1 - zombies Ship: Bucky & Avengers Rating: Teen Major Tags: zombie apocalypse AU, angst, found family Summary: When the zombie apocalypse breaks out, a veteran has to do what he has to do -  Namely, find food and water, survive, and maybe, just maybe,Find a family and keep it even if the world is in the shits. Word Count: 2035

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Title: True Love Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K3 - WinterShield Ship: Stucky Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: none Summary: none Word Count: 800ish

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Title: Rebelmeg Drabbles - Chapter 7: Ice Cold Threats Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 4 - icicles Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble Summary: Icicles can definitely be used as stabbing implements. Word Count: 100

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Title: My Dearest Becca Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B2 - canon compliant Ship: none Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: drabble Summary: none Word Count: 100

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Title: 5 Times Bucky Barnes Fell, and 1 Time He Jumped Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: AO3 Squares Filled:        Prologue - U4: promise       1st - U5: hand-holding       2nd - Flash 1: snow       3rd - Flash 1: holiday party Ship: Bucky & Steve Rating: Gen Major Tags: Drabble sequence, 5+1 things, Bucky Barnes remembers Summary: He recognises the feeling. A swooping, dizzying, helplessness; panicked destabilisation. It has echoed in his mind, his body, for longer than his memories remain. Falling. He reaches out for something to hold onto. Word Count: 700

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Title: Rebelmeg Drabbles - Chapter 8: Bucky's New Home Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y3 - IMAGE: Bucky the Cat Ship: Bucky & Shuri Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble Summary: Bucky's hut in Wakanda comes with a few extras. Word Count: 100

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Title: Rebelmeg Drabbles - Chapter 9: Home and Safe Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - JARVIS Ship: Bucky & JARVIS Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble, nightmares Summary: When Bucky has nightmares, there's someone there to help him. Word Count: 100

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Collaborator: nashapixie Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Flash 4 - fire Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: After all those years enduring the cold and being frozen Bucky loves many warm things, like some hot chocolate and a comfy blanket next to the hearth’s fire, it helps keeping the bad memories away, especially on snowy winter days.

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Title: Scars Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - scars Ship: Bucky & Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Bucky recovering, Bucky feels, Tony has a heart, panic attack, scars, Stark family Summary: The road to recovery is long and hard, especially if the road behind you was a very dark one indeed. Sometimes it's hard for Bucky to remember he's not alone, and that he's sharing his road with people that care about him. Word Count: 3238

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Title: Undercover Collaborator: Gavilan Link: AO3 Square Filled: B4 - Undercover in a Gay Bar Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: undercover missions, queer history Summary: Bucky goes undercover. Tony is surprised. Word Count: 391

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Title: Soft Things Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Squares Filled:        Moodboard: C4 - comfort clothes        Fic: Flash 4 - shopping Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Bucky recovering, fluff Summary: Bucky has a secret. Just a little one. Word Count: 1101

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Title: Vilsen Collaborator: lostinthoughtsandfeelings Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - present tense Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: angst, post-breakup, pining, some nsfw Summary: If we are Done! why am I still, Lost without you? Word Count: 3957

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Title: Blood on Snow Collaborator: Judy_The_Dreamer Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: Pepper & Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags: mention of past torture and abuse, instability, heavy angst, flashbacks, unhappy ending, open ending Summary: The Soldier has a mission, but the past is slowing him down.  Same universe as On a Dark Road. Word Count: 632

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Title: Uncle Jamie's Babysitting Misadventures - Chapter 2: Ice Cream Collaborator: Judy_The_Dreamer Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y3 - Request/Demand Ship: Bucky & Darcy, Peter, and Tony Rating: Gen Major Tags: kid fic, babysitting, Stark family Summary: Uncle Bucky receives a special request. Word Count: 862

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Title: Whistle through gritted teeth Collaborator: menatiera, rebelmeg Link: AO3 Squares Filled:       Menatiera: C5 - Rebecca Barnes       rebelmeg: U2 - Hand Holding Ship: BuckyNat Rating: Teen Major Tags: Bucky recovering, comics/movie mashup, family reunion, hurt/comfort Summary: The Asset and the Black Widow have escaped the Red Room together.  Now, James tries to gather the remnants of his history and humanity. The next step of his journey, with Natalia at his side: coming face-to-face with the sister he'd forgotten he had, Rebecca Barnes. Word Count: 2800

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Title: Miscalculation Collaborator: Judy_The_Dreamer Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Wintershieldshock (Steve/Bucky/Darcy) Ship: WinterShieldShock Rating: Mature Major Tags: heavy angst, desperation, unhappy ending Summary: Steve thought bringing the two people he loved together would be easy. It wasn't. Word Count: 286

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Title: Super Soldier Oops Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y2 - super soldier serum Ship: Bucky, Tony, & JARVIS Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: none

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Title: I were never good at fixing, but I give it my best Collaborator: Fighting_for_creativity Link: AO3 Square Filled: U4 - Fix It Ship: Romanogers, Stony, Stucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: platonic soulmates, grieving, open ending Summary: Steve can't handle Natasha's and Tony's deaths. Bucky may knows a solution. Word Count: 737

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Title: Midnight Cuddles Collaborator: Gavilan Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free square Ship: Bucky & Natasha & Tony Rating: Gen Major Tags: nightmares, cuddling, platonic relationships, fluff, found family Summary: Bucky can't sleep. Luckily, he's not alone. Word Count: 847

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Title: Bucky Barnes Bingo flash holiday card 4 Collaborator: nashapixie Link: Tumblr Flash Square Filled: 4 - shopping Ship: hinted WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: drabble Summary: none Word Count: 100

[itscooltobefanficy]

Feeling Alive- Part 13

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Part 1 (Slow Hands)

Part 2 (Stay)

Part 3 (There Will Come a Time)

Part 4 (Weapon of Choice)

Part 5 (Came Here For Love)

Part 6 (Where the Sky Hangs)

Part 7 (When Can I See You Again?)

Part 8 (Manhattan)

Part 9 (Skip To The Good Bit)

Part 10 (Poison & Wine)

Part 11 (Clean)

Part 12 (Where To Start)

Second Chances

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 14/17: Second Chances

Word count: 2829

Warnings: Maybe a bit of swearing? Idk guys I’m so tired

OK... First things first THANK! YOU! ALL! In my head I refer to you all as The Ace Gang because you are all ace and I enjoy making references to British teen literature but the main thing to take from that is that you are ACE. And WONDERFUL. And AMAZING. And I’m running out of superlatives, so have a heart <333 Second things second... IT’S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN (nuh nuh nuuh nuh). This chapter, one sort of chapter that’s barely long enough to count but doesn’t fit anywhere else, then the final 4k plus monster (I haven’t actually finished writing it yet but nm) and then the epilogue!!! Third things third I have (with little fanfare) opened requests. So if that’s a thing you’re interested in you know where to find me. OK. That’s everything. Let’s go.

“You took him back?!”

You look sternly at Wanda. “No. I just… I couldn’t throw it away completely. But I’m taking things even slower than before. We’re not even texting.”

It’s true. You’d been walked back to your flat last night by Sam (singing loudly) and Nat (singing even louder), leaving Bucky to deal with Steve. Judging by the glower on Bucky’s face, that had not been set to be a fun conversation. Regardless, this morning you still have nothing more to say to him. This second chance is a tentative, cautious thing- walking across thin, fracturing ice, or leaning out over a precipice with nothing but the wind to hold you back- and your instinct is to withdraw.

Wanda appraises you over the rim of her mug. “You really like this guy.”

“I really liked this guy,” You clarify. “But now…”

A phone trills, and Wanda grimaces as you deal with the squirming mass of emotion in your stomach.

“Sorry, Y/N, do you mind if I take this?”

You wave her ahead, and she lifts the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Leo, what’s up?”

You raise an eyebrow. Leo is your current partner in the Advanced class: loud, cheerful and with a good sense of humour, he’s been the perfect antidote to the past few weeks. OK, he’s not as good as Wanda- but to make the troupe even, she needs to take on the follow role for the competition.  The lady herself shoots you a don’t ask me look as she listens to Leo down the phone. Then, in an instant, her expression clouds over.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that, Leo. Are you sure-? OK. OK, thanks for letting me know. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you. Alright, bye.” She ends the call, then gives a dramatic groan. You don’t even have to say anything; she sighs and begins to explain.

“Leo’s datemate has just been made redundant. He’s moving down there for a couple of weeks, just while they get back on their feet, but it’s a four-hour drive from here. He called to say he’s dropping out of the competition.” Wanda’s mouth twists, and you frown in sympathy.

“Damn. Can’t you ask Pietro?” Wanda’s brother might not class himself as a dancer, but his natural athleticism and years of exposure to his sister’s training have made him more than capable of picking up routines, and he’s stepped in more than once to fill up the troupe. Wanda, however, shakes her head.

“He’s got a triathlon that day.” She buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled and furious. “I’m doomed. We’re going to lose to Vision before we even start.”

You try not to smirk at her mention of Luiz (who happens to be hosting the afterparty, and if you can’t engineer a situation that ends in the two of them dating you will be forced to admit defeat and eat your leggings), and instead try to think of a solution. Wanda’s right- you can’t perform the routine with one lead down. The dynamics, the symmetry, the impact would all be lost. You need… Someone to step in.

Someone who has experience.

Someone who understands how the troupe operates.

Someone who’s even practiced some of the routine before.

It’s your turn to groan.

“Hm?” Wanda lifts her head as you reach for your phone.

“Don’t thank me yet,” You mutter.

Y: Nat, can you send me Bucky’s number?

Wanda’s eyes go very wide (reading your screen, rude). “You’re not.”

“You need another lead,” You say, tightly. “And I happen to know of one.”

Before Wanda can retort, your phone chimes.

N: You deleted his number wow

N: good for you

N: Here it is

The contact is attached to the last message.

Y: Did he kill Steve?

N: nah

N: their friendship is too weird for that

N: now fuck off I’m too hungover for your relationship crisis

You snort.

Y: Yes ma’am

Then, before you can lose your nerve, you tap the contact she sent you and hit call. Your stomach twists and rolls as you lift your phone to your ear.

“Y/N?” Bucky sounds… rough. You hate how the gravel in his voice sends a flush crawling to your cheeks. “You OK?”

Something clenches in your heart. He thinks the only reason you’d call him is if you were in trouble, if you absolutely had to; how far away you are from the easy, wonderful familiarity you used to share.

Mind you, he’s not wrong.

“Hey,” You say, then have no idea how to continue. “Um. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” The rhythms of teasing one another come back to you slowly. “You know. You sound like you’ve been gargling granite or something.”

Bucky’s laughter sounds surprised, as though he hadn’t expected you to joke. To be fair, neither had you. “Ah, the party may have got a little out of hand.”

“Nat did mention something to that effect.”

“Nat?”

Internally, you curse. You’ve fallen into that one. Swallowing, you press on. “Yeah. I had to ask her for your number.”

There’s a momentary silence. The reminder of all the broken, hateful things you said last night is thrown into sharp relief in your mind, and you hover, uncertain how to find your way back to safe ground.

“Right.” Bucky’s voice sounds forced, but at least he’s brave enough to say something. “I don’t think she’s feeling too good this morning.”

You snort, relieved. “No. Anyway,” You muster your courage, “I actually called you to ask for a favour.”

There’s another pause. You cringe, waiting for Bucky to tell you that it’s a bit early for that, or even that it’s verging on hypocritical to ask for his help now-

“Anything. Anything within reason.” His addition is no hasty backtrack; it’s slow, reasoned. Automatic. Your heart swoops, even as your eyes widen in shock.

“Um. Thank you,” You manage. “There’s no fire involved, or parachuting, I promise.”

“Knives?” Bucky’s tone is now wry, and you laugh.

“No knives.”

“That’s within reason,” He replies, and you can feel your shoulders slump in relief. “Now, what actually is this favour?”

You take a deep breath. “The thing is… Wanda needs another dancer. Another lead. For our competition next weekend. Somebody’s had to drop out, and I wouldn’t have asked you if there was any other way- I know you’re busy, and-”

“Hey. Y/N?” You stop midsentence. Bucky sounds, if anything, amused. “It’s OK. I’ll do it.”

“You will? I mean,” You swiftly change tack, not wanting to be any ruder than you already have been, “Thank you.”

“Like I said, it’s OK. When’s the next rehearsal?”

You check your watch and grimace. “In about half an hour.”

A complaint would be reasonable, but Bucky merely says, “OK. See you there,” And hangs up.

You manage to avoid looking at Wanda for approximately ten seconds before she pokes you, hard, in the arm.

“So?!”

You wince, then glare at her. “This still may be the most terrible idea I’ve ever had.”

Wanda tilts her head to one side, a small smile playing around her mouth. “We’ll see. We shall see.”

~~

You’ve noticed over the years that when you get nervous, you forget how to just be. Your attention snags on silly details: how you’re standing, where you’re looking, whether or not you’re frowning. And, waiting for Bucky to arrive at Scarlet Studios, you’re more nervous than you can remember being in a long time.

Pepper lays a calming hand on your shoulder. “Don’t fret. He’ll be here.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You hiss, and tug absentmindedly at your t-shirt.

“I can still punch him.” Clint isn’t smiling; it’s not a joke. Sighing, you shake your head. Clint had been the least convinced that Bucky should even be allowed in the same building as you, never mind crashing your practice. That’s not to say that a small part of you wouldn’t like Clint to punch him. It’s just that-

The door swings open, and Bucky slides inside.

All of your insides seem to drop through the floor. His hair looks wet: he probably got up and got straight in the shower after you’d called him. Just watching the way he moves sends sparks crackling up your throat.

“What do I say?” You spin around, panicking, and Pepper now gives you a gentle shove.

“It doesn’t matter.” She smiles encouragingly. Clint looks over at Bucky and snorts.

“You could read him your grocery list and he’d listen happily,” He mutters, and you glare.

“Not. Helpful.”

“Y/N?”

You whip back around. Bucky’s right there, expression cautious, hand resting on the strap of his bag.

“Hey,” You say, emotions fighting for control of your voice. Then a thought occurs to you, and you take a step forward. “I can’t believe I haven’t asked you this yet, but did you get in? Did they take you?”

His face undergoes a beautiful transformation, melting into relief, into hopefulness. Your heart squeezes.

“Yeah. Yeah, they did.”

A smile fights its way out across your mouth. You can’t go closer, not yet- but you can be happy for him. “Well done. I- I really mean it.”

Bucky’s eyes become unbearably soft. “Thank you.”

Then, thank God, Wanda claps her hands. “Get over here, you lot! Does it look like I don’t have better things to do?”

“We know you don’t,” Clint yells, and she gives him the finger in return- but everyone jogs over to her.

“Listen up, we’ve had a last minute change for the competition at Vision Studios next week! Everyone, you remember James?” You look to your left and find him standing to one side, looking a little awkward. It’s jarring to hear his name after so long: like it’s a reminder of those first, tentative steps you took towards friendship. You hastily look back at Wanda. “Unfortunately, Leo can no longer make the competition, so James will be taking his spot. I expect you all to help him out so that we can kick ass!”

“Understood,” You mutter, and Wanda shoots you a grin.

“Alright! To make it a little easier on you, James, we’ll go over the routines you’ve already learned: Stay, Weapon of Choice and So Good. I’ll help you all out with the transitions. Move it!”

“Start off in three lines,” You say out of the corner of your mouth, as the others automatically file into position, “Over here.” The two of you walk to your mark, halfway down the middle row. “How much can you remember?”

Bucky’s shoulders visibly relax. “I might struggle with a lot of things,” He smirks, “But remembering routines isn’t one of them.”

You roll your eyes, then crouch down into your starting pose. “OK, genius, whatever you say.” And before he can retort, the music starts.

~~

He’s not wrong. Not once does he stumble, or wobble, or lag behind the beat. It’s almost unfair how easy he makes it look. You go through the motions almost carelessly in comparison; being thrown back together so suddenly has made you feel awkward, verging on clumsy. You make are no mistakes, but every time the routine forces you into Bucky’s personal space, you have to keep yourself from leaning back.

Still, you make it to the end of the rehearsal. When you can finally step away and put a little distance between yourself and Bucky, you feel a tangible wave of relief. You hadn’t realised how much still lay between you, despite your conversation last night. When you finally catch a glimpse of his expression, however, the disappointment in it makes your stomach drop a few inches.

“Bucky,” You say, impulsively, “Do you want to go get a coffee?”

He turns to look at you. “Now?”

All of a sudden, it seems like a stupid idea. “Sorry. I know you’re busy, and I dragged you out here in the first place-”

“No.” He cuts you off, his face suddenly hopeful. “No, coffee would be great.”

You catch Clint signing something over Bucky’s shoulder, and have to employ a great deal of effort refraining from rolling your eyes. Told you so.

Then you remember to smile. “OK. I’ll- um-”

“Stretch? Don’t tell me you’ve been slacking.” Something seems to have eased in Bucky’s face, and his teasing is comfortable, gentle. You really do roll your eyes this time.

“Fine.” Things aren’t quite relaxed enough to joke about whether you really should have invited him to practice, so you decide to drop gracelessly to the floor and start stretching. Truth be told, you have been stretching- but only because Wanda threatened to string you up above the studio door if you stopped. When you tell Bucky as much, he laughs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh properly since everything fell apart: it’s equal parts intoxicating and devastating.

Ten minutes later, the two of you wander into a coffee shop down the road and snag a small table by the window. Being in such close (and, more specifically, date-like) proximity has the immediate effect of stifling all your conversational powers. You nervously push the wooden stirrer around your mug and chew your lower lip.

“So?”

You look up and find Bucky watching you. Unsure, you shrug. “So?”

His mouth twitches. “So.”

Leaning forwards, you blow on your drink. “So.”

“So.”

A snicker bursts out of you. “Look, we can’t substitute the word so for an actual conversation.”

The raised eyebrow. Idly, you reflect that the raised eyebrow will probably be the death of you.

“Can’t we?”

“No.” You try to sound firm. “Because I said so.”

“Because you said so.” His words dissolve into a smile, and you grin despite yourself.

“You’re…” You trail off. The fear of saying something hurtful blocks your throat. Your noble intentions mean fuck all to me…

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice is light, but a serious undercurrent tugs at his words. “You can still insult me, you know. I feel like that’s a key component of our relationship.”

“God. That sounds awful.” You speak without thinking, then wince. ”I didn’t mean-” You take a deep breath. Now is probably the moment. “I just- I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Thanks. But- I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

You stare at him. It’s his turn to shrug. “I fucked up.”

“I mean- yeah. But, so did I.” Your thoughts have been clarifying over the past hour, and now you’re ready to explain. “I completely cut you off after the worst day of your life.” Bucky looks like he’s going to interrupt, but you shake your head and carry on. “OK, you started it. But I automatically assumed that you’d bailed on me.”

“Which I had-”

“But if I’d called you, five days or a week or whenever, would you have picked up?”

Bucky stares at you for a moment. Then he deflates.

“I… I don’t know. Probably. Even in the back of my mind, at that party, I wondered if you might be there. If I might run into you.”

You snort. “You did more than that.”

His grin is wry. “True.”

“Anyway, the point is that I overreacted. You overreacted. I guess I was already worried that you were going to drop me when you got signed-” The confession is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and Bucky stares at you with the exact kicked-puppy expression you’d hoped to avoid.

“Wait, what?”

You grimace, helplessly. “When you got signed by a company. I figured you’d… Move on.”

To your relief, Bucky’s expression of concern fades into one of exasperation. “Of course not.” He gives a little laugh. “You really thought that?”

“Yep.” You feel yourself relaxing, and your voice loosens up as your breathing comes easier. “And this is what I mean! If I’d just talked to you about it-”

“No, no I should have realised-”

“No, you shouldn’t.” You say it with a fair amount of force, and Bucky draws up short. “You’re not a mind-reader. Neither am I. We just… We should just talk. I think that’s what this whole spiel has been about.”

You take a large sip of your drink and stare hurriedly out of the window. The conviction in your voice surprised even you. Bucky, however, is looking at you like you’ve just discovered sliced bread.

“You’re serious?” His question is slow, like he can’t really believe it. “You’re prepared to give this another shot?”

You tilt your head, chewing your lower lip. “I… didn’t say that. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to accept all the blame.”

And yeah, another shot isn’t off the cards. But saying that feels like too great a leap of faith, so you stay silent as Bucky nods his understanding.

“OK.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then he smirks. “So…”

You don’t even hesitate before leaning over and hitting him with a napkin.

AN: We did it!!! We’re on the road to the finish line. I would like to take this usual opportunity to thank you all- The Ace Gang, you are the best- and @systemfailuresunshine who I am missing a great deal thanks to stupid time zones. She is, as I have said many times, the reason this exists. Now, don’t hold me to this, but I will *try* to post a chapter a day until we’re done. I will try. I send you all of the love and hugs.

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Part 14