#i typically keep track of the last time i felt truly happy because it happens so rarely

[keehomania]

frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

[internetgremlin-writes]

hi 🫶🏼 what a weekend to be a carlos sainz fan! so incredibly happy about everything because he deserves it. I am happy you are accepting request for the man of the weekend so I would like to request this:

carlos is starting to feel the pressure of the weekend with winning pole and being on the edge of winning his first race that he is starting to doubt about his abilities and himself, so he asks to put the reader through the radio so he can listen to her voice and words of encouragement.

I hope its not that cheesy lmao. truly throttled book vibes but I would like to read something like this with carlos. thank you!!!!!! 🫶🏼 ps: can’t wait for a flat spin update hihihi. happy sunday!

WHAT A WEEKEND RIGHT? Will I ever recover from this? Probably not. In my books he deserves the WORLD

Warnings: wee bit angsty, but then we get to the good stuff

I have not read throttled yet simply bc i cannot find a cheap copy anywhere and it's so high on my reading list its making me sad. BUT THIS is such a good concept. If you didn't enjoy the level of drama in the last 20 laps I'm sorry but you're gonna have to go through it again

Carlos was panicking.

He felt the furthest thing from calm and in control, he had the whole weekend. And that was saying something, given his accidental pole (okay, it wasn't an accident but Carlos really did think that lap was nothing special, and he was still reeling from the shock of hearing that "P1" down the radio) and then the mess that had been the race so far.

It hadn't started great, and not that Carlos ever enjoyed red flags like that, not when he spent most of the time in the pits feeling silently sick in his worry for his fellow driver's health, but he was grateful it had happened early enough to allow him a restart from his pole. That meant he hadn't lost to Max straight away. Carlos always said he was fighting for the win, but he knew that when it came to raw speed the Ferrari typically paled in comparison to the Red Bull, but still, it would have been embarrassing to have had the lead snatched from him in the first corner.

So he got his restart, and that went well. He kept his lead for a few laps and was settling into his race proper, feeling like he was handling the pressure from Max behind him well until he found himself off track and Max was in front of him. And okay it wasn't ideal but it was fine, but there were still the pit stops and if he could stay within DRS- and then Max was slowing down and he was back in the lead and he couldn't quite believe his luck.

And it had been going so well until Charles came on the radio saying he was better and faster and Carlos knew he wasn't entirely wrong. He liked the car best on soft tyres and the mediums hadn't felt great but after his swap to hards, he felt like he was driving on ice. So forgive him for doing his best to keep his lead by not throwing the car into a barrier. He didn't have time to register the team orders until he'd already slowed and Charles was past him, streaking off into the distance and leaving nothing but a bitter taste in Carlos' mouth.

And then he was in P3, and that shiny trophy with a number one on it was slipping further and further from his view and Carlos found himself driving with nothing but despair and hopeless desperation pushing him on. He figured the faster he could get it over with the better; the sooner he could be at the hotel with you, and you would stroke his hair and hold him close and tell him all the nice things he didn't think he deserved to hear when he couldn't bear to even look at the smaller awards he'd been bringing home recently.

The yellow flag felt like a golden ticket. Especially when he found himself pitting ahead of Hamilton, and finally he was on soft tyres and the car was snapping up into his hands the way he liked it and that fire was back and Carlos felt ready to charge.

"When the green flag comes, let Charles go. We need you at least 10 car paces behind him to hold them off,"

Hold them off? Carlos felt himself spiralling. Why did they give him the soft tyres to offer him up like a sacrificial lamb for slaughter? This wasn't Monaco - he couldn't block the whole road. If he hung back to try and give Charles the lead he'd be eaten alive, there was no way he could keep the one-two podium hopes up. Hamilton and Perez were already too close for comfort, jostling in his mirrors, and behind that, he'd noticed Alonso sneaking into the mix.

Carlos wasn't above begging. He didn't like how his voice was cracking, but there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't like how he was suddenly struggling with his English, it made him sound dumb when he was trying to outsmart his strategist. He couldn't lose the win - not like this. Not on shitty team orders that didn't have a hope of working. It wasn't even a case of pride, he'd argue, it was just wrong. It wasn't racing.

"I need-" there was only a lap left under the safety car. "Guys c'mon,"

"Ten car lengths, no more between you,"

"I want to talk to Y/N,"

"Carlos-"

"I have a lap of safety car left,"

Carlos had no idea what he was doing. He was frightened, his mind racing and his chest was tightening. He was suddenly aware of every ache in his body, how tired he was. The only thing he could picture was you, he had to talk to you. He felt very much like a child in a go-kart, who didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to just take the win being offered up to him.

"Carlos? It's Y/N," you sounded different on the radio, but it was you. Already he was breathing easier. Your voice was warm, tinged with concern but not worry. You were steady, calm. You were an anchor in this mess.

"Amor," he breathed, not caring who this was being broadcasted to.

"Hi," you softened at the nickname. He could imagine the way your eyes shone and your smile relaxed and you would lean into him as you relaxed. He felt himself responding reflexly.

"Tell me not to do it," he sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "You say follow orders, and I'll lose. No questions. You tell me to fight, then I go,"

"Carlos-"

"I don't have time. I don't know what it looks like outside. But I can't lose because I'm told to, not unless you trust them. You trust - you tell me to listen, then I lose for you,"

"They're telling me to tell you safety car is ending in 30 seconds,"

"Tell me what to do!" He cried. He didn't mean to sound snappy, but there was no time to think, and all Carlos needed in that moment was your opinion. He trusted you more than anyone, even if you weren't a strategist, you would never let him suffer for nothing. You were smart and that was enough. He saw the ten-second warning.

"Y/N!"

"Win for me,"

It was all he needed to hear. Charles shot forward in front of him and without giving a moment's hesitation, Carlos hit the throttle too. He didn't care how much trouble he would be in later with the team, he was a new man. With the soft tyres playing into his driving style exactly as he needed them to and your voice ringing in his ears, the fire in his belly rose back from the ashes and the only thing that mattered was crossing that line first.

It was almost too easy to take Charles. He could hear a radio complaint, but he didn't care. There was no way Charles could hold the lead on used hard tyres and with the damaged wing, Carlos could. Charles could at least try to fight for a second.

He felt fast too, finally felt good.

When he saw the flag he thought it was a dream. His engineer gave a curt well done, but Carlos didn't care. He was feeling so many things he didn't feel anything at all. And then you were back, screaming, down the radio at him and Carlos was grinning and shouting back because he won.

"For you!" He managed, voice thick and eyes wet as everything sank in all at once. "I won for you!"

"I love you!"

Carlos almost crashed the car. You'd been together for the best part of a year now, but between long-distance stints and the steady start, you'd not said it out loud to each other yet.

"I love you too!" He heard you let out a small sob down the radio, and somewhere in the back of his mind the thought about how much the Netflix team would love this.

He thought he was floating on the podium. He couldn't contain his grin, and the sight of you right at the front of the barrier, in his Ferrari jumper and flushed, tear-stained cheeks was enough to keep the look he'd gotten from Mattia as he clapped him on the shoulder on his way to the cool-down room at the back of his mind.

Besides, he had a few ideas of how he could avoid the team meeting for a little bit longer and most of them involved you, more champagne and his driver's room where the door woud lock.

[valwentinefics]

Altruism Ch. 3 - Zemo x F!reader x Bucky

A/n: So this chapter isn’t the best but I thought I’d give you Bucky fans something. I am benevolent. I can’t wait till I don’t have to type out what the characters say word for word in the show, its torture.

Warnings: Cannon typical violence

Translations: Liebling (Darling)

Series Masterlist

Madripoor - 2024

Y/n’s mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as the group walked down the hall, her hand still intertwined with Zemo’s. She longed to go to Bucky, to ask if he was okay and help him through whatever thoughts were bound to be swirling through his head right now, but she knew she couldn’t, it would jeopardize the whole mission. She was grateful to at least have Zemo to cling onto, despite her feelings about the man. His cool, confident demeanor was comforting to her during this time and his warm hand wasn’t that unpleasant to hold.

“You should know Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Stated a short white haired woman who lounged on a snakeskin patterned couch. Her presence was intimidating, Y/n felt uncomfortable being around her.

“Not a demand, an offer.” Zemo stated, sitting down in a chair and pulling Y/n into his lap which startled her. “Keep with the act Liebling.” He mumbled into Y/n’s ear. She wasn’t sure what he had called her, she had to remember to ask him what it meant later.

“A lot has changed since you were last here.” Selby glanced over to Bucky who was doing his best stoic stare. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” He paused, looking smug. “I’m sure you already know what I’m here for.”

Selby seemed to be stalling, pointing to Sam. “You’re taller than I’ve heard, Smiling tiger.” Sam replied with a nod as always. Y/n considered herself lucky, unlike Bucky and Sam, attention was never on her, she just had to sit there and look pretty. However, that thought jinxed her.

“And who’s the girl? Never thought you were the meek and pretty type Baron.” She commented on Y/n’s frightened demeanor.

Zemo’s arm wrapped tighter around Y/n’s waist “I just call her my little bunny. But Selby, to what we were discussing.” Zemo said, putting the conversation back on track.

“Right then, what’s the offer?” She asked, looking around the room, her eyes lingering on Bucky.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo gestured to Bucky. “Along with the code words to control him of course.”

A mischievous grin spread on her face, sending a chill down Y/n’s spine. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. The serum is here in Madripoor, Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you’d want to thank, or condemn. He was working on it for the power broker but things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Asked Zemo. Somehow his confident and cool demeanor never faltered. Y/n had to admit, in a way the man was quite attractive with the way he managed to navigate the criminal underworld without batting an eye.

“Oh” she said with mock sadness “The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost ya’ Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” She got up and began to approach Y/n and Zemo. The tense moment was interrupted by the ringing of Sam’s phone. “Answer it.” 

Sam tapped on his phone, a woman's voice coming out of it, the words she spoke making Y/n’s blood run cold. “Hey Sam-” Quickly Sam hung up, but not before the damage had been done.

“Sam? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby commanded, that same instant a bullet came flying through the window and into her chest, a choked noise coming from her as she collapsed to the floor. 

Y/n sprung up as Sam and Bucky fought the guards, swiftly disarming them with precision. Bucky looked through the scope of the gun he had taken, looking around with the precise caution of a hawk. Y/n moved closer to him, not wanting to be near Zemo any longer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being around him, it was the opposite. She found his touch comforting, and she knew she had to stay away for that reason.

“They’re gonna pin this on us!” Sam worried, standing by the door and gripping his gun. 

Zemo only sighed. “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Y/n was confused. Leave their weapons?  How would they defend themselves? Nonetheless Sam and Bucky did as they were told.

The sound of cellphones chiming rang out all around them as they quickly walked down the street. Y/n’s nerves were acting up, her whole body feeling as if it was in fight or flight mode. She was scared of what would happen next, never before had she been the target in a battle. They had just crossed under a bridge when a few lights went out without warning. Y/n looked at her comrades with a panicked look, moments before gunshots rang throughout the area. 

Zemo grabbed Y/n’s hand, pulling her away from the others. She stumbled after him as fast as she could, lucky she was somewhat adept at running in heels. Her breath was heavy as she resisted the urge to look back, her body aching to run after wherever Bucky and Sam went. Roughly Y/n was pushed against a wall in an alley, Zemo’s warm body flesh against her own. His breath was hot against her neck as they hid in the shadows until a set of headlights passed by. She barely had time to catch her breath before she was pulled away again. Zemo pulled a gun out of his coat as Sam and Bucky grew closer, shooting a man who was approaching them. Y/n watched in shock as he slumped to the ground. Two more men approached from the shadows, Y/n ran over to Bucky and tucked herself behind him, squeezing her eyes shut in fear before the sound of two more gunshots rang out. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, seeing the two men now dead.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Said Zemo, alarm showing on his face.

“Well this is too perfect!” A feminine voice stated, Y/n’s eyes widening as she realized it was Sharon Carter.

-

Sharon Carter was kind of awful now, but Y/n couldn’t complain as the woman agreed to help them out after she had the situation explained to her. Now Y/n and Bucky were alone in her apartment above her art gallery as a party raged downstairs. Zemo and Sam had been happy for the chance to let loose after everything that had happened and opted to join the party while Sharon looked for information. Y/n was glad to be out of that godforsaken dress and instead in an outfit of her choosing, no longer feeling like she was flashing someone every time she moved.

Y/n sat down next to Bucky on the green couch, leaning into him slightly. He didn’t seem to mind it, his arm resting around her body comfortably. Unlike Sam and Zemo, Bucky didn’t want to indulge himself in a fun night after the events that had happened earlier, and so as a good friend Y/n decided to stay with him to make sure he was okay.

“Bucky, how are you feeling?” Y/n broke the silence between the two, angling her body to face him.

“Fine… I’m fine.” He smiled at her, although Y/n could see through his façade.

“You don’t need to lie. What you had to do must have brought up a lot of feelings. You don't need to explain them to me, I just want to check up on you.” She looked at the man who’s steely blue eyes were filled with a deep sorrow she couldn’t even imagine feeling. Part of her wanted to hold him close, to let him know he’s loved and cared for, but she didn’t want to overstep right now.

Bucky exhaled, looking away. “I think Steve was wrong about me. Maybe I am just a monster.” His voice cracked as he explained, holding back tears. Bucky’s fear of being nothing but a coldblooded killer was a frequent discussion between the two during late night talks where they poured their hearts out to each other in Y/n’s apartment. So although this thought came as no surprise to Y/n, it still hurt her to see her friend and slight crush feel that way. “It was so easy to fall back into being the Winter Soldier… maybe it's because even after all this time that's who I still am. A killer.” He looked at his gloved metal hand with a sorrowful glare.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his thigh, moving his gaze from his hand to Y/n, his eyes searching her face for comfort. “Bucky, that’s not who you are. You call yourself a monster but you’re the most caring and kind man I know.”

“I saw how you looked at me Y/n, you were terrified. You were clinging onto Zemo as if you were scared I lost control.�� He looked away from her and down at the floor. “You’re the person I care for most now that Steve’s gone, and you were scared of me. I never wanted you to have to see me like that.”

Guilt bit at Y/n, blaming herself for her friend's state. “Yes I was scared. I was scared you would lose control, that you would revert back to the Winter Soldier. My fear was for you, not of you.” She explained. “Bucky, I could never truly be scared of you. Those late nights where we would watch movies or listen to music and just talk about our lives mean so much to me. I know you’re good in your heart, remember when I healed the wounds the Wakandans couldn’t fully fix before you went under again? If I thought you were a monster I wouldn’t have done that, I wouldn’t have wanted to handle your pain for you. But I knew you weren’t a monster, nothing you did was your fault. I know it, Sam knows it, hell even Zemo knows it! And Bucky, I’ll be here for you until you realize it too.” She held his hand between hers, her eyes studying the side of his face.

“Y/n.. I need to tell you something. I-” Bucky began hesitantly, only to pause when Sharon entered the room looking proud.

“Guys we’ve got to go, I found some information about the serum.” She said. The pair stood up, following her to find Zemo and Sam.

The question of what Bucky was going to say hung in Y/n’s mind as she navigated through the crowd of people, her hand reaching for Bucky’s to ensure she wouldn’t get lost. His hand firmly wrapped around hers, giving it a small squeeze as to let her know he would always be there for her. Through the security and safety she felt just by holding his hand, Y/n realized she didn’t need to find out what he was going to say right away. The two would have all the time in the world to tell each other things, because she knew Bucky would never let go, and she never wanted him to.

-

@yaskna​ @noavengers​ @lostghostgirl94​ @whatawildone​ @lady-latte​ @chipster-21​ @viviace​ @writeroutoftime​ @spookycereal-s​ @nadder37 @ajeff855​ @safiakillspop​ @thiccmemechicc​ @sgold If I missed you, added you on accident, or you would like to be added/removed let me know!

[theonewiththefanfics]

Come Back To Me (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has gone through hell and back to reach his happiness, and his happiness came in the form of the love of his life. But what happens when she’s ripped away? What happens when she comes back and can no longer be happy herself? How does he get her back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: AAAAANNNNNGGGGGSSSTTT, sooooo much angst. Lil bit of fluff as well (also, we’re gonna pretend like Endgame didn’t really happen, and WandaVision wasn’t as emotionally devastating), smut

Warnings: extreme sadness, depression, refusal to eat, unprotected sex, allusion to ra*e, but not the act. if there is anything else, please let me know and message me :) (MINIMALLY EDITED)

Word count: 9301 (it gon be a ride)

Bucky’s been scared many times in his life before. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but most of the time, even as the Winter Soldier, he was terrified. Afraid to fail and of the consequences that would follow, afraid to succeed and have another person’s blood on his hands, afraid to look in the mirror, for the face staring back at him wasn’t quite his own, and even afraid to sleep in the dark, terrified the spirits of his victims would come out for revenge. But he’s never been as scared as he was in that moment, pointing a gun at the head of the love of his life, while she did the same, only without any clue as to who Bucky was.

           His mind was still processing how they’d gotten in that position, and it refused to accept it, because nothing, not a single thing had clued him in on how that day could turn south so quickly.

           It had started off as usual with Bucky’s flesh hand sliding down Y/N’s naked spine, as she had her face pressed against his toned chest, small snores escaping into the air, while a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth.

           Bucky couldn’t help the smile lifting up his lips. It was moments like those, he believed in good things. 5 AM, the New York sky dark and without a trace of morning light probably until 8 AM, with his favourite person in the world pressed up against his side, soaking up his warmth, leeching it off without any shame after having been satisfied (or at least he hoped so) by his tongue, fingers and, well, other things as well.

           Y/N shifted a bit, trailing her palm up to his abs and settling in the middle of his chest to feel his strong heartbeat. Bucky laid his palm over hers. Even in her sleep, she didn’t hesitate to entwine their fingers and bring them under her chin, closer to her, as if she needed him next to her at all times.

           He felt bad, he truly did, as he squeezed Y/N’s side, making her frown. “You gotta wake up, dollface. We gotta get ready.”

           “Dunantdo,” she mumbled, and if Bucky hadn’t been there to take care of her drunken ass more times than he could count, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher her slurred words as “don’t want to.”

           “I know.” He chuckled. “And believe me, there’s nothing in this world I’d wanna do more than lay here with you… well maybe go down on you a few more times at some point as well, but the mission won’t happen on its own.”

           Bucky felt her chest rumble against his, as she laughed. “Oh, I wouldn���t mind you going down on me, mission and all.” Her words were clearer, but still laced with sleep, and muffled by his skin while he felt her calves run against his as she stretched out.

           “I know you don’t. The missing hair chunks on my head prove that.”

           “Hey!” she slapped his chest but soothing it immediately blearily looking at him with a pout. “I didn’t pull that hard!”

           “I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “In fact, if you ever stop doing that, I will make sure you regret it, but unfortunately we don’t have time for a rendezvous. Jet’s gonna be ready in an hour.”

           Finally, after having accepted the fact she won’t get any more sleep, Y/N lifted herself to rest on her elbow right next to Bucky’s ribs and opened her Y/E/C sleep-filled eyes to look into his cerulean ones. “We can still squeeze in a quickie if we hop into the shower together.”

           “We can,” Bucky hummed, metal fingers lifting up to cup her cheek and place a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “But you know a quickie for us is never quick.”

           Y/N let out a scoff and pushed away from their fluffy duvet, making her shiver as she placed her feet on the cold floor. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one with the super-soldier stamina.”

           “And you,” he pinched her ass making her squeal before giving him the middle finger and taking the red Henley she’d so happily taken off his body the night before only to put it on herself, “are the completely irresistible one. Can you blame me for wanting to spend eternity between those two legs in every way possible?”

           The smile she threw him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked, but instead of joining him in the warm embrace of the bed, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. “Keep talking, Mr Charmer. Might just get you what you want.”

           Bucky was happy about having super speed as well with how quickly he hopped out of the bed and pressed her against the cold tile wall.

           ***

           Much to Steve’s annoyance, although they were barely fifteen minutes late, Bucky and Y/N were late, and when he saw the smug grins both of them sported, he genuinely thought his eyes would get stuck at the back of his head with the hard roll he gave to them.

           “As a new policy,” he started, flipping over the mission file, “I’m putting you two on a celibate streak.”

           Y/N raised an eyebrow, plopping down on one of the metal benches as the Quinjet lifted in the air. “Really, Steve? Do you truly want to deal with Bucky like that? Cause I know, I don’t.”

           “Well, your fondueing is disrupting the schedule.”

           “Oh relax,” Nat butted in, throwing Y/N a chocolate bar, given how no one had had time to eat proper breakfast. “It’s not like the HYDRA base was going to suddenly disappear.” 

           “It could’ve,” the blond super soldier countered.

           Nat rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the smile she had on her face. “Which is why we have an inside man, who as of three minutes ago has confirmed – they’re still there. And by the looks of it, not even trying to run.”

           Bucky’s arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “See? Everything’s still on track. Besides, from what I heard from Sam, he’s loving the whole under-cover thing so we were doing him a favour.”

           Tony had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and joined in on everyone discussing Y/N’s and Bucky’s sex life, so that was her cue to switch the comms in her ear from ‘communication’ setting to the ‘music’ setting, leaning against Bucky’s side and closing her eyes, cashing in on those lost sleep minutes she’d spent in the shower with her lover. 

           When they had about forty minutes left in the air, Bucky once more woke Y/N up as she’d fallen asleep while Steve and Tony went over the last briefing. 

“Bucky and I will take the South-side entrance,” Steve said, pointing at the holographic map Tony had pulled up. “Y/N, Nat and Wanda you take the East, and go as easy as you can, Red.” Steve nudged his chin towards Wanda who nodded. “Just because you can bend reality doesn’t mean you can bend your health. That’s where the main intel storage unit. Get as much as you can and get out. Tony will take the air and wait until Sam joins before blowing everything up. Clint, Bruce and Thor have all checked in, and are already in their positions on the ground as blitz attack. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y has confirmed everyone’s location away from the blast zone Tony will detonate the bombs Sam has set up inside. Got it?”

Affirmative nods came from everyone on board, as they went to do final checks on their gear and equipment.

“Be careful out there, alright?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s neck as she double and triple checked her ammunition count, strapping a sword to her back as well, just in case. Her obsession with Medieval fantasy shows giving her a reason to make Tony pay for her lessons. 

           “We’re gonna be fine,” Y/N gently patted Bucky’s cheek before giving him a peck on the cheek as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist. “We always are.”

           But where typically she was right (most of the time), it was in that instance where she couldn’t be further from the truth if she’d tried. 

           Despite having Sam on the inside and him having gone through great lengths to make the infiltration as easy as possible, getting inside the building had been suspiciously easy, and that had set off everyone’s alarm bells, but knowing how important gathering the information was, they pressed on, keeping the thought that it could be a trap at the back of their minds at all times. 

           Thor, Bruce and Clint had started their ground attack two minutes before the rest had joined, with Vision guiding and disabling every system possible from back at the tower, so Tony and F.R.I.D.A.Y could put all of their focus on retaliating against the helacarriers coming their way. 

           “Cap, we’re in,” Natasha announced, ducking through the door, as Wanda covered her six, and Y/N lead the way in front, bullet shells flying out from her rifle. 

           Their comms crackled with echoes of gunfire outside as Tony lead them through the place right until they got to the main room where the whole system mainframe resided in.

           “Five-minute countdown commenced,” Y/N said it out loud to inform the rest of their team, as she stood behind Wanda, who’d created a red shield of magic, keeping the assault away and them inside the room.

           Five minutes until they had to get out of the building because in eight minutes time Tony and Vision, having infiltrated HYDRA’s system would blow everything to bits. If that failed, Wanda was there to provide a safety dome for the three of them, but it was just as a failsafe. Even though she now had full control of her powers, understood them better than ever, taking in a blast that will level a whole ass building was still a lot and there was no guarantee bricks and beams wouldn’t just settle right over them to then fall on top the women, she was still recuperating from a rival witch attack and it had taken out a bit more energy from her than usual.

           “How’s it looking over on your end, Vis?” Wanda asked through the comms, connecting back to the rest of the team in the tower.

           “The files are coming in, but too slowly,” his smooth voice invaded everyone’s earpieces. “And unfortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y’s mainframe won’t allow for a faster download, as she needs to scan everything for viruses.”

           “Should’ve used a flash-drive,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she watched the HYDRA agents line outside the room, creating a two-level firing squad basically. 

           “Last time we did that, the files corrupted the drive and then erased themselves,” Tony butted in, then groaned as something hard hit him. “And no one needs to hear you complain about losing the six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine again.”

           Y/N just rolled her eyes and steadied her rifle against her shoulder once Nat gave the go-sign. Then something beeped through everyone’s comms. The three-minute countdown before the whole building went down.

           “We’re barely at seventy-six percent,” Nat’s tone was calm, but the frustration didn’t go unnoticed by others.

           “Plan B then.” Wanda changed her stance a bit, but not by much as to not arouse any suspicion from the agents. If they could be taken out by the blast instead of her it’d be less energy used on her part.

           “Are you sure?” Sam finally butted in, having gotten in contact with Bucky who’d given him a comm linked just with their interface. “We can try and delay the blast,” Sam said right as Bucky commanded him to do so.

           “No,” Wanda stated. There were already at the two-minute mark. “Get out. We’ll take cover once the files are ours.”

           “Y/N,” she heard her lover start, but she just shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. 

           “Wanda’s right. Just be here to pull us out from the rubble. I have no want to climb through the wreckage.”

           A deep, long, exasperated sigh echoed in her ears, and it made her smile. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

           “Love you too, hot stuff.”

           A chorus of gags followed shortly after their little display of affection, and even though they were nowhere near one another they rolled their eyes almost at the exact same time, as Vision told Wanda to stay safe.

           “You owe me a foot massage, Vis.”

           “Gross.” Y/N chuckled.

           Wanda just threw her a smirk. “Imagine how we all feel about you and Bucky.”

           “Okay, we’re down to sixty seconds!” Tony said, making Y/N nervously glance back at Nat. 

           The assassin just shook her head. “Eighty-seven percent.”

           She gritted her teeth. If the building went out before they got the files they’d be stuck with just what they had. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please speed up a bit, the place is about to get blown to bits.”

           “Rerouting the files to a different server,” the A.I. was immediately on it. “Will have to do the scan later.”

           “Thirty seconds, guys!” Steve shouted as whoever was still near the base scrambled to get out.

           Nat’s head whipped back to the computer screen. “Almost there.”

           But the whole thing seemed to have made the HYDRA agents realise something was amiss, yet it was too late for them. As Sam counted off the last five seconds, Natasha rushed to the other two women, grabbing them by their waists and crouching down while Wanda created a red dome of magic, explosions shaking the whole house.

           For a second the rumbling felt more like someone shaking you awake from a deep sleep until the walls of the room exploded, raining fire, brick and metal down on them. 

           That would’ve been fine if not for the fact that the floor underneath them decided to disappear as well, an array of curses coming from their mouths as Wanda immediately rounded out the shield while the rest of their teammates kept nagging them to respond.

           “Y/N, I swear to everything you hold dear, I will kill you myself if you die,” Bucky pretty much screamed, while she groaned as the sudden shift in balance had made her hit herself in the ribs with the rifle.

           She gritted her teeth, as Wanda used more of her powers to stabilise them. “We’re fine,” she responded. “No need to bring in the cavalry yet.”

           A deep sigh from what seemed like everyone echoed in her earpiece, and when Wanda was sure there’d be no second shockwaves from the blast or no debris that could fall right on top of them where she’d need to take her focus away, she flew the three women out of the ruined building and onto the grassy knoll where the team stood waiting. 

           Bucky was instantly next to Y/N, pulling her into his body and her lips against his once Wanda released her from the energy bubble. 

           “God, you’re disgusting,” Sam mumbled, and it was followed by a small yelp when someone hit him in the side.

           Y/N threw him a mischievous grin when she pulled away. “Don’t be a Bitter Betty. The offer to set you up still stands.”

           Sam cackled, as everyone had now regrouped and together were marching away to where the jet sat disguised between the trees. “Hard pass. You’re a worse matchmaker than Steve.”

           “Hey! Amelia was an amazing girl.”

           “She is except for the fact that she’s not interested in men.”

           Steve’s cheeks reddened up a bit, as Tony gave him a sympathetic pat. “ ‘S not my business to ask what people’s sexuality is. And blame yourself. You’re the one who’s called Sam.”

           “Oh, don’t you even –“ but his words were cut off midway as gunfire rained down on them from the sky.

           Instantly Wanda threw up a shield once more, Bucky going to cover Y/N with his body, but HYDRA opening fire from the top had left their sides unprotected, and a well-aimed shot from a bazooka ripped everyone apart. 

           The blast was minimised thanks to Wanda and her quickly directing a part of her magic to contain it, but the missile still threw them away.

           Y/N’s head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the loud noise of the blast, because of her having hit her head against a tree trunk, or because of all the screams from her teammates, yet she had zero time to recuperate as an agent rushed towards her, knives ready for a kill.

           The first one embedded itself inside the tree, and barely not inside her head, as she moved to the side in the last minute, but a small sting still crept along the side of her head where he’d managed to split the skin.

           She was up and rolling away, grabbing one of her own knives from the side of her leg, finally unsheathing her sword. There was no time to put more clips in her guns.

           The first agent was quick work for Y/N, I mean he only three more knives left, and he’d been one of the unlucky ones to stand next to the building when it went off, so the shrapnel had ripped a piece of his Kevlar open giving her the perfect place to put her sword in, but the next ten were not as easy.

           She was worn out, tired from having experienced two explosions and some of the agents were new backup, which meant they had more strength and energy, but she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her. 

           At the back of her mind, Y/N heard everyone chiming in as to where they were, how many people were after them if they needed backup, but mostly Y/N heard Bucky’s calls that he was coming to get her, even though she hadn’t requested help, she was too busy dodging bullets and knives to even respond. 

           She was human, she needed help, she wanted help, but then something odd occurred to her – most, from what she’d heard through the comms, were fighting maybe four to five people at a time, with the exception of Wanda, Tony, Thor and Hulk who had tanks and cars going after them, while Y/N had a group of twenty to twenty-five people to manage.

           It was an ambush, it dawned on her.

           She wanted to scream at herself ‘No shit, the whole thing is an ambush’, but it was an ambush of Y/N specifically, which was odd given how she was pretty much one of the few who had no direct ties to HYDRA, but that one moment of confusion was enough for someone to land a slice to the side where her own suit had a hole in it. 

           “Oh, we don’t want you,” a voice went through her comms that she didn’t recognise. It was muffled as if someone was whispering through someone else’s mic. “But we’ll hurt you more than ever.”

           An unsettling quiet settled around before she clearly recognised Bucky breathing out a ‘no’ and then a panicked ‘Y/N!’ rip through his throat. Her head whipped to see one of the most frightening sights of her life that will forever be ingrained in her mind.

           Bucky was laying on the ground, completely paralysed without the ability to even flex a muscle, blue eyes turned towards her in terror and helplessness as he watched while nine more agents stormed towards her.

           She was capable, of course. He’d even experienced how capable the girl was on his own skin, and it had left his super-soldier skin bruised and battered for a few days. But right now, she was tired, she had zero ammo left, all of her knives were embedded in the heads or chests of other assailants and somewhere along the way her sword had snapped in half, leaving her with a jagged piece of steel, which was also protruding out from someone’s chest. Y/N had nothing, but her punches and kicks left. And even she knew there was no way she’d last long enough to get back to the jet in one piece.

           So, gathering whatever strength remained in her body, Y/N retaliated on last time. She heard people shouting that they were coming for her, and for a moment she truly believed so when a red ball of magic hit a group of seven agents knocking them down, but when Y/N’s eyes flitted to where it’d come from, she saw the agents subdue Wanda, as they'd somehow managed to put an electroshock collar around her neck. She fell to her knees gasping in pain.

           All of it, Y/N realised, every single thing that had happened had been a distraction. They’d split them apart, and the Avengers had most likely helped HYDRA accomplish their goal when the bomb went off. 

           For a moment she wondered why’d they’d want to take her, why not take their ‘weapons’ back, but just as quickly came the realisation of their words.

           Someone grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her down. 

           Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids, and her teeth clanked together. She was lucky her tongue hadn’t been between them. 

           Bucky screamed as if someone was ripping his heart from his chest.

           A gun hit her on the head.

           And then everything went black.

***

                      Bucky was going insane. He’d trade having his brain being put through the meatgrinder for seventy years once again if that meant Y/N was back with him, but the empty space in his bed, the unused shampoo and conditioner bottles, the dirty cup in the sink told him otherwise. She was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

           For two weeks he was basically a zombie, barely eating and functioning, spending most of his time by the interrogation room’s computer, following up on dead-end leads and any breadcrumb he could find, yet every single time he thought he’d gotten something as if life was mocking him, it turned into dust, just like his hope slowly was. 

           There was pretty much no one else but him, Sam and Wanda left in the tower, as the rest had split off into teams to go and search every left-over HYDRA base in the world. The only reason he wasn’t out there was because Steve had benched him.

“You’re compromised,” he’d said. Bucky couldn’t say he wasn’t.

Sam had stayed behind because during his last raid he’d gotten hit by some gas, rendering him pretty much useless for half a week, and no one felt comfortable enough to ask him to put his life on the line before a full recovery.

And Wanda… well, Wanda wasn’t taking the whole thing too great either, but she was still functioning, so she was just waiting for the jet to come in and fly her out to Serbia with Vision for a potential lead on Y/N.

Defeated for the night, he grabbed the coffee cup that once had been filled and trudged his way to the kitchen area. God, fucking hell, how much did it hurt to even breathe. 

           Just as he was about to pour himself another cup of the burning black liquid, all of his senses went haywire, and he spun around to look at the hallway of the living room. He instantly recognised the shadow standing in the middle of it, how the shape curved and sloped in such a familiar way. How could he not, when that shadow belonged to the woman, he intended to spend the rest of his life with, when his hands had memorised each and every way she was formed.

           “Dollface?” his voice cracked at the end, but when she entered the light, instead of warmth filling his heart at the relief of her being back, ice-cold fear rushed through him at the sight of the black muzzle across her nose and mouth, not to even mention the HYDRA symbol in the middle of the chest of her tactical suit. 

           The first shot rang out right after he blinked, giving him barely enough time to dodge it, but Y/N was already on the move rushing towards him and kicking her leg out so that her knee would connect with Bucky’s chin. 

           A sickening crunch echoed through the room, as his head met the marble floor, bright lights flashing behind his eyes. He could even feel his teeth vibrate from the impact. It was this second which he used to somewhat regain a sense of place, that Y/N used to straddle him down, hand going behind her back to pull out a gun, but Bucky knew her. He knew her moves and how she left her left side open.

           When his forehead connected to Y/N’s nose, he almost vomited at the feeling of bone-crunching against his skin, but it gave him enough time to deliver a blow to her side, disarming her before grabbing her bicep and pulling her arm behind her back, his own metal appendage wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him. 

           “Come on, sweetheart!” he was pleading, but his grip unyielding to her struggles. “Fight this. I know you can.”

           But to his horror, HYDRA had dug their nails into her mind deeper than he ever thought was possible, as she smashed the back of her head against his nose once more, red blood spilling everywhere.

           He staggered back, palm cradling his face, but he still had one free to block the fist that was coming in his direction. This caught her off guard for a millisecond, but not long enough for Bucky to do anything, as she smashed her foot against his knee, bringing him down, yet he’d expected it, using the position to his advantage and grabbing Y/N behind the legs, yanking her towards him, and making her back hit hard against the floor, dizzying and knocking the air out of the woman.

           It took him three seconds to slide over to the gun she’d discarded and to stand up, and it took three seconds for her to flip herself up and aim the gun that’d still been strapped to her thigh.

           Both of them were shaking, but both for different reasons. Bucky was shaking because he was making the love of his life look down the barrel of a gun, while she was shaking because the only thought on her mind was about if she didn’t finish the mission, the consequences would be more horrible than anything HYDRA had done to her before.

           “I don’t want to hurt you! Please snap out of it!” he hollered but didn’t lower his weapon. It went against all of his instincts to be in that position, even when the two sparred, Bucky, to Y/N’s annoyance who was hoping for a real fight, pulled his punches. It was unnatural for him to even consider harming her.

           She cocked her gun, didn’t even hesitate. 

           “Sorry, can’t do that. You’re my mission.”

           Bucky took in one last breath.

           It hitched in his throat.

           He blinked away the tears pooling at his bottom lashes.

He’d never pull the trigger. 

           She steadied her aim.

           Bucky closed his eyes.

           But the bullet never came. At least not for him.

The yelp of pain made him open his eyes just to see Y/N’s body jerk to the side and drop to her knee, hand clutching at her shoulder, with Sam behind her, his own gun aimed at her with a little stream of smoke coming out of the barrel. 

Yet the second her shock passed Y/N swiftly turned to Sam, gun in her usable palm when her body seized up, and she fell to the ground unconscious. 

           Bucky was panting, as he looked to see Redwing, two blue lights on each side dying out, as it deactivated the tasers. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but then he was by Y/N’s side, pulling her body up to cradle against his own.

           “What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky yelled, hovering his left hand over Y/N’s mouth. When the metal fogged over, his whole frame literally shuddered in relief, as he went on to the next job – stopping the bleeding before her breathing stopped.

           “She was gonna put a bullet between your eyes!”

           “You didn’t have to shoot her!”

           “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam mocked, dropping to his knees and shredding apart a kitchen towel to press against the wound. “Would you have rather had your brains splattered against the floor?”

           “You had Redwing taser her! That was enough!”

           “If I hadn’t shot her, Redwing wouldn’t have been able to taser her.”

           He hated the fact wounding Y/N had been a necessary step in subduing her. No, Bucky told himself, not her. Not his Y/N, but whoever HYDRA had placed in her mind.

           As gently as possible, he scooped up her body and with Sam in tow made his way to the med bay.

           F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted the medical staff of the situation, so they were ready when Bucky came in. Instantly two nurses took his girl from his arms and laid her down on a gurney, Helen Cho stepping up with surgical gloves.

           “A through and through in the shoulder,” she remarked more for the medical records than anyone else. “She’ll have a few painful weeks of recovery, but nothing fatal.”

           Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still, he didn’t let anyone touch Y/N without him being beside her. As Helen patched up her shoulder and strapped her down on the cell bed, he was still there beside her, both hands clutching onto her palm, not moving an inch away.

           A little while after Helen had left, he felt a presence hovering behind him, and Sam stepped into the room, leaning against the wall, brown eyes looking over Y/N.

           “How is she?”

           Bucky sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. They were cracked and on the verge of bleeding despite the regenerative cream, Dr Cho had applied. “Asleep,” he mumbled. “So that’s better, I guess. Gives her time to heal.”

           He heard Sam shuffle around a bit, and then he entered Bucky’s peripheral as he sat down on a chair next to the bed.“It took them thirty years to break you, yet it took them two weeks to break her…” Sam said biting on his lip, and the statement made anger course through Bucky’s veins.

           “Are you seriously calling her fucking weak?” He snapped looking at his fellow Avenger. “You have no idea what kind of torture they pu-“

           “I’m not calling her weak,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N is one of the strongest people out there. What I’m saying is – back then it took them years to break a person… now it took them barely fourteen days… what else have they ‘improved’ on?”

           The thought of Y/N having her mind ripped apart and then put back together as if she was some ragdoll made bile rise in Bucky’s throat, and it didn’t settle when he thought of how far that horrid machine had come since he’d been in one. 

           But as much as Bucky wanted revenge, as much as he wanted to destroy HYDRA, to make sure what happened to Y/N never happens again to anyone else, let alone if what Sam implied was true, he couldn’t leave her, not when she would need a familiar face the most. 

           He gulped, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her hand to steady himself. Just the thought of her in all that pain made him go to the edge of breaking apart. “She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?” If there was one thing Bucky appreciated from Sam it was his honesty.

           “In the long run most likely. You’d be the proof of that…” Sam sighed. “But first, we gotta make sure she doesn’t shut people out.”

           But that was most definitely easier said than done, given how the second Y/N woke up, which was about a day later after being knocked-out cold when she realised what had happened, it was not like a wall had magically appeared between her and anyone from the team, but a fucking fortress surrounded by an impenetrable mountainous barrier, and she was the only citizen in that mind castle. And Bucky was the first one behind the door.

           It broke his heart to see Y/N pretty much shut down. She refused to eat, barely drank the water provided, and couldn’t sleep one bit, yet what hurt most was she absolutely rejected even the thought of going back to their shared room, and instead stayed in her barren cell, white walls, with a thin blanket and a paper-like pillow. It got so bad they had to put her on an IV drip so she wouldn’t waste away. But it didn’t matter to her. She was like a ragdoll.

           It was about five days later when she said her first words. Y/N had her head in her hands, matted Y/H/C strands spilling between her fingers, as her nails dug deeper into her skull. That’s the position she’d been sitting in for the past five hours, not even bothering to lift her eyes as a paper plate with a meal, a single plastic spoon next to it and a paper cup of water was slid through the opening at the bottom of her cell door. She wasn’t hungry anyway. In fact, what she really wanted was to disappear from the surface of the earth, for the ground to open and be swallowed by molten lava or have a sharknado crash in and get eaten by a great white.

           “How’re you feeling?” Sam asked arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to the door. He’d been asking that since the first time she opened her eyes, but never received a response, so when the scoff she let out was almost inaudible, but he still picked up on it, he straightened out. “Just peachy,” Y/N mumbled. “Absolutely fantastic. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

           “Y/N…”

           He really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could you possibly say… but he had to at least try, given how miserable Bucky was. He’d heard him sob so loud through two closed doors and a running shower, that he had to do something.

           Sam swallowed hard before entering the room and cautiously, keeping as much space as possible between the two, sat down next to Y/N. He wasn’t afraid of her. He could never be. But he knew she needed to let him closer on her own terms. “You can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep everything in. If you don’t wanna talk to the shrink, it’s fine, but at least talk to someone else…”

           “I am talking to you.”

           “Yes, but you know who I mean.”

“How am I supposed to even look at him?” Her head shot up, and tears threatened to spill down her face. “How am I supposed to talk to him? To touch him, knowing I almost killed him.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” The words were a hiss. “It was me. I understood everything I was doing, I knew who he was, I knew what we were to one another, yet…” she choked in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to say the truth. “I wasn’t going to hesitate. I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t gotten involved, one more second and Bucky would’ve been dead. Because of me.”

“HYDRA messed with your brain,” Sam stated. “I know that everyone knows that and Bucky most of all. Why do you think he couldn’t pull the trigger?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“No, because he’s been in the exact same situation.”

She bit her lip. All her brain was doing was screaming that Sam was right, to listen to him, he knew what he was talking about, but the guilt, the absolutely corrosive horror at herself for what she was going to do wouldn’t let common sense come through. “I just.” Y/N choked and then cleared her throat. “Just tell him I don’t want to see him. I – I can’t see him.”

Sam did know heartbreak. He’d felt it when his first girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d felt it in the army when his friends lost limbs and lives, and now he felt it looking at two of the people he’d grown closest to struggle to find one another and themselves.

He cleared his throat standing up and wiping hind palms down his thighs. “Wanda is also – “

But Y/N didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No.” She shook her head. “No one. Please.” She tucked her face against her knees. “I just wanna be alone.”

And so he left her alone. In fact, everyone did so. 

For a whole month, the usually lively tower was a glass structure of sombre and pain. Everyone was hurting. Wanda had retreated to her room, sitcoms on the rerun, Vision always by her side as she tried to manage the sadness of one of her dearest friends going through such a tough time and the guilt of not being able to help Y/N, to save her from that pain. Nat and Clint along with Tony had locked themselves in one of the lower levels of the tower analysing the data she’d gathered. They needed to occupy themselves with something, otherwise, they’d be overcome by their own thoughts and they were too dark to manage at that moment. Bruce and Thor had relegated themselves to the lab doing experiment after experiment, trying to find out how HYDRA had managed to do such damage to Y/N. 

Steve, however… Steve was doing quite bad. He felt probably the most amount of guilt than the rest of his teammates. He’d taken up the role of the leader, he was supposed to make sure everyone stayed safe. Yes, they were the most skilled people in the world, but they trusted him to make the best calls. And him not having taken into account a blitz attack from HYDRA after their blitz attack had broken two of his friends because Bucky was doing just as bad as Y/N, if not even worse.

He wouldn’t sleep, he couldn’t; Steve heard his cries each night until, at twelve of one AM, they’d cease, and he’d make his way to the cells. Steve had told Y/N a week after she’d been brought back that there was no reason for her to stay in there. She’d just sat on the bed, arms around her knees and staring at the wall. She didn’t go back to her room. 

But each night Bucky would sit by the glass doors and look at the frame of the love of his life, curled underneath a white duvet, a single pillow underneath her head (Y/N loved pillows, she couldn’t sleep without at least four of them) body in a foetal position. She looked so broken. She was. And because of that, so was he.

It was about three AM at night, when his routine was shaken up by none other than Y/N. Typically she’d sleep through the night not even stirring, slipping into the cot at nine PM and then waking up at six AM when Helen came in to switch her IV. She was eating now, but still too little for it to be enough. 

However, that night she was stirred awake by the feeling of someone watching her, not the camera that was always on but by human eyes.

That was the first time she’d seen Bucky since having woken up and regaining control of her body.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, and his whole body straightened out. Y/N remained under the covers, while Bucky sat by the doors still. His palm pressed against the glass.

“Hi, doll.”

Two words, but that was enough for the dam to break. Tears spilt down her face, and without a second to spare Bucky had rushed inside and laid down next to her, strong arms weaving around her shaking body, as his own pain merged with hers.

All Y/N could manage to say was ‘I’m so sorry,' and it became a mantra she repeated in Bucky’s chest, hoping that somehow the words would find their way and settle beneath his skin so he could understand with his whole being how much she meant them. 

           “Please.” He was close to sobbing by that point, hand moving to cup her cheek. “Please let me help.”

“I can’t, Bucky! I can’t!” Y/N was close to complete hysterics by this point. “Every time I even think about you, I remember the emptiness, the absolute numbness that was in me, when I pointed a gun at your face, and I meant to kill you! I was going to pull the trigger, if not for Sam… So,” she gulped looking down at the ground, at their feet. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to let you anywhere near me when I’m terrified of myself.”

           The grip he had on her face, was tight, strong and sure. “Because it wasn’t you. I know what it’s like to have your brain scrambled around and rearranged with false truths and present them as real… but the thing is – they’re not. And you taught me that. You were the one who made me realise it, dollface. Now let me do the same for you.”

           “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I see that – that monster staring back at me.”

           “Reflections are deceiving,” Bucky whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “Mirrors can’t and will never show the truth. It’s a twisted, flipped and made-up version of us, and we can’t allow ourselves to believe it. It’s not us.”

           And despite the pain, despite the guilt and anxiousness, Y/N chuckled, letting out a small sound of happiness for the first time in a while. “When did you get so wise, Gandalf?”

           She could feel the relief that flooded Bucky’s body slowly seep into her own. “Well, re-reading ‘The Hobbit’ helped… but more so you. You taught me that. You made me realise the man that haunts my nightmares might have my face, but it’s not me. He’s not me and I’m not him.”

           “Will you…” Her voice shook as she said the words as if there was a possibility, he could say no. “Will you help me?”

           “You never, ever have to ask for help. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need, I’m always here. I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to go through that.”

           And for the first time in six weeks did Bucky get to hug Y/N. Feeling her body melt into his almost made him have a breakdown of his own, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed onto him like her life depended on the tightness of her grip.

           Six weeks, almost two months without Y/N in every imaginable way had almost broken Bucky to a point of no return. Had they gone longer periods of time without seeing one another? Sure, but this was different. When the person you love is right there, but more unreachable than when they’re thousands of miles away, that’s a different kind of pain. 

           She didn’t release her grip form him, as Bucky shifted and sat up, her legs moving to lace around his waist on instinct. With one hand underneath her thighs the other going to take off the IV bag from the stand, he stood up and moved through the tower, finally retreating to his room, where he took off a photo frame from the wall and hung up the medical supply while gently laying Y/N down between his sheets.

           She’d been in that position many times before in different states of undress, in different emotional states as well, but not once had she been alone there. And neither would she be alone now. 

           It was the first night Bucky slept without waking up, and when he did Y/N’s head was resting on his chest. He held her a bit tighter then.

***

           The road to recovery was slow. 

           It started with her spending her days and nights in Bucky’s room, no longer isolating herself from him. It turned to late-night talks where they just chatted about miscellaneous things, and if she felt comfortable enough, then about every heavy thing pressing on her heart. Then she ventured off to her own room, and once evening slipped inside the room of who was her neighbour. She slept next to Wanda that night.

           The next night, she and Wanda sneaked inside Nat’s bedroom, and just hung out a bit, painting their nails. When Y/N went to sleep next to Bucky, she felt as light as the light-yellow colour adorning her fingers.

           On the morning of the eleventh day of her recovery, she woke up earlier and made everyone breakfast, putting some extra chocolate chips in Sam’s pancakes. He deserved it for all the trouble he’d gone through. The smile on his lips and the kiss on her head from him meant more than any thank you he could say. 

           But it was about a month down the line, after evenings where she’d joined in on the movie nights and had discussed the gathered intelligence from other missions as well as the tactics agents should employ when Y/N took her biggest step yet.

           Bucky was laying on his bed ‘The Two Towers’ between his fingers, the metal appendage flipping the pages as gently as if they were made from butterfly wings, when Y/N came out of the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto her nightshirt. Well, it was actually one of Bucky’s shirts, but at this point, every piece of clothing he owned belonged to her as well. Besides, in his humble opinion, she wore them better than he ever could. 

           “Buck?”

           “Yeah?” he hummed, flipping to another page.

           “Buck I – “ she took in a breath. “I want to have sex.”

           “What? Ow!” The book had slipped from his hands and the edge hit his eyebrow, making Y/N hiss, and instantly come over to try and soothe the hurt part.

           “I mean – “ Bucky stuttered much like his heart. “I’d love to. Gosh, dollface, you know I’d do anything you ever wanted me. Tell me to spend forever between your legs, and I will, but… Please don’t feel like we have to. You’re still healing, and –“

           “I want to,” Y/N was quick to quench his doubt, running a gentle finger over his brow. “I do. I – I need to feel you. I need to feel… I need to feel whole, and I haven’t in so long.”

           His hand cupped her cheek. “You are whole. You don’t need me to complete you. You don’t need anyone to complete you.”

           “I –“ She huffed, struggling to form the thought running through her brain into words. “I – I know that. At least I think so. But… but there is this part inside me, I can’t seem to heal myself, this crack that no matter how hard I try to mend just won’t do. And that’s because that part can only be filled by love. And yours is the strongest one I have in my life.”

           A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, doll…”

           Her legs slowly shifted so they were straddling him as Bucky leaned up in a sitting position, palms dropping to her hips and sliding underneath her PJs to touch the soft skin of her back.

           His nose skimmed against hers, and Y/N sighed at the feeling. She’d slept like that – nose to nose curled up next to Bucky – for close to a month and a half now, but the anticipation of the kiss turned her into a bundle of nerves. 

           “One word,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before looking deeply into her eyes. “One word and we stop.”

           And even though she wanted to say there was no doubt in her mind about doing it, she nodded. He needed the reassurance just as much as she did that if something happened, he’d be there for her.

           When Bucky’s lips met hers, it was just like the first kiss they’d shared. A bit tentative, unsure, yet filled with so much restrained passion and pure love it was overwhelming, and Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

           “Darling, let’s just not do this,” Bucky said noticing the clear pearls dripping down her cheeks, but she shook her head.

           “I just missed you so much. I missed letting you love me.”

           “Well, it’s a good thing people don’t need permission to love. I never stopped. I can’t imagine ever not loving you.”

           His mouth was on hers once again. Bucky let Y/N lead the whole time. He didn’t deny himself from exploring her body, from feeling every crook, dip, and crevice of her form, but she was always in control.

           When her shirt dropped to the floor, she was the one who started lifting it up.

           When she laid down to pull Bucky on top, she was the one who flipped them over and pulled him on top.

           Her hands skimmed the band of his boxers, and Bucky unconsciously ground against Y/N’s clothed core at the feeling, both letting out moans of relief at the friction.

           “Can you take ‘em off?” she breathed, as Bucky left beautiful marks on her neck and chest so they could bloom through the night and could be greeted by them in the morning. 

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Please.”

           They did it together. Y/N linked her fingers behind the fabric and pulled it down his legs while he shimmied out from the boxers and kicked it to the floor. 

           “Can I take yours off?”

           As sure as she was about everything that was going on, there was still some hesitancy in her body, and he immediately sensed it, pulling a little bit away. “Y/N…”

           When her hands went to wrap around his wrists where they rested against her hips, horror washed over Bucky like a cold shower. “Did they…?”

           “No!” Y/N was immediate to answer. “No, they didn’t… but… they said after they were done with me after they turned me into their puppet… after they’d make me hurt you, you’d never want to touch me. That, in your last moments, you’d only have hate in your heart for me, and I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

           He gently put a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. “Even when I was staring down that barrel, all I could think about was how much I love you. How I’d give my life for you even if you were the one taking it. I could never hate you.”

           A violent sob ripped through her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

           “You deserve the world, and I’ll try to give as much of it to you as I can.”

           She couldn’t take much more of his confessions because Y/N’s chest was already as full as it could be of love, so instead, she pulled Bucky back down for a passion-filled kiss, while shimmying out from her own underwear.

           “Condom?”

           “No,” Y/N shook her head. “Not this time. Need to feel you as you are.”

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Helen put me back on the pill about a month ago.”

           Bucky shuddered, nodding. “Alright. Okay. But I need to make sure I don’t hurt you first.”

           Y/N was about to say he could never hurt her, when two of his fingers slipped along her folds, cutting her words off in favour of the groan of pleasure.

           “Gotta take care of my girl the right way.”

           A moan seeped into Bucky’s skin when he pushed a cold metal digit into her tight entrance. His arm had the added feature to feel things if he wanted or switch it off when he didn’t want to, which was a nice thing, especially during missions (he’d forgotten to do so one time and when a bullet bounced off, it wasn’t like a bee bumping against glass, hot pain had rippled through his whole arm, so it was a good idea on Shuri’s part), but this time it was on, and the absolutely exquisite pressure and warmth that squeezed around his digits was enough to make him grind against the mattress to alleviate his own growing pressure.

           “Bucky, please,” Y/N practically mewled, eyes screwed shut, nails digging into his skin, making him groan in pleasure. He’d forgotten how delicious the sounds were and how close to the edge just the feeling of her nails marking half-moons into his back could bring him. 

           “Fuck,” he swore leaning up to kiss her once more, while he increased the speed of which his fingers were going in and out of her, while his thumb rubbed circles around her clit, and when he hotly breathed against her neck to ‘soak him all down to his elbows’ Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she arched up from the bed as an orgasm shattered her world.

           Gently he coaxed her through the orgasm while muttering praises against her mouth.

           “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighed leaning to rest on his elbows. “So fucking gorgeous.”

           Y/N smiled, stroking his cheek. “You’re beautiful too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know or will let yourself believe me.”

           The crooked smirk which he threw her reminded the one from Steve’s tales of him and his skirt-chasing days. “Guess you’ll have to convince me.”

           “With pleasure.”

           Her hand snaked down to where he’d been running the tip of his cock between her folds, before gently pressing him down so he could easily slide inside. When he was sheeted a moan of satisfaction came from both of them.

           It was like homecoming. Like curling up in a warm bed on a cold winter’s night. It was just right.

           “God, I could stay like this forever.” Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

           “We have forever and then some.”

           A look she could not figure out crossed his face. It was like absolute joy mixed with fear and terror. “You promise?”

           Y/N kissed him, trying to pour all of her love into the single act. “With everything I have in me.”

           He took that as the cue that he could move and experimentally rolled his hips towards hers. Bit by bit he picked up the pace, breaths turning into pants broken up by moans, sweat beading along his skin, a small burn appearing in his knees, but even that discomfort couldn’t overshadow the heavenly pleasure rippling through his veins.

           She’d always been the epitome of beauty and love, that’s how completely Bucky had fallen for her, and he could only hope he was the same for her. 

           “Bucky,” she choked out. “So close.”

           “Yeah?” His vision was starting to go white at the edges.

           “Mhm – ohh!” The confirmation turned into a squeal when he hit just that right spot, he concentrated all his thrusts to match it, and soon enough both of them were falling over the edge, clinging onto the other as if they were the last lifeline that existed for them.

           “Hey,” Bucky cooed, opening his eyes and seeing how furrowed Y/N’s brow was, how hard she was fighting to resurface. “Come back to me. Come back, doll.”

           Slowly, Y/N’s breathing evened out, her trembling became small shudders from the aftershock of the pleasure, and her lids fluttered, gaze meeting his.

           She’d come back.

           She’d always come back to her home.

           To Bucky.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea​ @california-grown​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @belongsto-prachi​ @hello-i-am-insane​ @its-nott-my-problem @emmalbg @hopeinahotbox

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Marvel tags: @nerissa98​ @happyseagrill​ @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @wishingforahome​ @pizzarollpatrol​ @desir-ae​

A/N: My Bucky boiiiii! I’m back! hope y’all like this rollercoaster :)

P.S. if you see yourself on my tag list and you’re crossed out means the tag didn’t work. if you still wanna be on the tag list please message me your new url and what was your old one so I can change it (if it’s not the change of the url then I genuinely dunno what could be the problem)

P.S.S. my tags are always open. 

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms without specific written permission and don’t plagiarise them 

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

[littlegiantposts]

movie night

pairing: todoroki x f!reader

warning: strong language probably. possible anime/manga spoilers! grammar mistakes :( I suck at writing

summary: It’s not that Y/n didn’t want friends, it’s just people always found her intimidating

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent lol sorry about that, so like yeah I’m gonna be saying y/n, but also i am deriving her personality, attitude, looks from a character that I’ve sort of made up in my head haha. also idk if this is like a headcanon, imagine, or like a scenaro....so sorry. And like, sort of a side note, I love making main characters that are like sorta op so y/n’s quirk and story is sorta insane, but you guys dont really have to worry about it too much because its not really in this so....yeah, i guess its just some context. I wrote this while listening to a playlist I made, titled, “ur a badass hero with class 1-a” on spotify so if ppl wanna hear it, I will post a link to it lol. OH and class 1-a are in their second year! That’s a lot, sorry! But, I hope you enjoy!

y/n’s quirk (if ur curious): controlling the 4 elements (aang from the last airbender vibe lmao); but she also got a companion named koda (think of Moro-no-kimi from Princess Mononoke for the look) 

Y/n was never good at making friends. It’s not like she didn’t try, because she did. When she was a little kid, living on Catalina Island, she made a lot of attempts to make friends with fellow children in her pre-school and middle school. It just seemed that they wanted nothing to do with her, talking bad about her behind her back or acting as if she just didn’t exist. 

It started to get exhausting for Y/n to keep trying and ending up always failing. So, when enrolling in the top hero school, UA, Y/n thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be different. 

Nonetheless, it’s not like she had absolutely no one. She had Koda! Her best friend in the whole wide world, well her only friend, which was her pet wolf. However, Koda doesn’t like being called a “pet”, let’s stick with her companion. They are quite the inseparable duo. 

Y/n looked down at Koda from her desk who was lulling herself to sleep on the floor as Present Mic was teaching an English lesson. Y/n wished she too can sleep at this moment, “It wouldn’t hurt if I just closed my eyes for just a couple minutes.” Y/n thought. Oh, she was wrong though.

“Alright! We are going take a short break since we need to get our new textbooks,” Present Mic’s voice rang through her ears with all his elongation and passion, “Y/n and Todoroki! What about you two go get the books from the library!” Y/n would have jolted at the mention of her face, but she was honestly too tired to do so. 

She nodded her head, got up from her desk, and looked at Koda if he was going to follow her. Of course, he perked up at the mention of her name and was going with her. A small smile was now on Y/n’s lips. Y/n was glad that she knew she can depend on Koda, always in her corner.

As she pushed her chair away from her desk, getting up and walking towards the door, she didn’t realize that most of the class was either looking at her or the half and half boy, for he had to endure the trip with the enigma that is Y/n. 

The class just doesn’t know Y/n that well. She was one of the new students this year, along with Shinso. However, they at least knew of Shinso from last year. Y/n was a  brand-spanking new addition to the class. Not to mention, her introduction to the class was nothing short of intimidating.

Aizawa knew Y/n had a lot of strengths. In fact, he used her skills as a type of learning lesson for the class. Not to mention, he completely singled her out during the “lesson” as he instructed the class that Y/n will have a bell that is tied around her belt. All they had to do was get the bell. Y/n, being the competitive person she was, didn’t back down at this challenge. Safe to say, no one was able to get the bell that day.

Y/n sighed at the memory. “Maybe, if you had some chill, you would be able to get a friend, Y/n” a voice in her head said, causing Y/n’s shoulders to shrink and her hands to be stuffed into her pockets. (Yes, she has pockets with her uniform. Yes, she’s still wearing the school uniform skirt. She sowed pockets into them for this very habit.) 

“Uh, hey wait up.” a deeper voice called, already identifying who it is.

Y/n turned to right, looking at Koda for a brief second. From far away, one would think he was just grimacing, but as Y/n was closer, she can see he was very close to full-on growling at the sound of his voice.

Koda doesn’t really like Todoroki and Y/n always found it funny. Koda found everyone else real entertaining. As much as Koda was a wolf, he really was a people’s person. If Y/n didn’t know any better, it seemed Koda had a better relationship with her classmates than she actually did.

Y/n adopted a tired smile as she reacted to Koda’s growling at Shoto. She then looked behind her, seeing Todoroki jog lightly towards her. Her small smile soon faded away.

“Even if you try again to be a friend, you know that people will always end up fearing you.” Y/n honestly wanted to bang her head against a wall because this annoying voice was truly the bane of her existence. 

Y/n stopped in her tracks. Koda made eye-contact with her, almost telepathically asking her, “Why are you stopping for him?!”.

“I may be aloof, but I have to at least be polite.” Y/n told her wolf companion. Koda only let out a breathe of frustration as he also stopped as well.

Todoroki soon caught up to the duo and was on Y/n’s left side. And the three began their trek to the school library.

There was some silence.

For Todoroki, it was so awkward. “Why don’t you say something to her?” he asks himself, “Or are you going to let another opportunity slip?”

You see, Shoto Todoroki admired Y/n. She was incredibly skilled with her quirk. She was confident, but not arrogant. She was an innovator, while still accepting old principles. She was naturally smart, but always open to learning. To him, she was so balanced. He couldn’t help himself as the admiration started to soon feel like a crush on the dark haired girl.

For Y/n, she didn’t think anything of the silence. In fact, she was grateful for the silence. More silence, means less time for talking. Less chance of Y/n making a fool out of herself.

“You seem more tired than usual. Trained a lot yesterday, I presume?” And Todoroki broke the silence that Y/n was trying to insist.

“Yeah, trying out a new technique with my water.”

Y/n was surprised.

She really could have been more blunt with her answer.

Theoretically, all she really had to respond with was a “yeah”, but she decided to add that last part.

Why? Why did she feel inclined to go into more detail? Now, Y/n was confused. 

“That’s cool.” Todoroki wanted to hit himself in the head. “That’s all you got to say? What a conversation this is” Shoto mentally sighs. He feels like his heart is going to burst at how fast its going. 

“I’m actually trying to freeze it, but that turns out to be harder than expected,” Y/n almost slapped her hand on her mouth.

Why is she going into more detail? This doesn’t make sense. She’s been quite blunt lately when people try to talk to her, so what gives?

Is it Todoroki, himself? “Maybe he put a spell on me or something.” Y/n didn’t think the “icy-hot bastard” would dabble in witchcraft, but things were just not adding up in Y/n’s mind. All these thoughts woke Y/n right up, ridding herself of her tiredness. 

As for Todoroki, his mind was going into overdrive. “She’s having trouble with freezing water? She must know that this is my specialty. Is this her way of spending time with me? Does this mean the feelings I have for her are mutual? Perhaps, we can train together and I can help her with freezing.” The mere thought of spending time with Y/n outside of class made his cheeks warm up. 

He was an absolute love-struck fool for Y/n. 

“Oh, we’re here.” Y/n stated the obvious as they stand in front of the school’s library, halting Shoto’s mental mumbling, which almost resembled one of Midoryia’s ever-present babbling. 

Shoto Todoroki immediately shot his arm forward to open the door for Y/n, but Y/n was thinking the same thing and they reached for the same handle.

Their hands touch. 

And Todoroki thinks he can die happy now. Y/n’s hand is so soft. Much to his dismay, Y/n immediately drew her hand back as if his hand was scalding hot water. 

Y/n mumbled a quick “sorry” and places her hand on the other handle as there are two doors to the library, she opens it and immediately walks through it as Koda follows in tow. Koda dawns an absolute confused look as he didn’t know what the hell that interaction was about.

The actual task of getting the books aren’t that hard. In fact, it was an easy and quick task.

So, why is this causing Y/n’s mind and heart feeling like they are overheating.

As they walk back to the classroom with stacks of textbooks, Y/n thought, “Okay, there’s no way in hell that he will try to talk to me again, especially after that awkward incident. Now, let’s breakdown why the actual hell you acted that way, Y/n.” She mentally scolded herself like she was a child. 

Todoroki, as always, had a different plan and decided to continue the conversation, “You know, if you need help with freezing water, I can always help you since that is part of my quirk.”

Y/n has officially short-circuited.

He is voluntarily asking? Voluntarily. Asking?

Asking if Y/n wanted to train together?

This has never happened before, and she doesn’t know how to respond. “I would like that. I typically train in the morning and sometimes after school” is what Y/n felt like saying. It is as if her mind and mouth were working against each other.

However, Y/n’s thoughts were cut short as she heard the chatter of some of her fellow classmates. They three of them were very close to their classroom as their door to the room was wide open. 

“Hey guys, if we’re having a movie night tonight, do you think we should invite Y/n?”

It was Midoryia who asked the question. Y/n, Shoto, and Koda stopped dead in their tracks at the mention of her name. Shoto and Koda looked at Y/n with a worried expression. For her own good, she probably shouldn’t be listening, but she couldn’t help but be curious of her classmates’ plan in regards to her.

“It’s not that we don’t want her there. It’s just that, who is up for asking her?”

Silence. No one responded to the question.

Koda notices how Y/n’s grip on the textbooks tightened. Shoto noticed how your head was now titled downward, hiding your face.

“She’s just so intimidating. And not to mention that training exercise we did when we first met her. She’s sort of scary, to be honest.”

“Scary. You’re scary, Y/n. Terrifying.” She couldn’t help but repeat her classmates’ thought of her. She was just torturing herself at this point. No point in dwelling on first impressions, but as this is affecting her current relationship, or lack thereof, with her classmates, she couldn’t help it.

“Y/n-” Todoroki tries to interject before Y/n gets the wrong idea.

But, it’s too late.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer though, Todoroki.” Y/n’s words were slow. As much as her brain was going a million miles per hour, her mouth was evidently slower as her breathing was heavier.

She wanted to disappear, or at least get swallowed by the ground. She kept her head down as she strode into the classroom. Her classmates being oblivious to Y/n’s knowledge of what they truly think of her, paying no attention to her.

Shoto was basically frozen in place, next to the door, but he gained composure and walked in the class as well, a couple seconds after. Y/n quickly placed her books on the front desk where Present Mic sat behind of, she sat back in her seat that was in the back of the class.

Y/n watched how Shoto was still standing in front of the classroom as he was stopped by his classmates. Now, they were just chatting, probably talking about the upcoming movie night.

Y/n felt jealousy bubble up inside her. She wished she can chat like how Shoto was effortlessly talking away to his classmates. Or how Midoryia stopped him with such ease to talk about a social event.

Y/n yearned for some friendly interaction. That’s what she wanted when coming to UA. 

She wanted to be normal. As normal as she could be. A normal teenager.

“Things don’t always go according to plan, huh?” Y/n pouted and placed her head on her desk and just waited patiently till the school day was over.

Koda worriedly looked at Y/n. “She’s going to want to train after this. And I bet she’s going to push herself harder because of today.” Koda knew Y/n very well. Knew her like the back of his hand, well, paw. 

And, Koda was right. Y/n was in gym gamma, completely exhausted. Sweat covered her body as her muscles were screaming at her take a break. Her labored breathe continued as her body was trying its best to keep up.

Y/n was frustrated. “Why? Why am I like this?” she kept repeating like a mantra.

“I want to be normal. Why can’t I be like them?”

“Why?”

“You’re a monster. It’s actually quite simple.”

Y/n threw a punch with her fist encased in water, and it wasn’t until after that punch was thrown, she realized that there was now an evident hole in the thick, solid concrete wall. 

Y/n fell to her knees. Koda hurriedly made his way to her, making sure she didn’t do anything too stupid. Once Koda was close, she was doing something unexpected. 

She was crying. 

Hot streams, cascading down her face. She started to hiccup, her breathing erratic. “A-am I scary to you, Koda?” her voice was so small.

Koda nudged his way in between her legs and nestled his head into her neck. Y/n, full on sobbing now, wraps her arms around Koda and her cries are muffled by his fur. Wailing and self-deprecating questions can be faintly heard from her if anyone were to enter the gym.

A couple minutes passed. Y/n’a breathing returned to a calm rhythm.

“Thanks, Koda. I needed that,” Y/n sniffles, “C’mon let’s go make dinner, I’ll whip you up something special for putting up with me today.” Koda’s tail immediately began to wag at the thought of Y/n’s cooking.

Y/n was an independent person. She likes doing things on her own as much as can. She doesn’t eat the food from the school cafeteria, instead, she opts for making her and Koda’s meals from the kitchen that is provided to them in their dormitory. And indeed, she made a delicious dinner for both of them. 

Now, the hard part. Because of how long her training took, showering, and making dinner, Y/n knew that her classmates were in the common space already, probably preparing to have their movie night. And, she had to pass them. It was a short distance, short walk, Y/n was trying to reassure herself. Just walk straight towards to the elevator and you’re safe.

Y/n takes a deep breathe and walks out of the kitchen. The chatter of her classmates emerges to her ears, but as she walks towards the elevator, the chatter dies down.

“Oh no.” Y/n’s eyes widened in fear. “Way to go on ruining the mood, Y/n.”

Thankfully, the elevator was quick and the doors slide open, making an easy escape for Y/n and Koda. She let out a breathe she didn’t even realize she was holding in as the doors slid shut. Y/n looks at Koda, who was already looking at her, “It’s better this way, anyway” Y/n didn’t know if she was telling Koda that, or herself.

On the other side of the elevator’s doors, her classmates collectively let out a sigh, “Well that was another chance we wasted.” Kaminari was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Tch. Like any of you have the guts to actually ask her.” Bakugo chimed in.

“Oh please, Bakugo, I know she intimidates you, too.” Mina fired back.

“Whatever.”

“She heard you guys.” Todoroki suddenly talked. Everyone casted their attention to him, “Earlier today, I mean. She heard you guys when you were talking about inviting her to movie night.” 

The once light-hearted atmosphere in the room was now tilted with guilt.

“She heard all that?” Midoryia incredulously asked, only imagining what you would be feeling because of their words.

“She must feel terrible.” Ochaco openly voiced her thoughts.

“She probably hates us.” Kirishima adds in.

“She means well, I promise. I think we just need to give her a chance.” Todoroki tries to reason with his classmates.

“First, we need to apologize.” Midoryia proposes as he looks among his classmates. His classmates collectively nod their heads in agreement

“You’re right. Well, good luck Midoryia.” Kaminari pats his back as encouragement. Everyone else either gives an encouraging smile or a thumbs up.

“Ha?! What?! You guys already decided that I’m going to be the one to apologize?” Izuku was flailing his arm around and was checking everyone else’s reaction.

“Well, yes. It’s your idea and you are one of the most apologetic people here.” Iida explained to an overthinking Midoryia.

After regaining composure, he realized that this was probably the best option, “Okay, I’ll, I’ll go now.”

Midoryia makes his way to Y/n’s dorm room. He was nervous. He only had very limited interactions with Y/n. So, he really didn’t know what to expect. Before he knew it, he was before your door.

On the other side, Y/n was chowing down on her food. She took a swig of her water, “So, how’s the food? I tried a new technique on roasting the veggies.” Y/n babbled on for a bit, but she realized that Koda’s plate was hardly touched. Her gaze landed on Koda who was sitting on her bed with a very obvious frown, staring at the door. Y/n immediately knew why.

“Hey, if you wanna go hangout with them, I can push the buttons on the elevator for you-”

Koda was irritated at how difficult Y/n was being, she can just ask them if she can join. It was simple. Koda used his mouth to latch on to Y/n’s sleeve and started to drag her to her dorm’s door. 

“H-hey Koda! Not cool, man! You know, I can’t go down there.” Y/n tugs her sleeve away from Koda. 

Koda turned to his last resort. He did his signature pout. 

“Oh, please. You know that stopped working on me awhile ago. Besides, we can have our own movie night, right?” Y/n tried to reason, but her reasoning just felt sad.

Before Y/n could step away from her dorm’s door, she heard a knock. The two quickly tuned their heads at the door as if something miraculous just happened.

Y/n took one step toward the door. 

“It’s Midoryia.” Koda began to wag his tail, “don’t get your hopes up too quickly.”

Y/n opened the door only a slit for her head to poke out, “Oh, hi Midoryia. Is something wrong?” she asks.

“U-um, no nothings wrong.” he responds as nerves start to take over and he doesn’t continue on.

“Okay.” With that, Y/n closed her door. Koda wanted to scratch his eyes out. This was her chance! For someone who was the top student in her class, she was so stupid. “He didn’t want anything. Sorry to disappoint, Koda-” another knock interrupted her.

She looked at the door, “It’s still Midoryia.” Koda rolled his eyes.

Y/n went to to open the door, again, only opening a bit, “Yes, Midoryia? You sure something isn’t wrong?”

“Uh, well I was wondering if we can talk for a bit.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” Y/n stepped out of her door, and shutting it.

However, Koda was right on her trail, but was shut out by the now closed door. He pouts at the door. And how holds his ear to the door, interested in the conversation that has yet to come.

“So, what’s up?” Y/n asked the green-haired boy.

“I, we, as a class, wanted to apologize for our words today.” Midoryia spoke in a remorseful and quiet tone.

Y/n was taken back. “So, they know that I heard what they were saying? Must have been Todoroki’s doing.”

“Look, it’s fine. I know I’m intimidating-“

“But it’s not fine. We shouldn’t have treated or talked about you that way.”

Y/n was stunned at his words. He took that as a sign to continue, “and we were hoping, if you’d be okay if we start over and become friends.”

Y/n remained cautious with her walls, “You know, friendship isn’t really a perquisite for this course.”

“Of course, I know that. We all do, but it doesn’t hurt to have them, right?”

Y/n felt like tearing up. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to put her trust in that last statement of his. 

“I’ll be be down in 5 minutes,” Y/n stated rather blandly, but it didn’t matter to Midoryia.

“Great! See ya!” He waved and started to head back to the elevator, before he pressed the button, Y/n called him once more,

“Midoryia?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” and nods his head. He couldn’t be more thrilled that this will all work out.

As for Y/n, she opened her door to her dorm, and closing it as she stepped inside.

As soon as she was in the comfort of her own room, she broke into her happy dance. Her fists clenched, eyes shut, shoulders scrunched, jumping in the air, squeals make their way pass her lips, with the biggest smile on her face

Koda felt a wave of relief of wash over him. He was glad that she was finally experiencing acceptance. 

After the moment passes, Y/n sighs and looks at Koda, ruffling his fur on the top of his head.

“Well, shall we?” Y/n said in an extravagant manner as she opened her door and bowed.

Koda, playing along, held his head high and strutted out. Y/n let out a light-hearted laugh and they made their way down, together.

Once Y/n actually made it to the common room, all of her classmates were looking at her, stopping their conversations as well. The confidence that Y/n help was long gone, feeling now awkward yet again.

However, the silence didn’t last too long as the class enveloped her in boisterous apologies, hugs, and pats on the back. 

To say Y/n was overwhelmed was understatement. She had never been around these many people, giving attention towards her. It was new territory she had yet to cross. 

“Guys, you should probably let her breathe.”

That was Todoroki. Y/n pried her eyes away from Mina who was asking what conditioner she uses, and looked at Shoto. Y/n mouthed a “thank you” and he simply nodded.

The class went back to their seats, muttering apologies again for getting in her personal space.

Now, Y/n faced yet another problem:

Where is she going to sit?!

She kept standing where she stood for a good couple seconds, scanning the area for any good spots.

However, there was actually only one spot open. And, it just happen to be next to Todoroki. 

Y/n mentally prepared herself and started her path towards him. Of course, Shoto knew this. He was the one who made sure he saved a seat right next to him just for this occasion.

But things don’t always go according to plan, right?

Rightly so, right before Y/n could take the unaccompanied seat, Denki was coming back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn, plopping right down on the seat.

“Oh, hey Y/n! I’m glad you made it! You want some popcorn?”

“No, I’m good, thanks though.” Y/n was able to play it off as she chose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, which coincidentally was in front of the seat that Shoto resided. 

Shoto was irritated. He wanted you to sit next to him. For crying out loud, that was the whole reason he had this seat open in the first place. All he does is sigh, catching Y/n’s attention.

Y/n turns back to Todoroki, sending a small smile his way, but then turning back to the screen as her fellow classmates were arguing on what to watch.

Y/n put her hand to her chest. This is weird. Why is her heart rate so high? She’s not usually like this. Maybe Todoroki did cast a spell on her.

Y/n couldn’t think about it too much as the movie began playing.

[scimitar-and-longsword]

I've got a prompt about Joe & Booker brotp 🤜💥🤛 Joe is still very angry with Booker, but the team needs his help for a mission. While Booker tries again to power through his depression by pretending he's doing okay (like he fears that if they saw how mentally unwell he actually is they might resent him even more for not getting better). For the first time Joe starts to see all the cracks in Bookers facade.

On Nony! All my dreams in this one request! Joe seeing Booker’s depression break through a bit is gonna break both his and my heart!!!! ahhhhhhh!! All right, *cracks Knuckles* let’s do this.

—————–

Brothers Fight.

Things happened so quickly. 

Joe didn’t have the chance to argue when Andy had suggested they call Booker. Partly because it was Andy, and you don’t argue with Andy. But also because Nicky had shot him a sharp look when he had opened his mouth to argue with her anyway.

The next thing Joe knew, he was sitting on an empty car of a passenger train, staring daggers into the back of Booker’s head.

“Settle down.” Nicky whispered harshly in Arabic.

Joe sighed and shifted in his seat. He relaxed hands he hadn’t realized were clenched into fists on his lap, and switched to looking out the window at the Chinese countryside whizzing past. 

It was not at all convenient for Booker to join them from Paris, and they all knew it. It had barely been five years, not to mention the fact that they had already broken his exile once only six months after it started because of the whole Quynh thing.

Everyone else wanted Booker back. Well, mostly Nile wanted him back. At least she was the most outspoken about it. 

But Joe could see it on Andy’s face every time Nile brought up that she missed Booker, or wondered aloud what Booker thought of the latest news. Joe had even seen the pain and longing flicker in Nicky’s eyes more than once at the mention of Booker.

Joe just couldn’t bring himself to forgive Booker, not yet.

The train lurched as the track began to turn ever so slightly.

Nicky suddenly got out of his seat and walked to the other end of the car where Nile was sitting. He probably could feel Joe’s mind turning over the Booker issue in his head. Joe knew the whole situation bothered Nicky, but he couldn’t help it. Andy was stretched across the entire row in front of Nile, her feet barely visible where they stuck out into the aisle.

Nicky sat in the seat across the aisle from Nile. She perked up when she noticed him and immediately passed an earbud to him, leaning partway into the aisle so that the cord would reach.

Joe smiled, despite his sour mood.

Watching the friendship between Nile and Nicky blossom had been a joy over the past five years. They had bonded in their love of music, and their religious backgrounds. When Nicky wasn’t with Joe he could often be found entertaining Nile with tales of battles from hundreds of years ago.

Booker cleared his throat and Joe’s attention was abruptly shifted back to his former friend. He felt an ache grow in his chest.

What absolutely lucky and ungrateful bastard Joe had been. To have been gifted a soulmate in Nicky and a brother in Booker and to not realize what he had. 

He had wanted for nothing in his long life, not truly. He had lacked nothing. Family, friendship, safety, love. All of it wrapped up in this group. But he had not realized the space that Booker had filled in his heart until he was gone.

When they first found Booker, it had taken Nicky all of two years to start making jokes about Joe having two soulmates. And as much as Joe bristled at the implication, no matter how joking it was, that anyone could replace Nicky, Joe knew what he meant.

Booker and Joe just got each other. Of course Booker got along with Andy, and though it was less obvious, with Nicky too. But Joe and Booker, they were brothers.

They made each other laugh, and enjoyed watching sports. They shared a distaste for modern music and enjoyed hiking and running together.

They had slightly shorter tempers than Andy and Nicky had. And just as often as not the two of them could be found arguing about some trivial thing or another.

Joe never yelled at Nicky, and he hardly yelled at Andy, but fuck if he didn’t have his fair share of screaming matches with Booker over the years.

Despite that though, or perhaps because of  it, Booker was his best friend.

Joe knew he had taken Booker’s betrayal harder than anyone else. He’d talked about it at length with Nicky. Even though Joe hated talking about Booker now. He hated thinking about him too. It hurt too much. 

Still, he couldn’t hide this, not from Nicky. His heart knew him too well.

Booker cleared his throat again. And Joe sighed, releasing a held breath. 

The train swayed slightly as the track straightened out once more.

Booker had cried into Joe’s shoulder for hours on the night his son finally passed from cancer. Joe had spent probably a fifth of his evenings since Booker had joined them watching the man get sloppy drunk, and laughing with him into the early hours of the morning.

Booker’s betrayal had hurt him, had hurt Nicky, and had almost killed Andy. Nile had been dragged into a fight she had not been prepared for within days of learning of her immortality. Joe had stared down the reality of years, potentially decades, of torture for him and Nicky because of Booker.

All of that hurt. But that wasn’t the reason Joe couldn’t forgive Booker, not really.

It was that Joe had no idea Booker was in so much pain. Joe knew Booker was a bit of a brooder, but he also had so much life, and fire within him.

How could Joe not have known? How could he not have seen the extent of the pain his friend was going through? 

To have wanted so desperately to end it all, desperately enough to sell them out, but to still not have confided in Joe, not even once. Fuck- it hurt.

But even as Joe’s thoughts formed he felt guilty. How could he be mad at someone experiencing so much pain?

The endless cycle of anger and guilt he had been locked in for five years continued. Perhaps he wasn’t only mad at Booker, perhaps he was mad at himself too.

Booker had been an intricate part of Joe’s happiness for over two hundred years. Joe had never considered that the brotherhood he thought he had with Booker was one sided.

But he considered it now.

That part of his life was over, or at least on pause. Perhaps he could find it in his heart to forgive Book and to forgive himself. But not yet, the pain was still too new.

Nile laughed at something Nicky said and yanked her headphone cord back, the earbud in Nicky’s ear flying out with it.

“Ow!” Nick said, but there was a small smile on his lips and a crinkle at the side of his eyes.

Joe smiled to himself. Had this been what Nicky had felt watching him and Booker bond?

And just like that, his smile faded and he sighed once more.

“Will you stop that?” Booker snapped at him from where he sat two rows in front of Joe.

Booker turned and made eye contact with Joe over the tops of the seats.

“I can hear you being irritable from here.” Booker’s eyes didn't leave Joe’s as he spoke.

Joe rolled his eyes in response.

“Gee, I wonder what on earth could make me irritable?”

“Do you really want to do this right now?” Booker said flatly. 

“No,” Joe spat back, the volume of his voice seemed to be increasing without his permission, “I want to do this in ninety five years! But no one else seems to agree with me, so this is what you get. Irritable, angry, old me.”

“Typical.” Booker stood up, “You’d let your anger at me get in the way of a mission? Put people in danger for the sake of your grudge. Can’t control yourself for, what, how long has it been? Five hours since I got back?” Joe was up now too, meeting Booker in the aisle.

“My anger get in the way of a mission? My anger? I can do my fucking job Booker.” Joe said, stepping up closer to his former friend. “I would never put my bullshit in front of the safety of my family.”

Booker took a step backwards at Joe's advancement toward him. A look of pain flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as fast.

Somewhere in the back of Joe’s mind a small voice, that sounded very much like Nicky, chastised him for going for the kill with that last sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, he was too angry. Angry and embarrassed. He couldn’t stop the emotion spilling out of him now. A damn was broken.

Still, Joe took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice even. He was vaguely aware that the low chatter coming from Nicky and Nile had stopped, but his eyes never left Booker.

“Was everything a lie? Did you enjoy any moment of your life with us?”

Booker turned around toward where Nicky and Nile were seated and then back toward Joe. His face was stern.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” He said as he pushed passed Joe toward the back of the train.

“How can I if you never told me?”

“Hard to tell you anything while in exile.” Booker bit back. He tilted his head toward the ceiling, his back still to Joe.

“You know what I mean, Book. Two hundred years and you never-” Joe started but Booker cut him off.

“I don’t want to have this fight again Joe,” Booker said, his voice finally rising to match Joe’s, “No matter how many times you scream at me about it, I can’t change the reasons I had for what I did! I had- have no one. I have nothing keeping me here.”

“You had me!” Joe shouted back at him.

“What?” Booker said with genuine surprise. He finally turned back to face Joe.

“You had me,” Joe said, he swallowed and took a deep breath. His eyes darted throughout the train trying to collect his thoughts, “You were my brother, Book.” 

Booker just stared at him. And after a moment Joe had no choice but to keep talking.

“Obviously you didn’t feel the same way, but I thought we were close enough that you could have confided in me. I would have helped you- at least I would have tried.” Joe finished his sentence, feeling utterly exposed.

“I-uh.” Booker stuttered.

Joe felt his anger drain away rather quickly at the sight of Booker’s complete surprise.

A long moment passed where neither of them spoke. Behind him Joe could hear nothing from Nicky, Nile, or Andy.

Booker stared at him as though Joe had just told him the earth was flat.

Finally, Booker broke the eye contact and stared down at the floor. Joe closed his eyes and brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing to speak.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Joe said, “You were my best friend Book. And I say that knowing Nile and Andy can hear me. You filled a place in my heart I didn’t know was empty. I thought I did that for you too.”

Booker didn’t respond, he just continued to stare at his feet. 

“You know, when we were on the plane to London, Nicky and I, and one of the guards told us they had left you open and bleeding at the Church. I took him to the ground and broke a rib before they pulled me off him. The guard who said he’d thrown the flash-bang that killed you? Nicky broke his arm.”

Booker looked at him with guilt and self loathing in his eyes.

Joe’s heart finally broke at that moment. Booker was so much worse off than he had ever thought.

“I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry, I don’t want to add to your guilt. I just- I want you to know I care about you. I don’t know if it would have made a difference if I had been better about letting you know that back then. I don’t know if it does now. But I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear, that we didn’t make that clear.”

“You’re apologising to me?” Booker said.

“Yes.” Joe said and gave Booker a small smile, “I’m still mad at you. But you fight with family, Booker. Brothers fight.”

Booker gave a small nod, and walked back past Joe to his seat.

Joe turned around to see Nile, Nicky, and Andy all staring back at him. Nile’s mouth was slightly open. Nicky’s eyes had a sparkle to them, Joe could tell he was proud of him. Andy sighed and disappeared once more behind the seat back presumably to lie back down.

Joe felt exposed and dangerously close to crying, so he ducked back into his seat as well. And then he did cry. First silently, and then a little louder when Nicky finally came back to sit next to him.

---

The mission was successful. Everyone worked together as if the last five years hadn’t happened. 

Once again they found themselves in a slightly less empty train car, this one an open freight car, but full of rescued kidnapping victims.

Nile was telling a group of particularly young children an overly acted out fairy tale. Nicky was at the edge of that group wrapping a bandage around a small boy’s arm. Andy sat with her back against the side of the car, trying her best to keep everyone in her sight.

Booker had just finished telling a group of four teens to try and get some sleep while they could.

Joe and Booker hadn’t said anything to each other that wasn’t directly related to the mission since the conversation on the train. And now that they were out of immediate danger, Joe couldn’t help but feel the hanging question in the air.

“This doesn’t change anything. Not yet.” Joe said to Booker as he walked up to stand next to him.

“I know.” Booker said flatly.

“I don’t think we’ll last the whole century though.” Joe added.

They stood like that, for a long time. Neither man looking at the other, preferring to feign busyness by watching over the increasing number of sleeping children. 

“I think you should talk to someone.” Joe said finally.

“And tell them what?”

“The truth. That you’re lonely. That you’ve been in a downward spiral for years and don’t know how to get yourself out again.”

“The truth?” Booker said sarcastically.

“Well,” Joe paused for a moment, “you should probably omit a few details.”

Booker chuckled and Joe felt a warmth in his chest.

Another hour or so had passed before Booker spoke again.

“I feel the same way you know.”

They were the only two still awake in the train car.

“Felt- I felt the same way.” Booker corrected, “I just didn’t want to play second fiddle to Nicky so I pushed it away.”

“Nicky is the great love of my life. Andy is a mentor and fierce companion. Nile already feels- I don’t know- I feel quite fatherly towards her.” Joe chuckled, “ I’m not sure how she would feel about that though.”

Booker nodded, and crossed his arms.

“And you were- you are- like a brother to me Book. You’re not second to anyone in that. I know you have your loneliness, and I know I can’t fix that tonight, but you are not alone. We all love you Book, even after everything that happened.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of their watch. Switching with Nile and Nicky as night turned to early morning.

They didn’t speak again until Joe was walking Booker towards the departures gate for his flight back to Paris.

“I mean it, Book. Talk to someone, at least try and sort through some of your shit.”

“I will.”

Joe pulled Booker into a hug. The first one he had given him since before Nile had joined them.

“I’ll see you in a few years yeah?” Joe said, suddenly overwhelmed with saying goodbye.

Booker nodded, and broke the hug first. He turned and disappeared into the airport.

Joe walked back over to Nile, Andy, and Nicky waiting by the curb.

Andy smiled at him, lines around her eyes already showed signs of age that they didn’t five years ago. He wouldn’t be able to keep Booker away for much longer, it wasn’t fair to Andy. It wasn’t fair to any of them.

Nicky slipped his hand into Joe’s, lacing their fingers together as the group walked away.

“I’m really proud of you,” Nicky said in Arabic.

“I miss him.” Joe said back in Arabic, squeezing his love’s hand.

“We’ll see him again. Sooner than you think.” Nicky said.

Joe believed him, and for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to seeing Booker again.

((Available on AO3 as well, link on my tumblr 💜))

[writingtoforgetreality]

“Who is she?” (Alexander Calvert x Reader)

Request: I would like to ask for something where Alex and the reader are dating and the two are part of the Supernatural cast, and they fake a fight in front of Jensen, Jared and Misha, but it ends in a cute moment. That's it lol. (by anonymous), [Actors-Masterlist]

Summary: You could not find the script you needed for an important upcoming audition. Still, you had to start practicing or you would not perform well. Luckily, Alex was always there to help you with your lines. But what would happen if things got out of hand?

Words: 1,937

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, argument, protective!Jensen, fluff, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

“Alex?” you were currently in your shared apartment in Vancouver. Searching for a very important script, you slowly started to go insane. You could have sworn you put it right on top of the coffee table. Why was it not there anymore? Maybe Alex had seen it.

“Yeah?” his scruffy voice made you look up. He came straight out of the shower, only a towel hanging low on his waist. On every other day, this sight would have been an invitation for you but you had to find this damn script.

“Have you seen my script? I put it right there.” you pointed to the place where you last saw it.

“Um, I don´t know...Are you sure you left it there?” Alex got closer to you and started helping you. First the living room, then the kitchen. Soon after, it felt like you searched through your entire apartment, without luck.

“(Y/N), it´s time to head out. We´ll be late.” he disappeared in the bedroom and came out seconds later in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Why bother wearing anything else when you had to change as soon as you were on set?

“Ugh, okay. I´m coming.” it did not make sense to you. You needed that script. There was a very important audition coming up. A big movie with TOM CRUISE. Yes, you heard that right. An action film where you would portray his love interest. This would be your chance to really start at Hollywood. Your role in Supernatural was the first start and the fans loved you a lot. Just like Alex, you came around for the 13th season. At first, you were only meant to stick around for a few episodes. Just some girl who was saved by Jack and brought back to the bunker. The fans seemed to like you and they almost immediately caught up on the chemistry Alex and you shared. When you started dating, the writers decided to make your character Jack´s love interest. Now, the last few episodes were about to air and you still had not found your next job.

Of course you worked on it to change that. Supernatural was your first acting job, you were not the most famous in this industry. Jared had already found his next role: Texas Ranger. Jensen will be a part of the third season of The Boys. You were incredibly happy for them but it also scared the shit out of you. If it took them this long to be cast in another project, how long would it take you? That was something you should not be thinking about during your ride to the set of Supernatural. You should start preparing for the upcoming scenes.

The first half of the day was very productive. Ever since the thought of shooting the LAST episodes has sunken in, the crew really wanted to bring the best out of every scene. Still, Jensen, Jared and Misha loved to mess with Alex and you. There had to be enough scenes for the gag reel, right?

As the director called for lunch break, all of you made your way over to the catering area. You were not hungry, thoughts still with your lost script. Maybe you should just give them a call to let them know that you needed another script. No, that would not leave a good impression.

“When do we continue filming today?” Jensen asked.

“Uhhh, around 3 pm, I think?” Jared´s answer was not really helpful. Most days he had no idea about your schedule. One of the reasons that made you love him even more.

“For once you´re right.” Misha threw in.

Everyone headed back to their trailers, wanting to prepare for the next few scenes and relax a bit.

“Can you practice with me?” you asked Alex as you were walking towards your trailers. You did not share those because they were very small to begin with.

“Practice what? We rehearsed our shared scenes, like, a hundred times last night.” he chuckled, amused by your uncertainty. He knew how you barely ever forgot your lines or broke character yet you still wanted to keep on running through your lines.

“Nooo, I mean for the audition. It´s next week and if I don´t start going through it now I´ll be even more nervous.” you came to a halt, waiting for his reaction.

“I thought you lost the script?” Alex turned around to look at you.

“Misplaced. Anyway, I know the story more or less. We could just improvise. Please?” your big (Y/E/C) looked at him in a way you knew he could never resist.

“In my trailer or-”

“Actually, I think right here, outside, would be perfectly fine.” your smile grew. You loved acting alongside Alex. This role was not meant to be his but he was always happy to help you with auditions. You did the same for him. Recalling what was written on the script, you tried your best to explain the story to him. It was easy, really, your character found emails from another woman, arranging meetings that go way back, like seven months. The scene you had to prepare for the audition was you confronting “Tom Cruise” which ended in a big fight.

“Got it?” you watched Alex´ face closely, looking for any misunderstandings. A nod from his head made you get into character.

“Hey, honey, I´m home.” your back faced Alex, your body language seemingly tense. He moved closer to you as you did not answer him. A hand was held out to touch your shoulder but as soon as it came in contact with you, you brushed it off angrily. Turning around with tears in your eyes, Alex was impressed by how fast you could make this role alive, without even saying a word. You truly were magnificent.

“DO NOT call me honey!” you managed to keep the tears at bay, thinking it would be better to let them spill a bit later.

“What´s wrong?” Alex gave you space, getting the sign of you not wanting to be touched by him.

“Oh, so you don´t have anything to tell me?” your arms crossed in front of your chest, your eyebrows raising, waiting for him to answer you.

“Um, I´m not su-”

“BULLSHIT! Bullshit.” the second part was barely above a whisper, showing that, despite everything you saw, you still cared for him. Loved him, even. Alex just stood there, knowing what your next words would be like.

“How long has this been going on?” your gaze was focused on the floor, not wanting him to see your tears that now started spilling.

“She doesn´t mean anything to me. You are the on-” but once again, Alex was cut off by your screaming.

“Did you fuck her?” your voice was small, not wanting to ask this question but desperate for the answer.

“Sweetheart, I-”

“DID YOU FUCK HER?” this time you screamed at his face. Your emotions were all over the place.

What neither Alex nor you noticed was Jensen, Jared and Misha storming out of their trailers due to hearing screams. When they saw the scene in front of them, they came to a fast stop. Did they just hear that Alex had cheated on their (Y/N)? Someone who was like a little sister to them? Jensen made himself ready to storm to you, wanting nothing more than to punch Alex. Jared and Misha, though, held him back.

“Yes.” Alex sighed. “But it´s not like she means anything to me.” he once again came closer to you. This time you did not protest. You were too exhausted to react to it.

“Who is she?” scared of what the answer would be, you took a step back but looked straight into his eyes.

“Cassie.” you read Alex´ face as regret but as soon as you heard him say the name you could have thrown up.

“CASSIE?! MY BEST FRIEND CASSIE?!” you lunged towards him and started punching his chest, too weak to do any damage, but you were angry and did not know what else to do.

That was too much for Jensen. He ripped himself free and ran towards you, Jared and Misha following close behind. A shove from the side made Alex and you separate. Suddenly you were pulled back by two strong arms. As you looked behind, you saw Jared holding you close to him. As you focused your gaze back to Alex, you were shocked to see him in Jensen´s grasp. You did not quite understand what Jensen was saying but it did not sound good at all.

“Jensen, stop!” you wiggled yourself out of Jared´s arms and ran to save Alex. You tried pulling Jensen away but he was too strong. Even Alex could not free himself.

“IT WAS JUST ACTING!” your scream erupted which made Jensen stop in his tracks. Slowly, he let go of Alex who coughed a few times.

“What?!” the confusion was written all over Jensen´s face.

“Alex and I were just practicing for my audition next week. You know, the one with Tom Cruise? I told you about that.” your heart was racing, your breathing too fast. Jared and Misha were already at Alex´ side, making sure he was not hurt.

“Shit, I´m sorry. Alex, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good.” he waved it off as if it was nothing. Typical Alex, you thought.

Suddenly you started laughing, replaying the scene in your head. Everyone looked at you weirdly but copied your actions soon after.

“Alex, he almost killed you.” by now tears were streaming down your face because you were laughing so hard.

“Hey, I didn´t even touch him.” Jensen complained.

“Oh yeah? Tell that my throat.” Alex stated sarcastically.

“That was acting?” Jared asked to which Alex and you only nodded.

“If you don´t get the job I´ll make sure to sue them, just so you know.” this time it was Misha who spoke up. This only made all of you laugh even more.

“Everyone back on set, please!” you could hear the director yell. Jared, Misha and you walked over, chatting and laughing about everything that just happened. Alex and Jensen, though, were a bit behind.

“Sorry again, kid. I really thought y´all were fighting. It sounded so real. You sure you´re okay?” he finished his sentence with a light chuckle, still somewhat ashamed of throwing himself at Alex like that.

“I´m fine, Jensen, really.” Alex laughed lightly. “Besides, now I know what happens if I ever hurt (Y/N) in any way.”

“You better take care of her and treat her like a princess. I´m serious.” Jensen had a stern look on his face but smiled anyway. You meant a lot to him and he could not bare the thought of anyone hurting you.

“I will. I promise.”

“Y´all coming or what?” you screamed at them from the other end of the set, waiting for the two of them so you could finally continue filming.

“On our way.” Alex said back, beginning to walk towards where you were standing. As he kept walking he thought about you again. How it was so easy for you to act out such a hard scene. Your talent amazed him. He really hoped you would land that role. From what he had seen so far, you were perfect for it. God, he loved you. It still had not sunken in that you were his. What did he ever do to deserve you? He knew he could not live without you and he would keep on reminding you of his love for you every single day.

Published (09/10/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @kalasyrtiaan, @blairrrose (thanks for your support <3)

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 14)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 2525

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​

**Song Inspiration: I Almost Do by Taylor Swift; 3AM by Halsey; When The Party’s Over by Billie Eilish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you felt like shit, and not because of the drugs and alcohol that only recently vacated your system. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Did you really kick Hayden out? Were you honestly that far gone? 

Yeah, he broke your heart. He wasn’t the first asshole to do it, but he did stick around. Maybe that was because he had to though.

No, you knew better. He had enough money to stay at a hotel, but he stayed with you. He cared about you. It just hurt so bad to not have him any more. You hadn’t said you loved him, not yet, but you did, you loved him with everything you had and he just… broke everything. 

 Maybe you should go apologize.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you slipped on a comfortable shirt and yoga pants before you trodded out to the guest room, Hayden’s room. You knocked on the door before poking your head in. 

Only, there was nothing there. All of his things gone. His suitcases absent. No note, no letter, not even a post-it note. 

A choked sob escaped you. You knew you kicked him out, but you gave him until the next night. He was already gone?

So much for staying. So much for caring. 

No text, no call, no letter. It seemed as if he truly did want to be gone from you. 

Fine. If that’s the way he wanted it… Wish granted. 

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

Months went by and you tried to forget him, tried to turn your pain into art.

Trey worked hard to get your EP ready. You had several tracks that you wanted to feature and he did enjoy your lyrics and tune. He was happy to work with you and the other members of your band to get the sound you wanted. 

By the time the singles were released, you were already becoming a hit. You hit all of the media platforms and your work exploded, sending you soaring to the charts. You weren’t quite topping them yet, but you were definitely being demanded on the radio and your Youtube and Spotify numbers were great, rising all the time. 

As time went on though, your addiction only grew. With Hayden out of your life, the glaring reminders that you lost all your old friends, and none of your old boyfriends seemed to ever love you, there was nothing to stop you from becoming nearly dependent on the drugs and alcohol. 

You’d never been like this in your life, but you’d never been at such an odd time in your life either. On every romantic and personal front, your life was a total flop, a zero sum. But your career, your dream job was finally taking off. The world was your oyster, you were rubbing shoulders with musical big wigs, meeting huge names and musicisinas. 

Between the complete amazement you were in from being discovered and having your heart broken for the last time, you were a mental mess. 

Hayden wasn’t just another guy. Jason was just another guy, just like every ex before him. 

But Hayden, he was different. When you and Jason split up, it wasn’t the man you mourned, but the death of yet another relationship. With Hayden, you missed him, not being together. You missed the light he brought to your life. You missed the way he supported you. You missed the way you two could joke about movies together. You missed how you could act completely goofy and silly and he joined in. 

You loved him, you were in love with him, and he pulled the rug out from under you.

That was why your habit of using coke was slowly getting worse. You managed to keep your job, for a while, keep the desires away. Then you started to get where you were barely sober for that too and just when your boss mentioned it, you decided it was time to leave anyway. You put in your two weeks and left gracefully.

As soon as you were no longer tied to the hotel, Trey put you in every lounge, venue, and club he could find. You were singing all of your songs on your EP. Every night you did a show, you got off the stage, got drunk or high, or both, and then you crashed. 

Same routine, every night. 

Anything to numb the pain of losing Hayden, of feeling like your life was in shambles. It wasn’t just losing Hayden, it was realizing you had no close friends, no one else to lean on. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, your lover. He was everything you ever wanted or needed, and he was gone. 

Neither of you had sent any messages to each other. It killed you, but you had to move forward, if that’s what you could call drowning your sorrows in a bottle or a baggie. 

Tonight, you just got done singing a set and you were hanging out with Darren, Veronica, Brad, and Tai. Unbeknownst to you, Hayden was actually about to make a stop by this bar. He had some contacts in your circle, a few people he knew in the music world that he asked to keep an eye on you, and if you got too out of control or needed help, they should let him know. He also watched your Instagram and Twitter, keeping an eye on your partying that way.

He’d gotten a few texts before about you, just an update on how you were, but tonight was a red alert from a guy that was somewhat in your circle. He watched you as you did a bump of coke, drink whatever was passed to you, and you were all over everyone in the bar. It was a sloppy mix of drunk-high. You held onto everyone, laughing, trying to crawl on the bar, making a complete ass of yourself. 

Typically your antics were cheered on because everyone in your scene was pretty wild, but even tonight some of them were worried about how you were acting. 

Hayden made his way downtown as soon as he got the text, looking for the bar. Finally, as he walked by, he saw you through the window. You were laughing, throwing your head back, hanging on other people, and trying to dance. 

You were a mess, and that was obvious. 

He pressed his lips into a thin line before going into the bar. He made his way over to you. He wanted to say he felt relief when he saw you, but he didn’t. He just felt worse. He wasn’t an idiot about your drug abuse, he also wasn’t stupid to see what had triggered it. He just thought it was stupid for you to get mixed up in this shit over him. He wasn’t worth it. 

He could see how it was affecting you. Dark circles painted your eyes, your clothes hung loosely on your body, you looked as if you were awake solely from the drugs. He hated how bad you looked.

“Hey,” he greeted loudly over the bar music and patrons. 

You looked over and saw him, your eyes going in and out of focus. “Oh my god, it’s you! Hey! Stay! Have a drink!” you encouraged as you fell all over him, putting your arms around him. In your current state, none of the pain that would’ve normally come from seeing him happened. 

“Hey, no, I’m good. This isn’t really my scene. Y/N, you seem really far gone, do you want me to take you home?” 

You pushed away from him, frowning. “What? No, why would I want that?” You reached in your purse and grabbed something, about to put it in your mouth. “I’m having a good time here, Hayden. You should try it,’ you urged giddily.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he demanded as he slapped the little white thing out of your hand. “Was that fucking E? On top of what you already have in your system?”

“The fuck is your problem?” you ordered, angry.

“My problem is you destroying your life and your body,” he informed.  “I’m taking you home,” he stated firmly. He started to turn you around and push you outside. Everyone started to look your way. 

“No, you aren’t!” you protested loudly, moving wildly, but he just persisted. He went around in front of you, grabbed your wrist, and tugged you outside and started walking you down the sidewalk until you got yourself free of his hold. “Jesus! What the fuck is your deal? Those are my friends. I’m having a good time!” 

“A good time?” he demanded, his voice reigned in anger. “You think this is a good time? You’re out of your fucking mind.” 

“Hey, Mr. Entertainment Business newsflash,a  party-girl image is great publicity. Trey encourages this so long as I’m fine to record.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that your producer endorses you getting high and drunk, as long as you’re off the clock.” 

“You aren’t my handler, you’re not my parents, yo’re not my baby sitter, so just fuck off.”

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. “If you want to stay here and become like---If you want to stay here and party, that’s fine, but I’m done. I’m done with this. I’m done watching you ruin your life and throw so much potential away. I’m not gonna stick around to watch you drive your self into rock bottom when I’ve tried like hell to get you to wake the fuck up.”

“You didn’t stick around! Newsflash, asshole! You left! You left me high and dry.” 

“You kicked me out!” he reminded. “After I tried to approach you about your addiction. And I did stick around, you just didn’t know it.” 

“You didn’t approach me about it, you attacked me about it. Besides, what the hell do you mean you’re not going to stick around or watch me? You haven’t been around.” 

Letting out a sigh, he ran his hand down his face. “When I left, I may have asked some friends to keep an eye on you. I told them to update me if you were getting worse or better.”

“You were spying on me?” you asked, gasping.

“No, I just had people keeping an eye on you. If they were at the same party or something, they’d just let me know how you were doing.”

“Oh, nice to know you cared so much,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You were getting more and more sober with the fresh air and the anger.  

“I do care. I think I’m the only one you know who does’ fucking care about you. I’m the only one not letting you just become an addict. I’m fighting for you.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing when you broke up with me? Fighting for me?”

He glared at you. He didn’t want to have this conversation. “Yes, I was. I was trying to make sure we were making the right choice.”

“Oh, spare me the bullshit!” you shouted, your head falling back. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of the lies. Just be honest with me. You didn’t care about me, you didn’t love me, you wanted a rebound. You weren’t worried about the both of us. You’re just like everyone else. You wanted something to distract you from your ex leaving you and I was the perfect replacement. Then when you got bored, you cast me aside.” 

“You weren’t a replacement! You weren’t my rebound,” he yelled. 

“Then what was it?!” you screamed. “Because from where I stood, you and I were perfect, more than perfect. We could spend time with each other, lean on each other, support each other, we lived together, I met your child, we had date nights all the time and all of that just -- you ended it. Without warning. We didn’t even talk about it. You didn’t even ask me how I was feeling, if I cared about you. You just decided for the both of us that it would be better if this wasn’t a rebound. But it wasn’t ever about that. It was about me taking putting someone else before me like I always do, and I’m the one who got fucking hurt, not you.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry that you got hurt. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It hurt me too. And it hurts like hell to watch you do this to yourself. You think I liked watching you come home high and drunk all the time?” 

“I don’t imagine it bothered you too much. We weren’t dating any more.” 

He shrugged. “So? Just because I’m not dating you, it doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about you.”

“See, in my world, it does. You don’t break someone’s fucking heart then try to tell them you still care. You’re the one who decided to date me. I asked, you shot me down. Then, when I was really happy, when I thought this was real, that we had a shot, that this was something that would last and you just ripped it away. No conversation.” 

He shook his head. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for that. I am. I should’ve talked to you, but is this really what you want? You want to be so numb and fucked up on drugs you can’t function?”

“I can function just fine, thanks for checking in!”

“I can’t believe you’re fine with this. You’ve been so strong since I met you. Going after your dream, working hard at your job, you never would’ve given into this bullshit, despite what happened between us.” 

“Yeah, well shit changes. Clearly you know that.”

“Nothing changed. I cared for you then, and I do now.” 

You scoffed. “Spare me, alright? It was clear to me after you left you never gave a shit. I licked your wounds so you could heal and then you left me. Fuck off. You don’t get the right to tell me where I can hang out, what I can do, or when I can do it.” You got in his face, your voice low before you turned around to head back inside. 

He stood there more upset than he had been when you two first broke up. He wasn’t sure what he thought he would gain from coming out tonight. He just thought he could save you from yourself. He knew he was the reason you went on the downward spiral but he didn’t know how to fix it. 

He bit his lip to keep from crying as he watched you rejoin your friends and pick up a shot glass and knock it back. He shook his head as he turned to walk down the street.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself, or to you. He needed to move on. He couldn’t watch you suffer any more. He had tried to help you. Every time he did though, you turned him down - hard. 

With his heart heavy, he took a taxi back to his new hotel and tried to forget all about you.

If only it were that easy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​

@magpiegirl80​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​​

@missinstantgratification​​

@thejemersoninferno​​

@rda1989​​

@munlis​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​

@kaeling​​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​

@damalseer​​

@heyitscam99​​

@yknott81​​

@sorryimacrapwriter​​

@glitterquadricorn​​

@bittersweetunicorm​​

@alyssaj23​​

@sea040561​​

@princess76179​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​

@sarahp879​​

@malfoysqueen14​​

@ellallheart​​

@breezy1415​​

@marvelmayo​​

@lyniboy​​

@paintballkid711​​

@pandacookieowo​​

@beiroviski​​

Hayden Christensen:

@coldlilheart​​

@haydens-moles​​

History Repeats:

@multifandomblog315​​

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 7

lmfao I love how I posted an update 2 days ago like “this fic will have sporadic posts! idk when they’re coming!” and then I spent the last two days writing this. when that insomnia inspiration hits ya gotta just go with it!

this chapter went in a completely different direction than I had planned on soooo yeah...honestly not sure where this is gonna end up! the characters from my OC novel that I’m loosely basing this story around didn’t have a connection before they ran into each other so when Julie gave me this I almost cut it because I genuinely wasn’t sure where it was going. I think I’ve almost figured it out and I’m pretty sure I know how this will end. and now we all get to laugh at me together because it’s definitely gonna be more than 3-4 chapters. it might even be more than 6. Luke’s POV will have roughly the same amount of chapters I think, possibly longer because boy oh boy does he have A LOT to say (most of it about Julie). fair warning: this one has an awkward cut off because of the way I need to set up the next chapter. sorry about that.

and now something I probably should be embarrassed to admit: I don’t remember writing the part where I managed to sneak an “I’ve Got The Music” reference in so now we know for sure this show has infiltrated my brain. it’s fine, I’m fine, at least I WILL BE WHEN WE GET A S2!!!! KENNY!!!! SAVE ME HERE!!! MAKE MY UNHINGED OBSESSIONS WORTH IT!!!!!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

It was no small miracle that Julie made it through the afternoon without Ray asking for details about her supposed ‘plan’ to play with the Sunset Curve boys. She didn’t think she would have been able to pull off spinning a story quite as well as Luke had earlier. She had expected at least a small amount of interrogating about when she had started playing again, but apparently the news that she was playing at all, let alone with other people in front of an audience, was enough for Ray to ignore all of the other plot holes involved in this scheme. He seemed to have almost forgotten the meeting with Principal Lessa entirely, humming on the drive home, kissing her forehead and turning her loose to freak out alone in her room while he sat down to work on his computer in the dining room. Julie took full advantage of the time alone to restlessly pace her room and send Flynn a 911 text. Her bestie’s contact photo lit up the phone screen 30 seconds later.

“Okay, I’m hiding in the basement girl’s bathroom, so you’ve got exactly 5 minutes before I get too grossed out to stay here.”

Julie’s chest loosened at the sound of Flynn’s comforting voice. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that loved her the way Flynn did. It was reassuring and made it easy for Julie to let loose.

“Lessa told Dad about the music program and then You-Know-Who ambushed us outside of her office and basically forced me to agree to perform with them.”

“Voldemort was at Los Feliz?!”

Flynn’s gasp was overflowing with sarcasm.

“Flynn!” Julie whined. “Be serious! Luke showed up out of nowhere again! And he did the thing again! The charming his way into getting what he wants thing! And now I have to play with his freaking band! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

There was silence for a moment. When Flynn spoke again her voice was softer, more serious.

“You don’t have to play with them, Jules. You can tell them no, and they’ll have no choice but to respect that. The only person who can make you do anything is you. But...I kinda think you might want to play with them.”

“What?! No!”

Julie’s exclamation was a second late. Flynn didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Julie sighed.

“Okay fine. There’s something about Luke that makes me want to play again. Are you happy? He gave mom’s song back to me when I thought it was lost forever. He’s the only person who’s heard me perform it, and he...no one else has ever made me feel that good about my music before.”

Julie thanked her lucky stars Flynn wasn’t in the room to see her blush. There was a long moment of contemplative silence on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, there was that extra note of take-no-shit in Flynn’s voice that made Julie sit up and really listen.

“I think you should give it a chance. Who knows, maybe this is some sort of sign from your mom. You said it was a miracle he would have even found that song in the first place. You said it felt like she was there with you when you were playing. Maybe she made sure it would find its way back to you when you were ready for it.”

Julie didn’t say anything, just worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. It had felt a little too perfect to be just a coincidence. The way Luke kept appearing in her life at the exact moments she needed him someone or something to help her keep moving forward. Flynn sighed.

“Look, I’m not saying it is your mom. But I’m not saying there’s not some kind of greater power out there that keeps pushing the two of you together. I think you should give it a chance. If nothing else, you can get back in the music program and we can bring Double Trouble to life in time for our Junior Showcase!”

Julie couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes felt misty, love for her best friend welling up in her heart.

“I never agreed to that name you know. But thanks, Flynn. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now. I gotta get the fuck out of this grimy ass bathroom. Love you, bye!”

Flynn waited for her to return the sentiment before hanging up.  Julie flopped back on her bed, letting her breath out in a loud whoosh as she hit the comforter. A glance at her phone told her she only had a couple hours until Luke and the other boys would be out of school and on their way to her house. She tried her best to ignore the way that thought made her stomach roll with a type of nervousness she would rather not name. It was easier to blame it on nerves over playing with new people rather than nerves over playing with Luke. Except...now that she actually thought about it, she had played with Luke before. Her head spun, eyes fluttering shut as she remembered the one music class she had shared with Luke last year.

She had only been a freshman, stuck in a lowly Introduction to Composition class. It was supposed to be for new songwriters. Julie had a little more experience than the rest of the class, after all she’d been kind of composing with her mom for a few years now, so when it had been time to write a duet for their final big project she had gotten paired up with the classmate whose skill level most matched hers. It was supposed to be a way for them to challenge each other and grow as writers instead of one person doing most of the work. Julie had been paired with Luke.

He’d been a grumbly sophomore, held back for failing his last semester of Intro to Comp the year before. He had been stuck there only for the second semester, forced to double up between their class and his second year Composition class. Julie hadn’t been all that excited about partnering with him. He hadn’t really seemed to care about the class at all, and even though Julie also sometimes felt like it was holding her back a little bit, she never once voiced that thought. It was a privileged mindset, and Julie was well aware that she had an advantage over her classmates since her mother was a professional songwriter. Luke, on the other hand, had made it well known that he felt like he was wasting his time just waiting to get through the semester so he could move up to the Advanced Composition class that he felt he truly belonged in. Julie could usually do no more than roll her eyes in those moments.

It was true that Luke was talented. His guitar playing was impressive, his lyrics were heartfelt and sometimes even downright poetic. Julie just didn’t think anyone deserved specific things in life because they happened to be naturally talented at something. Their songwriting experience had been...interesting to say the least. And short. It had ended abruptly when Julie’s mother had died 5 days later. In the end, they’d only worked together for two 40-minute class periods before she had been lost in the fog of grief that consumed her in the weeks following the loss of her mom.

Julie shot up in bed, eyes wide. She didn’t even fully remember what had happened with the half-finished song they had been working on. Errant notes echoed in her head, like a song that had only existed in dreams until now. She absently wondered if Luke had held onto that as well. It was no wonder she had kept that particular memory suppressed all this time. That time in her life had been particularly painful. Luke had been gentle with her though. Almost all traces of his typical arrogance gone in the two short class periods they’d had to work together. He had kept things light, steering their songwriting in the direction of a rock ballad more than a true duet. Julie hadn’t minded. She had been floating through classes by then anyway, on edge every second she was away from her mom’s bedside. It had been easier to work on something that didn’t have as many sappy emotions attached to it.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. No wonder Luke had been so sweet with her. He must have had a front row seat to her breakdown throughout the last year. She hadn’t even realized it. Had never before seen the way he watched her from a distance, checked in on her during class. She should have. Now that she was thinking about it, trying to identify every instance, she could name a million. How had she missed it for so long? How had he gone so long without saying anything? The Luke she remembered was terrible at keeping his mouth shut. He had always been ready to speak his mind, never afraid to start a discourse. It didn’t track that he had been holding himself back. Unless...it was more about her musical ability than anything else. She remembered now; Luke had been thrilled to partner with her for the duet. He had made some remark about how her sound was the perfect complement to his. Maybe he only cared about the ways they would mesh as songwriters. She could only hope that’s what his words had meant.

She felt more secure in her footing as a musician when it came to dealing with Luke than she ever had as a simple teenaged girl. If it was just about the music she could compartmentalize better, keep herself from getting too emotionally invested. Music had always been a safe zone, neutral. She breathed in and out deeply, remembering the technique Dr. Turner had taught her to slow her breathing and recenter her mind. She could do this. It was just about the music. They would play a song together, Julie would get back into the music program, and life would move forward much in the way it had before. Except Julie would actually participate in class this time. She had the music back in her soul, she wasn’t ever going to let it go again. On her next exhale, she heard the doorbell ring. Showtime. Julie zipped down the stairs, ripping open the door before her dad had a chance to get more than three feet away from his computer. Luke, Alex and Reggie all stumbled back a step as she tumbled outside, pulling the front door shut behind her. The three teenaged boys shared a look.

“Studio. Now.”

Julie raced down the path to her mom’s studio before they could react, not even waiting to see if they followed her. If they were smart, if they truly wanted to do this, they would. She hauled the garage doors open, only turning around when she had the piano at her back. The wood felt warm and solid, almost like she had her mom as a support behind her instead of an instrument. The boys appeared seconds later, Luke leading the way. He stopped a couple feet inside of the studio, studying her with wide open earnest eyes. She let out a deep breath. Reggie spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Woah, Julie, this studio is so cool! It’s like a tiny home! A musical tiny home in a botanical garden!!”

His green eyes were wide, expression awed as he spun to take in the space that Julie and her mom had spent countless hours turning into theirs.

“How did you get chairs on the ceiling?! Are you, like, a witch and a siren?!! Man, you and your mom must have made some serious magic in here.”

Luke’s arm shot out faster than lightening to backhand Reggie’s bicep. Reggie cringed away, a soft owww! just barely audible over the loud sigh Alex let out as he buried his face in his hands. Reggie shrugged, looking back and forth between his bandmates before giving Julie a confused yet apologetic glance. What had he said wrong this time? The giggle that bubbled out of her was as unexpected as it was welcomed. Warmth blazed in her heart, memories of the time she had spent in here with her mom washing over her with a kind of hazy bliss she hadn’t ever experienced before. She gazed at Reggie, letting that same feeling of motherly love from the night before fill her up. It was all she could do not to react to Luke’s jaw dropping when she gave Reggie a soft smile.

“We did. We made so much magic in here.”

The words were gentle and filled with a kind of genuine love that overshadowed all other feelings of awkward nervousness. Alex and Luke relaxed instantly, Reggie’s face losing all traces of uncertainty as he beamed at her with a smile so large it almost looked painful. Julie couldn’t help but let herself return it, just a little bit. The silence that settled between them was more comfortable, the tense moment from earlier broken. Julie studied the boys in front of her. She hadn’t ever thought of them as friends per se. They knew each other, would say hi if they encountered one another outside the walls of the high school, but at the same time, they didn’t actually know each other. Julie’s little run in with Luke the night before had made that painfully obvious. She wasn’t really sure what to make of them.

“Are you guys actually serious about this whole Showcase scheme? Did Luke even tell you about his dumb plan?”

“Hey! That plan is genius. Even your dad agreed. He seems pretty cool.”

Julie couldn’t help the fond way she rolled her eyes. Alex was quick to reassure her that they did, in fact, know about the plan.

“Not that I actually think it’s a particularly well thought out plan.” He stated with a lingering glare at Luke’s back.

The planner in question did his best to ignore the skeptical look on Julie’s face.

“Julie, you really don’t deserve to be out of the music program.” Reggie’s voice was soft and sincere. “You have the voice of an angel. If we can help convinced Ms. Harrison and Principal Lessa to give you your spot back it will be so worth it. And even if we don’t, it’ll be worth the looks on their faces when we rock the pants off that crowd!”

Julie laughed in spite of herself, slightly reassured even as she chewed nervously on her lip. Luke took a few bouncy steps forward, pulling her attention to him completely. His eyes locked on hers and she was sure she was drowning, throat tightening at the look he was giving her.

“You got this. I wouldn’t have come up with this idea if I didn’t believe it 100%.”

Honestly, that was what scared her the most about it.

“We don’t even have anything prepared.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, unsteady and wavering. Luke took a few more steps towards her, Reggie and Alex ghosting along silently a few feet behind him. Julie didn’t even notice, so laser focused on the brunette boy in the cut-up tank top in front of her. She watched his muscles flex as he reached into his back pocket, flicking out a piece of folded up paper in a move scarily reminiscent of when he had given her mom’s song back to her. He bit his lip, head ducking a little to be closer to hers as he unfolded the worn sheets of scrappy notebook paper. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, focusing on the messy handwriting in front of her.

“I thought you would say that.”

The smile on his face was so soft and sweet it should have been illegal.

“It’s called ‘Bright’. It’s a Sunset Curve song that we never performed because it’s missing something. Look,” his bare shoulder brushed hers as he shifted to point at the notes, warmth seeping through the thin material of her t-shirt, “it’s perfect for your range. I was thinking, if we add a little bit of piano here and here,” fire blazed a path up her arm as his fingers traced along the opening notes and chorus, forearm flexing against her own, bare skin brushing in teasing licks, “it’ll be perfect.”

Julie forced herself to focus on what he was saying, eyes roving across the paper. She hummed a little under her breath, hearing what he described in her head. His eyes lit up when he saw her get it, feet springing up and down as he dipped even closer towards her and started to sing.

We will rise, through the night

You and I

We will fight to shine together

Bright forever

His voice vibrated in her chest, the sound filling her with an emotion she couldn’t fully identify. Alex and Reggie bobbed along behind him, Reggie’s fingers plucking out the baseline on an invisible guitar while Alex nodded along to an unseen beat. Julie could envision the way the song would sound with a complete band, could practically see herself fitting seamlessly into the mix with her piano and vocals. She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she joined in, reading the lyrics off of the page.

And rise through the night,

You and I

We will fight to shine together

“Go up high.”

Luke cut in, fingers twirling towards the ceiling. Julie automatically made the adjustment in notes to harmonize her voice with his for the last line, holding the final syllable for a beat longer than him.

Bright forever

“Yes!”

Luke’s arm pumped up and down, bicep flexing and distracting Julie momentarily. She dropped her head shyly, trying to hide her blush. When her cheeks cooled a moment later she looked back up at the boy in front of her. His eyes were glowing, smile stretched a mile wide as he stared at her. Unconditional belief in her was practically oozing from his pores. She felt her face soften as their eyes locked, giving him her own sweet smile that was meant just for the two of them. She thanked him with a gentle murmur, heart melting as he simply bit his lower lip and nodded.

A throat cleared in the background, and Julie was snapped out of their private bubble by the sound. Her entire face felt engulfed in flames as she looked over Luke’s shoulder to see Alex and Reggie still standing a few paces behind him. Reggie’s face was bright, his sunshine temperament back in full force. Alex was a little more guarded, but he was giving her an encouraging smile and there was cautious optimism swimming in his sage green eyes as he fiddled with one of his drumsticks. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out in one smooth exhale. The same sort of peacefulness from the night before settled over her.

“Okay. Okay, so we’re doing this.”

Luke’s whoop was so loud both her and Alex jumped. Reggie raced forward with a cheer to sling one arm around Luke’s shoulders and the other around Julie’s, pulling them so close to his chest that their noses nearly touched. Julie saw the blush staining Luke’s cheeks and felt her own warm to match. Alex coughed again.

“Reg, c’mon. Let it settle for just a sec before you go all human octopus on the poor girl.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, Jules!!”

Reggie released both of them quickly. Julie flicked her gaze between the three boys, enjoying the glimpses at their band dynamic. Alex’s words had sounded a bit exasperated, but there was a fondness running through them as well. He gave a half-hearted roll of his eyes at Reggie’s abrupt movements and reached his own long arm out to pull the dark-haired boy close.

“Help me unload the van? I still don’t trust our little Lukey boy with my kit.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Luke sounded downright offended. The dark look Alex leveled at him in response had Julie choking back a laugh with a badly disguised cough. Clearly once of whatever he did was enough. Luke pouted, arms flexing as they crossed over his chest.

“You put your foot through my bass drum, and you think that isn’t reason enough not to trust you with it ever again?”

Luke sputtered, eyes flicking to Julie and back to Alex as his ears reddened.

“I told you I didn’t see it!”

“It’s the biggest part of the kit, dumbass. Literally the hardest thing to miss.”

Alex’s voice was as unimpressed as it was dismissive. Luke threw his hands in the air as the other boys headed out of the studio, laughing amongst themselves. It was clear this was a regular argument between the two, no heat or anger left in it, only a loving sort of tease. Like the way Carlos still brought up that time she accidentally gave him a concussion double-bouncing him off of their neighbor’s trampoline when he wanted something from her. Or the way her Tía would still laugh as she remembered the time her mom had almost gotten them both arrested for a bar fight on her 21st birthday, Ray affectionately filling in the parts that she tried to leave out. Warmth bloomed in her chest. This wasn’t just a band, wasn’t just a ragtag trio of friends. These guys were brothers. This was a family. And they were letting her into that intimate circle.

The thought was both humbling and nerve-wracking. This Showcase was a big deal. It wasn’t just some school assignment. This could impact their future as a band career-wise. They were all trusting her with this, fully believing in her, or at least, fully believing in Luke’s faith in her abilities. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever believed in her like that. Not anyone that hadn’t known her since she was in diapers. Her head swam, knees feeling a bit weak. She stumbled her way over to the couch, collapsing onto it with a barely audible huff. Luke was in front of her instantly, crouched down so they were face to face. His hands twitched in his lap, but he didn’t reach for her.

“Hey. Julie. Breathe.”

She sucked in a breath, zeroing in on nothing more than his face. After a few seconds she realized he was breathing in and out slowly, just loud enough for her to hear over the jumble of thoughts running amok in her brain. She matched her own inhales and exhales to his, the room slowly coming back into focus as her head cleared. He gave her one of those soft smiles she was starting to think of as hers.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I wouldn’t have stopped you in school if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it. I heard you last night. I listened to you for years before last night.”

His chin dropped in embarrassment for just a second before he pulled his gaze back up to hers. Julie felt like she was on the edge of a cliff. Not for the first time she wished she knew how long this version of Luke had been lurking under the surface. It took everything in her not to let herself step off that ledge and fall.

“Music is in your soul. It’s a part of you. Not everyone is like that, but you are. Your life without music...”

He tapered off like the thought was physically painful to him, eyebrows furrowing in a slight wince.

“Living without music would be like living in a world without stars: dark and empty and uninspired. You deserve galaxies, Julie. You deserve the chance to shine exactly like the star you are, and the world deserves the chance to hear you. Please, just...have a little faith?”

She saw it then. As he gazed at her with those bottomless ocean eyes, with that special smile on his lips and sincerity bleeding through every word, she knew. Luke was like her. Luke got it. In a way that no one else except her mom ever had. That’s what this was. They were kindred spirits, two sides of the same coin. And that feeling? The wind rushing through her hair and stealing her breath away while her limbs all turned to jelly feeling? That was definitely her falling head over heels off of the cliff and into Luke Patterson completely.

“Okay.”

She breathed out, and his answering smile set off the butterflies she thought had finally left her stomach. He stood up and held a hand out to her, easily pulling her to her feet in one smooth movement.

“You know,” his smile turned rueful, “eventually you’re gonna have to answer one of my questions with something other than ‘okay’. That’s a pretty passive word, and I’m not really a passive type of person. I wanna start hearing some ‘hell yeah’s and ‘awesome’s pretty soon.”

Julie rolled her eyes, moving away from Luke to set up her keyboard. He gave her a bouncy little shrug of his shoulders, and she let the levity of his joke wash over her, releasing the last bit of nerves. She could do this. Luke believed in her. Her mom believed in her. Hell, Alex and Reggie believed in her and she barely even knew them. She could do this, just like her mom had said.

Noise from the other boys making their way up the driveway had her rushing to pull both doors to the studio open so they could haul in Alex’s drum kit. The three of them left together to grab amps and guitars, Julie finishing the rest of the set up in the garage. Before she had time to overthink things or freak out again, they were all settled into their spots and Alex was counting down for their first run through. Fingers against the keys, Julie breathed out, opened her mouth, and began to play.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Amy Lee Of Evanescence On Women In Rock, The Freedom Of Artistry & Finally Being Able To Say What She Wants To Say

Music Feeds: Amy, thanks for taking the time to talk to Music Feeds. We’re particularly excited to talk to you at the moment because you have a brand new album out. How is existence treating you?

Amy Lee: Awesome. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me too. We are all just SO happy to finally have it out there! It feels really good.

MF: It’s quite a sonic adventure, this record. It presents all of the elements that people are accustomed to hearing from Evanescence and blends them with a whole bunch of new elements, was this a fun and rewarding record to write for you?

AL: It’s hard to sum it up in a word like fun because it is, it is so deep. There was definitely pain involved and challenge and all those things that lead to making something great, you know? It takes a little bit of struggle and we went through a lot to get to the place where we could write this album. I think the word that sums it up is satisfying. It feels really good to get a lot of this off of my chest. For me, this is partially due to having things to say that had been building for a while and having a new perspective to write from, but also musically, with the band, it shows how far we have come as a band and displays what it is that these guys and lady, that I work with now bring to the sound and that connection deserves to be documented. I really wanted a chance to show what we’ve grown into and it feels really good to listen to that back.

I think everybody’s feeling excited for the eventual day that we get to go play this stuff live again because for so long, our live show has been about making a great collection of our big back catalogue of music, but it’s all old, you know? It’s been a while since we’ve been able to really go, okay, “this is who we are now”. So having this now it’s going to be hard to play anything, but the new songs.

MF: I’d imagine it would be, especially given how much of yourself that you’ve put into the record. Now I know that you all went through a lot of challenges, both personally and as a band in the writing process, with some personal tragedies, the pandemic and even having one member stuck indefinitely in Germany, do you feel like those challenges added to the emotional intensity of the record?

AL: Yeah, I think that’s a good way to put it. It made everything more important. The music has been like this life-giving thing for us all to grab onto and to connect us to each other. As people, we’ve been so isolated, so expressing yourself and being able to share in that with somebody far away, makes it feel like we’re not so far away, on an internal, on a soul level, you know, we are connected. It has been so healthy for all of us to be able to pull together and have something to work for, something to fight for and build a world that we can control.

That’s something we all want so bad in a time when it just has felt like so much is out of control. So I think for us, to have this thing to care about and to focus on, has just been such a gift. I don’t know what I would’ve done without it quite honestly, I think it would have really gone insane.

MF: All of these situations also made you have to be pretty innovative in order to complete the record, finishing songs and sessions for the album remotely and thinking your way around how to be a band, without ever really being in the same room. In a strange way did that challenge make the writing and recording process feel like a fresher and more interesting experience? Do you feel that adaptiveness and creativity added something extra to the record?

AL: Absolutely, I really do. I’m a believer in that. I really, really, really liked breaking rules, especially when it comes to creativity. I like making music, making art; to feel like making art, it needs to feel creative and inspired and excited. When we were making our first music, when I was writing Fallen, I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t have anything to live up to, or I didn’t have a method that I could rely on. It was just creating a way for the first time. The more that I think you can tap into that, where it feels like you’re just, a soul scratching at something trying to make it come to life, the better the art will be.

You can be surprised by how many different ways that can happen. I was pushing us in a little bit of that direction with Synthesis, making the band kind of find a new way to play their instruments, where it would fit into an orchestral setting without heavy guitars and big drums or anything that sounded like those acoustic instruments, pushing them to find a new way. Jen learned how to play the theremin a little bit and made that a part of her thing. I learned to play the harp a little over ten years ago, I’m a piano player and they’re related, I mean, a harp is the guts of a piano, but it’s being plucked. So there are similarities, it’s sort of like French to Latin or something but different, it makes you play differently, and I wrote songs during that time on the harp a little bit, because it forced me to play differently. It made me write differently also and because of that, we got songs that weren’t like the way they would be, if wrote them with a piano as my route, like I typically do.

I think it’s really good to work outside your comfort zone and outside the box and to be challenged, it makes it exciting too. I don’t want it to feel like a job. I want it to feel like the fun thing. I want it to feel like the secret project because that’s how it should be. Right? Like your job is your job, that’s the cubicle that’s filling out paperwork and doing your taxes to be a musician. To be a creator, to be an artist, that should be the thing that feels like your freedom, your release, the thing you’ll stay up all night for, not the thing that you’re supposed to do.

MF: That’s a very empowering message and an inspiring message to give people too and I feel like you can hear that fresh inspiration on the record.

AL: Good! You know, having to, having to think around the problems, this time a lot of it’s been about the promo. We did get to get back together and be in the studio, all of us, except Jen, last fall and do things in a fairly typical way, which was amazing, but it was more humble like we were eating ramen and stuff so that we wouldn’t have to do takeout a lot of the time. Everything was a little bit more like early days, which felt good. It made it feel like we’re doing this because we love this, not just because it’s a cushy job. Having to think about making our own music videos or even this right now, like setting up the stuff where I have to film myself, that’s a new experience.

We even did Jimmy Kimmel recently, and they essentially said, “do it yourself, figure it out and send it in, and we’ll put it on the air.” It’s like, Oh my God, well, we’re all over the world, but we don’t want to pass up this opportunity. So you just have to find a new way and it’s amazing, the feeling that you can get at the end of that after you do it, the empowering feeling that really does give you like, “Hey, I did it, I did it!”. It means something to know that I cared about it enough that I tried and I made it happen and in the process, I’ve learned a new skill.

MF: You learned a lot of new skills in the process, especially when you’re talking about the videos, the fact that you shot two video clips on your iPhones… did you ever think that would be possible? And was it hard to get into the performative headspace to make that look as organic and as awesome as it does?

AL: It was really fun! It’s hard to explain it, but it really reminds me of being in high school and having a dream and doing whatever I could with what I had to make it happen. Once we got the idea we realised that it’s not like we’re going to be able to do production, so let’s make it about the soul, let’s make it about the point and the heart of the message and see if we can get that across and let that be the leading thing. That’s been sort of the guiding mantra about this whole time through last year and in the process too, has been: let the meanings lead, not the tempo, not the style. Whether it is deciding which songs come first, or what’s going to be a single, all those things really have come about this time by answering the question of “What’s the message we want to convey? What are the words we want to speak into the world right now?” Because this music, as much as it is for us, it’s more than ever feeling like it’s for everybody. So what, where are we now? And what, what could the world, you know, relate to or need?

MF: The messages on the record, are particularly strong. The obvious one is ‘Use My Voice’ but overall it seems like a record with quite a lot to say, and I feel like that might differentiate it from what people might have come to expect when it comes to lyrical content from Evanescence. Is your focus as a musician and as a strong voice in the community to just say what you mean now? Was there ever a point in your career when you felt prevented from doing that?

AL: I think the biggest preventer of things like that is my own self. The music for me has truly, always been the one place where I tell the truth, not that I’m a liar in real life, but the music is the one place where I’m not holding back from saying what I really mean. The one place where I’m not just keeping my mouth shut because I don’t want to deal with the fallout. So whether or not that’s always come across clearly, because I have been vaguer in the past with the lyrics, I’m not sure. But if you knew my situation and you knew who I was talking about at the time, it would have been a lot more clear.

It’s funny because we’re on a level now, where it’s not just me and my family and my friends who know me, it is about something bigger on some of these tracks and ‘Use My Voice’ is definitely the biggest one that is that way. That’s coming from me, pushing myself. I have been really pushing myself over the years on every album and challenging myself to be more specific and to say what I really mean because it feels good. The more that I can really let off, the more of a release it is for me to let some of those things go. It felt good and felt like, there was a higher purpose with ‘Use My Voice’ because we knew that we were going to be able to use it, to empower other people, and make positive change in our country and in the world, in the fight for democracy. It’s so important. It’s huge. If rock can’t be the voice for power to the people, then I don’t know what we have to do that? That’s our job!

MF: That is awesome. It’s also good to hear to an extent that you feel like it was always you that has been holding yourself back, and that you’ve grown through that, rather than it being a case of industry folk, holding those elements back. Because I think there’s a bit of a belief in the music industry that particularly at the start circa Fallen, that people wanted you to be something that you’re not. Those people around you were trying to force you into becoming Linkin Park or something?

AL: That’s actually true, that part, but I still wrote about all of that, I still wrote those lyrics. So I guess that was the start of me pushing myself.

MF: It seems that you were a bit of a trailblazer in the modern heavy scene, in many ways. When Fallen blew up it inspired a generation of new performers and it seemed to also open industry eyes to what female and femme-identifying acts could bring to that space. With this in mind, it would be remiss of me not to ask how you feel about the state of the industry at the moment in terms of its attitude towards the female and femme-identifying artists in the heavy scene?

AL: That’s the question, isn’t it? It’s not about women not being allowed to be musicians. They always have been. It’s about how we see the summary. So often rock these days is not in the mainstream. It’s boiled down to a teeny, teeny, tiny piece of the pie, and there’s only room for one face, and it’s a picture of a dude. Because that’s how people that are not rock fans see the genre. People that are rock fans know that rock music has never gone away, that it has legions of fans and thousands of fresh acts and perspectives, but whether or not these big mainstream gatekeepers are going to let that through, and show that as reality, is a different thing altogether. I think to an extent that people who don’t know a lot about modern rock music, still see it as a picture of something ancient, like an artefact of when they were kids. They still see it like Bruce Springsteen, or The Beatles, or these other depictions of old rock bands, when the truth as you know is that it has changed so much since then.

I do think that they’re making an effort now, I’m seeing an effort being made. I mean this last Grammys was all women in the rock category, In This Moment was up for the metal award, and I know that it’s not just about the Grammys, but it’s good to see that happening. I think that the world, our society is aware that this is a moment for different perspectives to have a chance to show their face and to shine and to say, “Hey, here’s, here’s something from my perspective”. I think that’s really, really important that we all are able to kind of see things through more perspectives than just our own. I think that is really the road to helping a lot of the issues in our world, in our society. Not thinking only from your little perspective of you and your hometown and what you’ve seen, and there’s a lot more out there and it doesn’t need to be scary. We just need to be exposed to all kinds of differences. It’s happening. Rock is definitely a place for all things, all people, you know. But it’s just gonna take time, you know, for that picture to change, when all it boils down to a summary, they need to stop summarizing so much. I will say as well, rock music is huge. There’s so much of it. We need a little more air time, please!

MF: Yes, yes, yes, definitely. Definitely more time, more perspectives, more diversity, more respect, more rock! I’m actually a rock singer myself. So I’m just sitting here nodding thinking that it would be lovely to be considered a worthwhile genre again, in a mainstream sense. Now, I do want to know something about you as a person, Amy. The band has a very distinctive, visual aesthetic and I’ve always wanted to know if that’s something that’s inspired by your tastes, the other things in life that you enjoy, or if it is just something that fits the music?

AL: That’s an interesting question. I feel like it’s both. I’ve always had a huge interest in the visual. It is essentially important to me and I always have ideas like when the songs are happening, when I’m making music when we’re in our world of creating, I’m constantly just seeing things in my head and thinking about ideas about how to bring the song to life with visuals. I’ll sit there thinking “ooh if we do a video, I need to see this happening” you know? Or, for example, with the clothing you see me in, I designed my own clothes. So a lot of the time what I wear either on stage or in music videos, I’ve made specifically for that purpose. It’s about being able to create a whole world and have a visual representation of who you are from the production too, on stage, it’s so important, it makes all the difference. It’s honestly, you understanding and accepting and putting out there a further dimension of what you are for people to tap into and to get and to relate to and perceive.

It’s hugely important to me, but it has to do with the music. You can currently see toys against a white wall, on a couch, in my house, so you can tell that my house is not entirely full of like black wallpaper and chains, if that’s what anyone was expecting. But I wouldn’t say that Evanescence aesthetic is straight-up metal either. It’s more complex than that. So it’s the side of me that is that trying to summarize the music in a way, in a visual mode, where it’s kind of like got some Victorian elements that represent the classical for me, and it’s got weird atmospheric things that kind of represent the electronic world, and of course it’s got the distressed elements and the darkness and the heavy feeling of the band. The more layers you can use to express yourself, the better.

MF: That makes a whole lot of sense. I honestly hadn’t connected the Victorian imagery and the classical music background before, but it absolutely makes sense to me now. Speaking of visual arts, you’re doing a very cool thing within that spectrum on this record, by releasing a graphic novel anthology that’s inspired by Evanescence music. How did that come about? And as a lover of the medium, that must be the most awesome thing ever, right?

AL: It’s so awesome. It’s so awesome! I have all these really grand ideas that would take way too much time and energy to actually do, while also doing my music career and being a mum and everything else that goes on in life, but this is something that I’m able to do because it’s coming from heavy metal. They came to me and were like, “Hey, we’d like to do this with you”, so instead of me having to find artists and put all this stuff together and create this world, they’re like, “Hey, we got it, we have the coolest, the best graphic design artists in our works in our sphere and the best story writers and stuff, and we want to do something based on your music”. So they came to me about a year ago and it sounded like one of those ideas that are too good to be true, where I was saying, “I’m in, now let’s see if this is just a bunch of meetings or it’s really going to happen” and it’s really happening!

The first two songs are in the works right now, it’s just so cool. I want to make this clear to our fans, it’s not my idea and my inspiration of the meanings behind the songs, presented as a visual. This is different artists and different writers for each song, getting an idea and being inspired while listening to the song and turning that inspiration into a beautiful graphic novel, based on their individual interpretation of the song. It’s so cool because it lets the music just take on more forms, have more lives, more alternate realities. I love it!

MF: I look forward to looking at every single one of these! Have you seen any of the graphic novels yet?

AL: I have, I’ve seen some of the stuff already and it looks really cool and I’m very excited. I have a little hand in it, giving opinions like do this, don’t do that, but for the most part, this is other creatives, just taking it to another place. It feels really good to see that happen.

MF: That’s so awesome. I’ve got to let you go, so thank you for talking to Music Feeds. I must confess that as a heavy music-obsessed teenager when Fallen dropped, I was all about it, so it’s great to see and hear you and Evanescence in such a great place as you’re putting The Bitter Truth out into the world.

AL: Thank you, that’s lovely to hear. It’s good to be back! It’s been nice talking to you, thanks for taking the time.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Taking Chances: Chapter Twenty.

Note: This is on the shorter side because this is leading up to some drama but before that said drama, I wanted just add a filler in. I really hope that you like this.

Enjoy!

===

Over the course of the next few weeks, Nicola concentrated on moving to the new house. Tina and Guy had been more than helpful by looking after Jasmine while she ran around town doing errands and trying to get the house organized so that the transition for Jasmine would be a lot easier. Eventually the time came for Nicola and Jasmine to move in and thankfully Jasmine transitioned really well. Tina being the sweetest human known to man, picked Jasmine up from school on Friday afternoon and took her home as well as groceries she had bought for Nicola and freshly made freezer meals for them for a couple weeks. 

"Thank you so much for everything Tina. You have no idea how easy you've made this move for me." Nicola said as she and the older woman stood in the kitchen putting things away.

"No need to thank me, we are happy to help and Jasmine is such a good kid." Tina replied, waving her hand. Nicola smiled and felt the happiest she had in a few weeks.

You see, things between Nicola and Taron were pretty much over. He had been trying to get her to talk to him but after he sent her a text telling her that her reaction was a stupid one, she decided that she had had enough. In her eyes, he was calling her stupid and that was the last thing she needed right now.

"No Mikey, not there." Jasmine said. She and Mikey were decorating for the new playroom that Nicola said she could have.

"Why?" Mikey asked as his slightly chubby hands came up beside his face in a shrug.

"That's where the baby goes." Jasmine answered a matter-of-factly. Mikey decided that he wasn't happy with the answer, thus ensued a little argument. Tina and Nicola rolled their eyes and walked over to where the little monkeys were.

"What's with the fighting?" Nicola asked, leaning on the door frame.

"I want the baby here like yours." Jasmine said, making Nicola's breath hitch in her throat. She could only hope that Tina hadn't heard Jasmine's answer.

"I don't." Mikey added, trying to snatch the calendar away from the little girl.

"No!" Jasmine screeched. 

"Everybody stop right now." Tina said. Even Nicola stopped and looked at her.

"Michael, you have to remember that you are the guest here. Jasmine, why do you want the sad face there?" Tina asked. Mikey crossed his arms and frowned at Tina in a typical toddler tantrum.

"Nacause Lina let me put one on hers." Jasmine answered. 

"That seems fair." Tina replied. Mikey grunted in response.

"That's enough out of you young man. Let Jasmine put the sad face there if she wants." Tina warned the little boy.

"But she said that we have to have a baby then." Mikey grumbled, taking Tina back.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Lina told me that the baby goes there nacause she is late." Jasmine explained. Nicola mentally facepalmed herself.

“I see. Well, why don’t you two come into the kitchen for a snack and once you have calmed down, you can go back to playing.” Tina suggested. Mikey and Jasmine jumped up and ran to the kitchen, racing each other and giggling as they went.

Tina and Nicola got them set up with crackers and hummus. Mikey and Jasmine quickly got over their little tiff and came up with another idea for the calendar but that didn’t stop Tina from wanting to talk to Nicola about Jasmine’s answers earlier.

“All done!” Both kids cheered when their plates were cleared. Nicola took the dishes to the sink while Tina wiped their hands. Once deemed ok, the little ones ran back to where they were previously playing in.

“So, do you have anything you want to tell me?” Tina asked, stepping into the kitchen. Nicola shrugged.

“Not that I can think of.” Nicola answered. 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” Tina told her gently. Nicola smiled and nodded. She wanted to tell her but she was so scared of what Tina would think of her and then there was the fact that Nicola still didn’t know what to do about the baby. She was still toying with the idea of getting rid of the baby.

“I won’t force you to tell me anything but please keep in mind that I am here for you whenever you want to talk.” Tina said as she pulled Nicola into a hug. Nicola returned the hug and tried not to cry. This is all she ever wanted and it’s something that she was so scared of losing.

=

A few days later while she was out doing food shopping, Nicola ran into the woman from Halloween.

“Well, well, well.” She snarked. Nicola simply gave her a small smile, already feeling nauseous. The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I can see why Taron likes you. You’re just like him.” She continued. At this, Nicola stopped in her tracks and looked at the woman.

“I’m nothing like him.” Nicola replied coldly. The woman's face dropped when she recognized the hidden pain in Nicola’s eyes. It was the same hurt that she once knew. A pain that only Taron could cause.

“He did it to you too.” The woman said somewhat nicer.

“What are you talking about?” Nicola asked.

“Didn’t tell you he was leaving until the last minute.” The woman said. Nicola tried not to look shocked.

“Brenna.” The woman introduced, holding out her hand for Nicola to shake.

“Nicola.” Nicola said, accepting the handshake.

“You up the duff too?” Brenna asked. The lack of Nicola’s reaction gave her away.

“I was when he did the same thing to me. I ended up losing mine and then he met and married Kate.” Brenna explained, unknowingly shattering Nicola’s heart and making her stomach churn even more.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I promise I’m not always a bitch.” Brenna said, handing Nicola a business card. Nicola took it and before she looked up again, Brenna was gone.

“Prick.” Nicola muttered to herself as she thought of the man that had hurt her so deeply.

Nicola finished her shopping promptly and went straight home to unpack everything before she had to collect Jasmine from nursery.

=

For the rest of the day, Nicola thought about everything Brenna had said to her and she was beginning to wonder if Taron would truly do something that horrible to a person. When she first met Taron, she would have definitely believed it but now that she had gotten to know him, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to believe it. However, just after tucking her sister in for the night, Nicola’s phone buzzed with a notification from twitter. She ignored at first but then when the device kept buzzing, she had no choice but to look and what she saw absolutely shattered her beyond repair. Pictures of Taron with a leggy brunette on his arm, both of them clearly drunk and clearly lusting after each other were everywhere. At that moment, Nicola wanted to hear everything that Brenna had to say.

“I take it that you saw the pictures.” Brenna said after listening to Nicola’s tangent on what she really thought of Taron.

“Who the fuck does he think he is, the queen of Sheba?” Nicola seethed, trying to calm herself down but the more she thought about him fucking another woman, the more angry she got.

“It’s just who he is. If you want to know more, why don’t you join me for lunch tomorrow.” Brenna said. Nicola nodded.

“Brilliant.” Nicola answered simply, really wanting stories of who this man really was and what he’d done in the past. She wanted the full truth and something told her that Brenna was just the person to befriend.

Both Nicola and Brenna hung up and Nicola went to bed that night feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from her. Everything that had happened between her and Taron only solidified the fact that he was truly a piece of shit.

===

Tag List: @sarahegerton96 @dangerouslcve @dogmom2014 @fuseburner @dragonstarre @jobanan23 @jolovesfandoms @lovefortaron89 @aberystwythboy @stronglyobsessed @hauntedflamingo @superthiccthighssavelives @cilldaracailin @hitmeonmytspot @rocknrollmadden

[havenoffandoms]

Hi! A little idea for your requests, if you don’t mind. A Jaskier x Geralt : Jaskier feels finally brave enough to confess his undying love to Geralt but each time he tries, something gets in the way. Yennefer and Ciri support him and even try to help (successfully or not). Fun and fluff please !!! I hope you find the idea interesting~ 🌟

Okay, sooooo I may have got slightly carried away with this idea and I won’t apologise for it. Your idea really inspired me and I think it’s the cutest thing. Jaskier and Geralt are just two idiots in love in this one. There is the slighest bit of angst at the end, but the rest is fun and fluff as you wanted it. I hope I did your request justice. 

Thanks for your ask! Hope you enjoy the read xx

Warning: teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff, mild swearing, smutty references, and mild canon typical violence

1.

Jaskier was known for many things across the Continent – his ballads, his poetry, his many, many conquests that often got him into trouble (and inspired many, many ballads) – but his bravery was certainly not one of them. The bard was painfully aware of this fact, and he thought that joining Geralt on his adventures would somehow remedy this, but he had been wrong. Nonetheless, after nearly twenty years of pining and admiring the Witcher from a distance, Jaskier had decided to tell Geralt how he truly felt about him. No matter the outcome, Jaskier would tell Geralt and finally get this secret off his chest. He needed to know if Geralt felt the same way and he was ready to face the possibility that Geralt only liked him as a friend. Geralt may live for several centuries, but Jaskier did not have nearly as much time left in this life and had to make the most of the time that he had left. Even if it meant spending that time getting over Geralt…

Jaskier had a plan. He would tell Geralt over dinner, the nicest dinner they could afford, which at present consisted of stale bread, meagre pieces of cheese and some fruit that had seen better days but would do just fine. The location would be wherever Geralt decided to stop for the night on their way to Kaer Morhen. They would likely set camp at the edge of the woods (moonlit dinner, anyone?) and probably start a fire for warmth – that classed as romantic, right? Jaskier knew he could not overthink this too much. He did not have the luxury of waiting until they reached a town with a half-decent inn that offered nice (and most importantly cheap) food. He would have to work with what he had, and at the minute all that mattered was that Geralt knew how Jaskier truly felt about him.

They stopped at the edge of the woods, as Jaskier had anticipated, with the added bonus of the mountain range in the distance backdropping their campsite. The bard noticed the white peaks as the sun set just behind the mountains, casting large shadows over the plains that stretched from their current location all the way to the foot of the mountain range. The surroundings looked nothing short of picturesque – not that Geralt, the big oaf, would notice it! He was too busy unsaddling Roach, gathering sticks for the campfire and gathering his dirty clothes from his back before tossing them on the muddy ground for Jaskier to deal with in the morning, as was usually the case. When the bard’s stomach began rumbling loudly, Geralt finally looked up and his amber eyes rested on his travel companion. He looked irritated, as per usual, but there was something else reflected in his cat-like eyes. Concern, perhaps?

“Here,” Geralt said, his voice gruff and raspy and sending shivers down Jaskier’s spine, “eat this.”

Jaskier barely managed to catch the piece of hard bread with his hands. He watched in a panic as Geralt strapped his swords onto his back and readied himself to leave.

“Wha- where are you going, Geralt?”

“Hunt. We need meat to last us the next couple of days on the road,” the witcher answered without looking at him.

“But… when will you be back?” Jaskier asked, trying not to sound as needy as he felt.

“When I’ve caught something, bard,” Geralt huffed before taking off into the woods without as much as a glance over his shoulder. Jaskier was speechless for a while even after Geralt had disappeared into the dark woods.

Son of a bitch!

***

“I think the best way to Geralt’s heart is through Roach,” Ciri told Jaskier over dinner one night. The young heir to Cintra and the bard had both hit it right off when they had met. Ciri enjoyed his ballads and his poetry, and Jaskier loved teaching her about the history of the Continent, algebra and even taught her one or two songs on his lute. The girl was a natural and he felt it would be a shame to let this talent go to waste. Of course the sword training with Geralt and magic lessons with Yennefer were a lot more glamorous, and Jaskier could not hope to compete with that. Yet, Ciri enjoyed the distraction nonetheless and often used her free time to visit Jaskier. She was like the little sister Jaskier had always wanted but never had.

“I don’t see how that’s helpful…,” Jaskier admitted after a minute of considering Ciri’s words.

“Geralt loves Roach. He has a special bond with her, and I think he trusts her instincts about people more than his own. I think if he were to see you bonding with Roach, he would considerably soften around you.”

Jaskier had to admit he had never thought of that before, but it did not sound like the worst idea. The following day, he decided to follow Ciri’s advice and headed to the stables early in the morning to be sure to beat Geralt to the chase. When he arrived near Roach’s stall he noticed that the mare’s ears perked up when she saw him coming. Jaskier made soft clicking noises as he brought his hand to pet her long head. The mare let out a happy snort as she nudged against his hand demanding more pets.

“Hey girl, how are you doing? I know it’s usually Geralt who takes care of you, but today I thought I’d come and say hi myself. You’re awfully more friendly than what Geralt makes you out to be, you know. I always thought the reason I couldn’t ride you was because you’re a temperamental little thing.”

Jaskier chuckled as Roach shook her head and huffed indignantly. The bard looked around the stables and spotted a bucket with brushes, hoof picks and mane combs. Blankets and leading rope hung inside the stall Roach was residing in, right next to her saddle. Jaskier went to grab the bucket and returned to the stall, opening the door gently as to not spook the mare. He entered Roach’s personal space and fished a body brush out of the bucket. He began brushing Roach’s coat, making sure to scrub the sand and dust out of her coarse hair as best as he could. His ministrations seemed to relax the horse judging by her steady heartbeats that Jaskier could feel through her ribcage as he slid his hand along her strong body.

“You know, I never realised how big you actually are, girl. You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you? And so sweet, too. Your coat is so silky. Geralt takes really good care of you,” Jaskier mused as he worked one side of Roach’s body.

“Of course I do,” a deep voice interrupted Jaskier’s actions and made him jump out of his skin, “Roach works hard when we’re on the road hunting monsters. The very least I can do is make sure she’s as comfortable as possible.” Geralt stared at Jaskier with a half-smile on his lips, his eyes soft as he watched the bard pamper Roach. Jaskier was not used to that kind of expression on the witcher’s face. The last time he had seen such kindness in Geralt’s eyes had been at princess Pavetta’s engagement festivities right after the witcher had saved him from yet another cuckold husband’s ire.

“I… I didn’t hear you come in,” Jaskier said, returning his attention to Roach and willing his racing heart to calm down. Geralt grabbed a second body brush from the bucket and got working on Roach’s coat as well. The mare let out a pleased snort at having both men take care of her.

“You were so lost in your own world that a troll choir could have burst into the stables and would’ve escaped your notice,” Geralt jested, making Jaskier stop in his tracks.

“My, my, Geralt, was this a joke? Who knew witchers have a sense of humour?”

“She likes you, you know?” Geralt commented, ignoring Jaskier’s sarcastic comment. The bard blushed at those words, and he was unsure how to respond.

“I like her, too. Despite her grumpy owner, she’s a surprisingly tame horse.”

“Hm… maybe it’s a blessing that she can’t hear your incessant singing,” Geralt teased, but his tone was light which told Jaskier that he was looking for a reaction. The bard was certainly not going to rise to the bait.

“My incessant singing is probably a nice change from the monosyllabic grunts she hears on a daily basis.”

Well, he tried not to rise at least. Jaskier dropped the brush in the bucket and retrieved the hoof pick. He kept a hand on Roach’s flank and allowed it to travel to her rump and down her leg to make her aware of where he was going. He pulled her leg up between his thighs and began picking out the dirt from between her hooves. Now was the time or never to tell Geralt how he felt about him, while they were both alone in the deserted stables and where no one could witness his humiliation if Geralt rejected him. Pull yourself together, Jask.

Deep breath in – 1, 2, 3 – and deep breath out. Go.

Just as Jaskier opened his mouth, he noticed Roach’s tail rise slightly out of the corner of his eyes. The movement distracted him long enough to momentarily forget about his intentions and before he had time to react, he felt a heavy weight land on the back of his head. Next thing he knew the stall was filled by loud and rich laughter and the stench of horse shit which had just landed on Jaskier. The bard stood frozen in place, unable to move and not wanting to believe what had just happened to him.

On the other hand, Geralt’s laughter was a sound that Jaskier wished he could bottle up and keep forever.

“Hardy-har-har… really funny, Geralt,” Jaskier mumbled under his breath as he stepped away from the mare and glared at the witcher, who was wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, it’s just…,” Geralt could not even finish his sentence before he was assaulted by another fit of giggles that brought fresh tears to his amber eyes. Well, Jaskier could definitely not tell him now… that would just look plain stupid.

“Yeah, I get it. Well, don’t just stand there! Help me!” Jaskier urged the witcher, who could barely contain his hilarity.

“Oh Jaskier… I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

Somehow, those words brought Jaskier joy despite the overwhelming humiliation he felt.

***

3.

“Yennefer, pleaaaaase,” Jaskier pleaded the sorceress, dragging out the vowels as much as he could and ignoring the irritated eye-roll.

“Oh fine, whatever it takes to get you to finally shut up about Geralt and let me get back to my work!” Yennefer snapped at him, slamming her book shut with enough force to make the entire desk rattle in protest. Jaskier smiled brightly at her.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Yen. My other attempts have failed dramatically.”

“So I have heard,” Yennefer said, a nasty smile appearing on her lips, “the smell of horseshit will follow you for the next months I can sense it.”

“Geralt told you, huh?” Jaskier guessed, feeling embarrassed at his expense all over again. Yennefer nodded, biting back the laughter that threatened to push past her lips.

“He told me and Ciri, and Ciri then told me what you had planned that day. I must admit that I felt slightly bad for you. So I’ll help you just because I’m sick of you and Geralt beating around the bush like blushing maidens who are too shy to tell her crush how she feels.”

“Wait, what do you mean Geralt and me... do you think that... he likes me back?” 

Jaskier was concerned that if Yennefer rolled her eyes any harder they would stay stuck like this forever. 

“Yes, dummy. Geralt is head over heels with you, how have you never noticed this before?”

“But... I...,” Jaskier was not too sure where he was going with this sentence, but as it seemed Yennefer was in no mood to wait any longer than necessary.

"If we’re going to do this, you need to do this my way, understood?”

Jaskier had a funny feeling that he would come to regret trusting Yennefer, but what other choice did he have?

“What have you got in mind?” he asked her, insecurity lacing his tone.

“Let’s just say we’ll have to hit where it hurts…,” she told him mysteriously, her smile growing more wicked and not exactly filling Jaskier with confidence.

***

Geralt grinded his teeth at the sight of Jaskier and Lambert in such close proximity. Vesemir had insisted that everyone stay several nights longer at Kaer Morhen and enjoy a feast together to celebrate the witchers returning to their former keep. There was plenty of food and ale to please everyone, and while Geralt thought he would take the opportunity to get drunk and finally admit his feelings to Jaskier, he had certainly not anticipated this turn of events. Ciri was sitting next to him but seemed blissfully unaware of his current emotional state. Why would Jaskier cosy up to Lambert of all people? His jokes were not funny, he had bad breath, not to mention a bad habit of drinking himself into an aggressive mood and physically Lambert had not much going for him either in Geralt’s humble and perfectly objective opinion. So why, oh gods why, was Jaskier looking at him like Lambert had plucked the moon from the sky?

“Aren’t they sweet together?” Yennefer cooed in his ear, only infuriating him further. Geralt barely managed a grunt as he brought his tankard of ale to his lips, took a large swig and all but slammed it back on the table, causing every dish in the vicinity to rattle. Ciri shot Geralt a quizzical side glance, which the witcher ignored.

“Why do I have a feeling that you did something shifty, Yen?” Geralt asked her, his voice barely above a growl as he watched Lambert pull Jaskier onto his lap. The sorceress merely shook her head.

“I don’t know Geralt, but I have to say it’s not your best quality.”

“Is Jaskier snogging Lambert?” Ciri asked, incredulity lacing her tone. Geralt felt every fibre in his body vibrate with anger and his blood boiled in his veins as he watched Lambert’s hand wander over Jaskier’s body like he somehow owned the bard.

Lambert had no fucking right to touch his bard.

Lambert would soon regret his decision to paw Jaskier like he was nothing but a common whore.

“Hey Vesemir,” Geralt was not acknowledging Vesemir but he knew that he had his mentor’s attention nonetheless, “have you ever heard of a witcher developing abilities to fly after undergoing the trials?”

Geralt noticed Yennefer, Ciri and Vesemir eye each other questioningly out of the corner of his eyes. The older witcher looked as puzzled as the rest of them.

“I have never come across such a case, Geralt. Why the interest?”

“Just making sure Lambert won’t survive a fall from my bedroom window,” Geralt announced as he rose from his chair and headed towards where Lambert and Jaskier were sitting. He ignored Vesemir and Yennefer’s protests, his eyes locked on Lambert who seemed to pale when he saw Geralt approach.

“Geralt, to what do I owe the…”

“Knock if off Lambert,” Geralt snapped at him, his anger only amplified by the fact that Lambert still had his arm wrapped around Jaskier, “Jaskier, how about you join me and the others over there…”

Although he had phrased it as a question, Geralt had definitely meant this as an order… something Jaskier picked up on and did not appreciate judging by the indignant expression on his face.

“I like it here, thank you very much.”

Those, as it turned out, had been the wrong words to use. Geralt had to actively calm down his nerves so he would not pummel Lambert to the ground and wipe off that cocky smile off his face.

“You heard the bard, Geralt. So piss off and go huff somewhere else.”

“There’s something I would much rather do,” Geralt said before landing a punch to Lambert’s face.

***

“What was that all about, you big brute?” Jaskier yelled at Geralt as soon as he found the witcher standing on the balcony of his room, brooding by himself as per usual. Geralt did not reply; in fact, he did not even seem to acknowledge Jaskier’s presence, which infuriated the bard to no end. Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and pulled on it with enough force that it attracted Geralt’s attention. The witcher groaned in warning, but at this point Jaskier did not care if he was punched in the stomach. He needed answers.

“I could ask you the same question, bard,” Geralt snapped, his voice low and menacing. His amber eyes narrowed as Jaskier stood toe to toe with him, not showing any willingness to back down.

“I’m allowed to snog whomever I please. You aren’t my father and don’t get to tell me what to do, Geralt!”

This had all gone terribly wrong. Yennefer had suggested making Geralt jealous by flirting with Lamber, and at the time Jaskier thought it was a brilliant idea. He never thought that Geralt would act out like this. Much less give him orders like he had a say in Jaskier’s life and actions.

“I will tell you what to do when it means keeping you safe!” Geralt hissed back at Jaskier, and despite their barely noticeable height difference it felt like the witcher was towering over Jaskier.

“Keep me safe from what? Lambert is your friend, not a vampire or werewolf that you’re hunting. You know what, this was all a terrible idea, I should never have listened to Yennefer and her stupid ideas.” Jaskier did not wait for Geralt’s reply and meant to storm out of the room, but a large hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back.

“What do you mean by that?” Geralt demanded to know, but Jaskier was done talking.

“Let go of me, Geralt!”

“Lambert may be my friend, but I know what he’s like. I’ve seen it before. There’s been times where I partnered with him on hunts when we were younger. I saw the way he sweet-talked to women, promised them the world and took them to bed. You… you deserve better than this, Jaskier.”

Geralt’s words caused Jaskier to pause. It did not make sense. Since when did Geralt care who Jaskier went to bed with? And more importantly, since when did he care how these encounters left him feeling?

“This was all Yennefer’s idea. I was never interested in Lambert. I just… wanted to make you jealous,” Jaskier finally admitted, his voice small. He felt like a child who was being scolded. He braced himself for Geralt’s rejection.

“Why did you and Yen want to make me jealous?”

“Because I was sick and tired of seeing you two pining for each other and both being too cowardly to do anything about it,” Yennefer’s voice interrupted their little conversation. Jaskier and Geralt both looked up and saw Yennefer and Ciri standing at the door, wearing the same unimpressed expressions on their faces.

“Yen, stay out of this,” Geralt growled under his breath, but the sorceress merely smiled patronisingly at the witcher.

“Oh Geralt, I am in way too deep at this point. Either you two admit that you have feelings for each other, or I swear to the gods I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Jaskier gulped audibly at Yennefer’s words, and as soon as Geralt felt his anxiety he pulled the bard closer to him. Geralt positioned himself before Jaskier so he was shielding the bard from Yennefer’s attacks. Yennefer and Ciri cast each other knowing looks at the witcher’s actions.

“I believe my work here is done. Geralt, don’t mess this up.”

With these final words Yennefer and Ciri disappeared leaving Geralt and Jaskier alone. The witcher kept his back turned to the bard, almost as if unwilling to face him now that his dirty little secret was out. Jaskier, on the other hand, could not have felt happier if he tried. Yennefer had been right. Geralt liked him back and that was why he had reacted the way he had upon seeing Lambert and Jaskier together.

“Oh Geralt…,” Jaskier whispered, running his hands along the broad shoulders and down the thick arms, pulling a shudder from the witcher, “and here I was worried that you would reject me.”

Geralt finally turned around at those words and hesitantly placed his hands on Jaskier’s hips, his eyes scanning Jaskier’s face nervously. Without any words being spoken, the witcher leaned closer and placed the softest kiss on the bard’s lips.

That was all the reassurance Jaskier needed as he returned the kiss. Safe to say they would not be leaving Geralt’s room any time soon.

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

The End of the Line – Update and You Asked, I Told (Part 1 of 2)

Hi, friends! I have completed my move and gotten settled in to my new apartment and state and job, so I’m back here to answer some Asks and give a writing update.

In the past couple of months, I’ve somehow managed to crank out about 45,000 words of BW. All the way to the end. Yep. BW is DONE. I literally cannot believe it. It needs some quality time with the beta, and I want to catch up on answering comments, so I’m (tentatively) planning to post the rest of the chapters on Veterans Day, 11/11/2020. I remember commenting to someone that I would have the whole fic done by Veterans day 2018 but hahahahahahaha [sob]. As of right now, I believe it’s going to be three more chapters, and you can decide if you want to binge them or draw it out. I’m also planning to do a select list of works consulted, but I will probably attach that to the BW timeline when I get it done rather than tack it onto the end of BW.

I’ve also started outlining a new fic that I’m excited about. It’s a BuckyCap canon divergence story that’s been percolating in my mind for a few years and has done about 400 evolutions. I was planning to move on to an AIDS fic, but that would require so, so much research, and honestly, I’m researched out after BW. I need a break. But there will be some similar themes, so if you’re here for more emoshy angst, there’s more coming your way. In first person!

I’ve cleaned out my Tumblr inbox and am posting my Ask answers in two batches. I’m feeling less quarantined out and consumed with my move, so I’m going to continue working toward being more responsive more quickly. Moving forward, I might just answer the asks as they come up rather than batching them. I dunno.

The following contain spoilers for everything up to the latest chapter of BW. 

Starting with some love (thank you!) and progressing to questions. 

Oh, thank you so much! I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying it alkfjalfjsakjf!

Thank you so much! It’s something I’m seriously considering, actually. Although I could never publish BW the way it is (it’s far, far, FAR too long for any publisher to pick up as-is), I am planning to go through the manuscript after this and re-write the essential story in hopes of de-Marveling it and shopping it around. I’ve been playing around with the idea of even trying first person, since the character voices are so strong, but I love close third a lot too, so I’ll have to play around with it.

I appreciate your patience, and I’m so happy that you’re into it enough to wait so long for the damn thing to come out!

I’ve written a lot of layers into the story in hopes that it will have decent re-read value – for those brave enough to read a 700k word fic more than once. But honestly, it’s so complicated sometimes that even I lose track of all the things I’ve woven in throughout. Part of it is that it’s a very different animal from where I started, both in terms of story and style, and I had some places I planned to go but then diverted, so there may be artifacts of old ideas floating around, I’m sure!

You’re so right that the avoidance response is unbelievably strong for them, and part of their relationship goals (in my mind, anyway) is for them to be more direct in expressing what’s going on with them and what they need. As for the photo album, I can totally imagine this playing out – a nice family get together, some familial razzing, a highly triggered person trying to keep his shit together, but it’s Bucky, and emotion regulation is still not a very strong suit for him. So, presto. Awful picture night shenanigans.

As for Steve and his judgement call here, I agree that it’s definitely not the best. But I kind of wanted to show him as also being a vulnerable person who is struggling with this and wants relief from it. I think it’s more typical in fic to have one person is traumatized and the other who is this unwavering, grounded rock that is relatively unaffected by their loved one’s trauma and can provide appropriate support. Which is great! People like this absolutely exist. But this stuff with Bucky has really fucked Steve up, too, in addition to having his own trauma. He’s also feeling very distant from Bucky now, and one of the ways that they have historically gotten close is to have sex. It’s their go-to coping strategy as a couple. Don’t talk, fuck. So I thought it made sense that, on this night of vulnerability, they might resort to that.

(See Baghdad Waltz Timeline ) Yeah, he was twelve, which is right before his family moved to New York. I’ve been sprinkling the episode around many chapters and don’t plan to go into a whole lot more detail about it TBH. It’s not essential to know all of the details, I don’t think. However, more will be revealed about Bucky and Jack’s relationship and how Bucky feels about him/felt about him, so hopefully that can provide a little context for it. Bucky has a lot of conflicting feelings about Jack and what happened to him, so we are forced to look at it through the eyes of a highly unreliable narrator. I hope future chapters (or chapters after this Ask was sent), will shed a little light on this.

You’re spot on that Bucky totally minimizes it. Especially with Steve, knowing that Steve both needs to roughly know and probably will lose his mind if he knows the whole story. It was a brutal beating with some significant injuries that needed extra medical attention. As a side note, Bucky undoubtedly lied about having any surgeries, etc. in order to get into the Army.

Thank you so much! I’m fully aware how emotionally exhausting this story can be, and I’m never quite sure whether or not to be apologetic about it. I’m not aiming to sensationalize anything or manipulate feelings out of readers or characters, truly. My guiding star is asking, okay, given everything, what would happen next? Not necessarily what *I* want to happen next, but what would these characters do now? Certainly I throw some circumstances in their way, but a lot of the emotional and relational responses to these are me trying to unflinchingly show what would happen with these two particular people with these two particular psychologies and histories. 

As we can see, for as much as they love each other, this relationship is highly problematic. And these people are really struggling individually. I do try to show the good parts too, to balance things out, because I don’t want to shy away from those either. I’m always hopeful that the balance doesn’t become so out of whack that people nope out of the story.

Oh my God, I know. I think about that sometimes as well. Bucky was a highly skilled military professional, though I do wonder if this is one of the only environments that would have allowed him to avoid his own trauma quite this well. The military is such an all-encompassing career, one where, especially at higher ranks, you work ALL. THE. TIME. When you’re working all the time, when everything is about the men, about these extremely intense deployment experiences, there’s very little room for the past to creep in. It’s the perfect avoidance strategy. 

Moreover, the highly rigorous structure was excellent for Bucky, who tends to spiral out if he’s not operating within very firm boundaries. A lot of people with emotion regulation problems like Bucky’s can do very well in the military because of this. But when he lost that, so violently, it was the perfect catalyst for everything to come careening back to him. Especially when he really toned down the drinking. This is life for a lot of veterans, though certainly not all, or even most. But Bucky’s relationship with the military was absolutely symbiotic, yes. It is sad.

This is one of Bucky’s attempts to earn favor with his new friends in New York, so good catch on the lie. Someone with an affectionate nickname obviously must have been liked, right? The last thing he wanted to do was have a repeat of his experience in Kentucky, so he put on a very good show and bullshat his way into a good social situation in New York. It’s not really bullshit though, because he’s a likable person. But I imagine he assessed the way he was, quiet, thoughtful, sweet, and probably decided nope, I’m not gonna be those things here. Not again. Some of the stuff, like his thoughtfulness and sweetness, couldn’t really be suppressed. But he did a lot of impression management in New York, including the creation of this nickname for himself.

Now, on to Part Two! See you there. 

[jacklyn-flynn]

This entry is particularly special to me! @charlatron co-authored  this as a sequel to the fantastic fic she wrote me called Fire & Blood which you can read here. It involves her sex positive Olivia Trevelyan meeting my lovely, if not naive Warden Briall. They immediately hit it off and once Zevran arrives, all three get to know each other better. 

I’ve written the third in the series for her Satinalia present and we’ll be posting that after this week so keep an eye out for more of our OT3, lemony goodness!

Hi Liv! 

I so enjoyed spending that week with you! I’ve been talking about you nearly the whole trip home and I’m sure Zevran has had enough of it. I really wish you two could have gotten to know each other. I’m sure you would both get along swimmingly. 

He did tell me something that I wanted to address. Honestly, it’s a large part of my decision to write to you before we got home. I have to apologize for my behavior. Zevran informed me that you were, in fact, hitting on me. Or rather, as he put it, you were giving me the “fuck-me eyes.” I truly hope that I never said or did anything to lead you on or make you uncomfortable! 

I really enjoyed having another woman to talk to. I wasn’t really comfortable enough with Leliana to discuss relationship things and you were just so easy to talk to! 

Again, I’m so sorry for my obliviousness. I’m afraid I’m still not really good at picking up things like that. I suppose I should have guessed when you talked about your experiences with other women. I’d never considered it before so I’m not sure what I would have done differently if I had noticed. Zev has brought up several ideas. I’m pretty sure he likes the idea of someone else joining us. I don’t know how I would feel about sharing my husband's affections with an incredibly beautiful woman who is far more experienced than I am! 

But, it is fun to think about, isn’t it? 

Curiously, 

Briall

P.S. Zev absolutely loved that thing you suggested I do. Thank you!

_

My dear, sweet Briall,

I was so happy to receive your letter - a fact I had not expected to be true when we parted ways. I have not previously put much effort into maintaining acquaintances, and rarely dwell on the absence of a person’s company, but I feel as though I found a true friend in you. A kindred spirit, perhaps? It fills me with a certain kind of warmth I haven’t felt in an age to know that you speak of our time together with such fondness. 

As for that extremely perceptive husband of yours, it seems he was able to deduce more in a few seconds than you did in almost an entire week; for I was, in fact, “hitting” on you. I have to admit, I had forgotten how it felt to have my “fuck-me eyes” fail quite so spectacularly, but for all my failed attempts it did at least mean I was able to cultivate something entirely different with you. Something rare and wonderful.

You are a remarkable woman Briall, inside and out, and I apologize if this admission of my initial intentions makes you feel at all uncomfortable.

There is something I feel I should tell you, however. Upon reading your words “But, it is fun to think about isn’t it” I remembered a dream I had, that last night we spent together. 

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I did not just remember... I think of it often. I would say I’m sure you can imagine what kind of dream I am alluding to, but let us be honest, your track record for understanding these things is not the greatest (I am laughing as I write this).

I’m talking about sex, Briall. You, me, and that ridiculously pretty husband of yours doing the most wondrously filthy things to each other, and when I woke up… well, I haven’t been that disappointed in a very long while. 

So, in answer to your question: yes; it really is fun to think about.

I do sincerely hope you’ll write me back, though understand if the contents of this letter dissuade you from doing so.

Hopefully,

Olivia

P.S. Empowering, isn’t it?

-

Dearest Olivia, 

Your letter certainly didn’t make me uncomfortable! I was rather expecting something along those lines, now that I have been educated in all of the things that I missed during our time together. Perhaps a bit embarrassed, but not uncomfortable. 

I was far more embarrassed when my ridiculously pretty husband saw me furiously blushing over your letter. I didn’t plan on disclosing our private correspondence but as you can imagine Zevran is very persuasive.

Now that I know your erotic intentions I find myself thinking about them and what I might have done differently. A lot. Certainly, nothing would have happened without Zevran's approval but, unsurprisingly he has given permission without even having to ask!

Zevran is a very skilled man (and I mean very) but there is something appealing about being pleasured and pleasuring someone who knows exactly how it feels. Which is to say, I would absolutely need lessons but I'm positive I would have at least two volunteers for tutilage. I am a very quick and motivated learner.

My experience is extremely limited, and I've often wondered what might have happened had I not met or committed myself to my gorgeous Antivan. 

Perhaps sometime in the future, I might find out?

Curiously,

Briall

-

Dearest Briall,

I am glad to hear that my confession did not elicit any negative feelings - and even more so to learn that such delightful curiosity might even be encouraged by your amore. Clearly, he is far more secure with your relationship than most spouses tend to be.

Genuinely I am uncertain if you intended for your last letter to tease me so, but, for the purpose of my reply, I have decided to assume you do in fact know exactly how such words would have been received. 

One thing I am certain of however is that you would indeed be a very fast and extremely thorough learner - and I would very much enjoy the opportunity to assist in providing such intimate education. 

Amongst other things - namely how sweet your cunt tastes when brought to climax - I do find myself wondering exactly how open-minded this seemingly perfect husband of yours is. 

And... on a completely unrelated note, I have had to alter the course of my travels and will soon be arriving in Denerim. I’ll be staying at the gnawed noble for a week or so... should that be of any interest to you?

Patiently yours,

Olivia

-

Dear Olivia, 

I apologize for the delay in the delivery of this letter. It had nothing to do with your previous correspondence though I’m sure you must have thought so! As it turns out, Zevran and I are on our way to Denerim as well to visit our dear friend, Alistair. We happened to get caught in a large storm and I didn’t dare send the poor raven out in it. By the time you get this letter, we should be only a few days from the city.

Zevran is excited to meet you properly and I am ecstatic at being able to see you again! (Assuming you don’t mind his company. We’re rather a package deal.) We will have so much to catch up on and so many new things to discuss. 

I would definitely not be interested in staying at the Gnawed Noble. I have less than fond memories of that place. As such, I’ve written ahead to the staff and requested one of the Orlesian suites in the palace. In typical Orlesian fashion, the beds are nearly twice as large as normal in that wing. If you would be interested in spending the latter part of your trip with me and Zevran in our suite at the palace, we would be glad to have you. 

Because I can be less than clear I want to state, in writing, that I am inviting you to share said bed with us. Preferably naked most of the time, with very little actual sleep going on. I’m so nervous my hand is shaking as I write this! All of the possibilities running through my head are absolutely thrilling.

Despite my jitters, you can rest assured that I am excited and very sure of this little adventure! Zevran is as well, regardless if he is just an observer or participant. (I can promise that you would very much enjoy and benefit from his participation.)

Until we arrive, you have full use of the suite should you like to use it. Just mention my name and they’ll set you up with the lodging, including all of the palace’s amenities and all of the food and drink you can stand. 

Affectionately and excitedly,

Bri

[paganvamp]

Saving Grace: Chapter Six

Maja realizes her curse may not have completely failed after all...

1001 AD: The Curse

Maja had been feeling strange for days now. The dreams of the girl had continued, some happy, some tragic and bloody, but that wasn’t what was causing the ill feelings. She had been having headaches, different from the psychic headaches she’d become accustomed to. These were throbbing, every noise too loud, every light too bright. Even smells were too much, sending waves of pain through her skull. She had begun to avoid going outside in bright sunlight, preferring evening or nighttime. The sun was too much — too hot, too bright. It wasn’t just her senses that seemed heightened, though. She was growing stronger, despite having less food in the caves than in the stable village, and faster, her stamina and endurance increased seemingly overnight. Perhaps even worse than the physical changes, though, were the emotional ones. She was moody, sometimes seeming even more kind and dedicated than usual, and sometimes seeming bitter and impulsive. Her siblings couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. Esther’s grimoire, which they had managed to save from Mikael’s rampage, offered no explanation, nor did Maja’s own. Nils, Maja’s brother, had even come across a healer who had assessed Maja, but he too was perplexed.

No one knew what to do, who to ask.

But Maja did.

She always trusted her instincts, even when her emotions seemed in complete disarray, and for the past three days, every instinct in Maja’s body was telling her to find Elijah. It was more than a hunch that he would provide some answers, it was a need — she needed to see Elijah; only then would she understand, only then would things be okay again. Of course, explaining that she wanted to track down the family that had caused them so much misery in the first place was not going to be easy.

She began with Frida, her closest sister.

“I know that it doesn’t make sense, sister.” Maja couldn’t explain her feelings and didn’t desire to. “But this land is plagued with werewolves and newly turned vampires, and their constant, bitter battles. Fleeing to Arles might be our best chance.” She’d heard tell that the majority of the original children had fled their father’s rage by way of southern Gaul, so that’s where she would go.

“How would we get there? Our family cannot afford passage on a ship, Maja.” This was the worst part of her plan, the part she dreaded the most.

“Not our whole family, that is true. But we have enough for two of us.” Frida looked aghast at the suggestion of further splitting their family apart.

“You would have two of us find shelter in Arles while the other suffer here?”

“Of course not, Frida. I would have two of us go to Arles, where we could find a home and send for the rest when possible.” Frida worried her lip, considering.

“Which two?”

“Tyvold is needed here, as are you, to care and provide for the little ones. Ludvig and Linnea are too small. It would have to be Nils and I.” Nils, the second son, was old enough to make the journey with Maja, but young enough that caring for the twins, Ludvig and Linnea, had never truly been his duty. Frida was a capable enough witch, and Tyvold good with an ax and a sword. Maja and Nils could part from the family with little chance of harm to either of them. Maja watched as her sister’s resolve crumbled, and together they went to convince their brothers.

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

Maja and Nils had not been in Arles a week before they heard the news of the Mikaelson family, as the Gauls called them. Despite Nils’ protests, Maja found herself wandering through the door of their stately home with two goals in mind. The first, and her main reason for coming, was to speak to Elijah about what might be happening to her. The second, though no less important, was to persuade him to either send for the rest of their family, should they need to stay longer, or provide for the journey home. It won’t be a problem. Everyone seems compelled to do anything they ask.

“Maja?” She turned to find Elijah, clothed in finery and obviously stunned to see her. Relief like a tidal wave poured over her at the sight of him; that strange moment where you finally draw in a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Elijah looked furtively around, likely to make sure none of his siblings had spotted Maja, before crossing the room to her side. “You can’t be here. If they find out what you attempted… you must leave.”

“I need — “ how to explain this? “I need to speak with you. Please, Elijah.”

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

“So, it’s been happening to you, as well.” Maja blinked at the calm, pensive man before her, confused as to why he seemed to have all the answers, despite that being the exact reason she had tracked him down. Then his words sunk in.

“You mean the same things have been happening to you? The headaches and mood changes?” Maja doubted that, even if he had experienced the sudden surge in physical ability that she had, he would have noticed. Vampire strength and speed were already unmatched.

“No. That is, not exactly.” Elijah guided her to a chair. After giving in to her pleading, he had ushered her into a rarely used backroom and away from any inquiring eyes or ears, ‘just to be safe,' he’d said. He was remarkably paranoid that something awful would happen to her should she be discovered. Finally able to think clearly for the first time since they’d fled the village, Maja had asked Elijah to compel one of the serving girls to bring a note to her brother, informing him that she was all right and all was going to plan. Nils had also been paranoid about Maja’s safety, though for slightly different reasons. “The things you’re experiencing, Maja…” his tone brought her out of her thoughts; he sounded like he was dreading what he was about to say. “It almost sounds like you’re… transitioning.”

“To what?” He couldn’t possibly mean…

“Into a vampire, Maja.”

“That’s preposterous!” She cried. He hurried to quiet her. “I have not ingested anyone’s blood and I most certainly haven’t died.”

“I know. That’s what is so strange about this whole situation. As I mentioned, I have experienced strange feelings lately as well. Not as though I were transitioning, but as though I were feeling someone else’s feelings.” Again, Maja was dumbfounded by what he was suggesting.

“But you can’t do that. I do that.” But then Elijah shook his head, as though she’d misunderstood him.

“No – I don’t mean I’m feeling everyone else’s feelings. I mean the feelings I have aren’t always my own. At least, they don’t feel like my own.” He’s talking about the mood swings. A voice in Maja’s head was shouting at her that she’d been an idiot because they weren’t always just mood swings. He was right. At times, she felt things she’d never felt before, felt them as though they were completely natural to her — a stubborn, almost destructive loyalty to her family, a rigid moral code, and a very handy ability to keep remarkably calm outwardly even though she was panicking inside. While she certainly had her sense of right and wrong and loved her family very much, it wasn’t to that level, and Maja had never been able to master that last one. She tended to wear her emotions on her sleeve — or at least, on her face. She sometimes saw those traits in others — her father’s unwavering nobility, her friend Ida’s stubborn dedication, Ayana’s calm and quiet demeanor — and envied them, but those were isolated incidents, something she never paid great attention to. In fact, she’d only ever made notice of those three traits in one person: in the one person standing across from her right this moment. A picture started to form in her mind.

“What, specifically, are those feelings?” She spoke the words carefully as if the both of them might shatter any moment.

“Well, first there was an uncharacteristic… stubbornness. I may be determined, but I have never been defiant, until recently.” That was true. Out of the two of them, Maja had certainly always been the more ‘defiant’ one. “I’m also more intuitive lately, especially concerning other people’s character.” Again, something Maja was familiar with. “Along with that came a greatly appreciated, though uncommon, sense of optimism. Traveling through the countryside with my siblings was… draining, to say the least. But there were times when I couldn’t help but point out the bright side of the situation to everyone, much to their annoyance I’m sure.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that? Sometimes pointing out the bright side is the only thing you can do to make it through.” Elijah looked at her like she’d missed the point. It took her a moment, but his meaning finally clicked. “Me. Those all sound like… me.” And, as she’d already noted, her own mood swings mirrored Elijah’s typical emotions quite clearly. “So, what, we’ve… traded personalities?” How such a thing was possible, she had no idea.

“Not at all. Most of the time I’m completely myself. Though there are other times when I am neither you nor myself.” Yes, Maja had experienced other mood swings uncharacteristic of both of them. “I am angrier, more prone to impulsive decisions. I’m short with my siblings, cross with the servants.” Maja nodded, showing she had felt the same things.

“I feel as though I’m… spread too thin. Stretched across an insurmountable distance until pretty much anything can get under my skin.” When Elijah next spoke, Maja felt her world slip from under her feet.

“‘An insurmountable distance’… such as an ocean?”