#i’m the one who puts blood sweat and soul into training to be strong

[excaliefur]

oh fuck y e s

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

[lifeofpriya]

I’m so chronically online here and I’m so sorry for another request please take your time.

Affectionate things that make you fall in love prompt list - 10 and 18!

Thank you again!❤️

you got it! 🤭🫡 sorry if the fic is a bit short though 😭

Heart Eyes and Rants

wc: 1.4k

"And Angela had the gall," you rant, your eyes flashing with indignation, "to say that my report was 'just okay.' Just okay? After all the blood, sweat, and tears I put into that project!"

Jack, with his chiseled jaw and piercing gaze, listens intently, his eyes never leaving yours. You can see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words, his strong arms folded across his athletic chest. He's not saying much, but you know he's there, fully present in the moment with you.

"I mean, seriously," you continue, pacing the room, your hands animated as you gesticulate wildly, "who does she think she is? She's never even stepped foot in the office, let alone contributed anything to the team!"

Jack nods slowly, his expression a mask of understanding and empathy. He's not one to engage in workplace drama, but he gets it. He gets you. His silence is comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold night.

You pause in your rant, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. The room feels smaller as you realize you've probably raised your voice a few decibels. You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm the storm inside you.

Jack's eyes never leave you, his gaze unwavering. He's so handsome, even when he's just listening. Those intoxicating hazel eyes seem to see straight through to your soul. You catch a glimpse of the fading light outside the window, casting a soft glow across his tanned skin. The muscles in his arms flex slightly as he uncrosses and recrosses his legs.

"Thanks for letting me vent," you murmur, feeling a bit embarrassed by your outburst. He offers a gentle smile, reaching out to take your hand in his. His touch is firm yet gentle, the calloused palm a stark contrast to your soft one.

"You know you can always talk to me," Jack says, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. You sit down beside him, his body heat a comforting presence. You lean into him, feeling his muscles tense and then relax as he wraps an arm around you.

You take another deep breath, letting the tension of the day seep out of your shoulders. "It's just… she doesn't get it. She doesn't understand what the rest of us at the office go through," you admit, your voice quieter now.

Jack nods, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. "It's okay," he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek. "You're amazing. You're so much more than 'just okay.'"

You look up at him, your eyes brimming with emotion. The weight of the day's frustration feels a little lighter with his words of support. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart under his sports tee. "You always know what to say," you murmur, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Jack's eyes soften, and he pulls you closer, his other arm coming around your waist. "That's what I'm here for," he says, his voice low and soothing. The room is quiet now, save for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing by outside. His embrace feels like a safe harbor amidst the chaos of your day.

You breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat from his recent training session and the faint aroma of the mint shower gel he uses. It's familiar and grounding, reminding you that, despite your frustrations, you're not alone. His hand moves to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing small circles that make you shiver.

"I've had days like that too," he confesses, his voice a comforting rumble. "Where it feels like you're fighting against the tide and no one notices."

You nod, nestling into his chest. His heart beats a steady rhythm, soothing the ache in yours. "It's just hard to deal with sometimes," you reply, your voice muffled by his shirt. You feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes, a living testament to his empathy.

Jack's hand moves from your neck to gently cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his gaze. "You're doing great," he says firmly. "And I'm here to help you through it." His eyes, those pools of hazel that have seen the highs and lows of countless tennis matches, are filled with sincerity and love.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin. The anger towards Angela starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of gratitude for having Jack in your life. You lean in and kiss him softly, tasting the remnants of his minty toothpaste. The kiss lingers, a silent promise that everything will be okay.

Jack pulls away slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Hey," he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, "you want to hear a joke? It might help take your mind off things."

You give a small laugh, feeling the tension ease. "Sure."

Jack grins, his dimples deepening. "Why did the tennis ball go to the party?"

You cock your head, curiosity piqued despite yourself. "Why?"

"Because it heard there would be smashing fun," Jack says, his grin widening.

"I hate you," you reply with a contagious laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. The tension in the room dissipates like mist in the sunlight. His joke, simple and corny, is precisely what you need. It breaks the seriousness of your earlier rant, bringing a lightness to the atmosphere that you hadn't realized was missing.

Jack's laugh joins yours, the sound filling the room like music. His grip on you tightens briefly, then relaxes as he leans back into the couch, pulling you with him. You settle against him, feeling the firmness of his chest beneath your cheek.

"I know," he says, still chuckling, "it's terrible, but it's the kind of terrible that makes you feel a little better, right?"

You nod, snuggling closer to him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His arm around your waist tightens slightly, and you can feel his muscles shift under the fabric of his shirt as he adjusts his position. You're suddenly aware of every little detail about him, from the way his chest rises and falls with each breath to the way his fingers tap idly against your skin.

"Yeah," you admit, your voice still laced with amusement, "it's terrible, but I needed that."

Jack's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have a few more where that came from if you want."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. "Sure, go ahead, I dare you."

Jack leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he says, "Why couldn't the tennis player go out with anyone?"

You tilt your head to look at him, curiosity and a hint of annoyance playing on your features. "Why?" you ask, challenging him to make you laugh again.

Jack whispers, "Because he was always serving up love, but nobody could return it!"

You laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room, your body shaking slightly against his. The warmth of his chest vibrates with his own chuckles. "Okay, okay," you concede, "you're funny."

He winks at you, his hazel eyes alight with humor. "I try," he says, his smile never fading.

You feel a warmth spread through you, a comforting sensation that starts in your chest and radiates outward. The stress of the day seems to melt away in his arms, his corny jokes and unwavering support acting like a salve to your drama-filled day. You look up at him, taking in the planes of his face, the curve of his cheekbones, the way his hair falls into his eyes. He's so beautiful, so perfect in this moment.

"Thank you, Jack," you say sincerely, your voice soft. "You always know how to make me feel better."

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "Anytime, love," he murmurs. The endearment feels right, a gentle reminder of the bond you share. You both sit there, basking in the warmth of each other's company, the world outside the windows fading into the background.

Jack's hand starts to trace patterns on your back, the rhythmic motion soothing and calming. You close your eyes, letting the comfort of his touch wash over you. The sound of his heartbeat is steady and reassuring, a reminder that no matter what happens at work, you have him.

You tip your head back to look up at him, his eyes still holding yours. "You know what I really want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack's gaze is filled with curiosity. "What's that?"

"I want to forget about work," you murmur, "I want to just… be with you."

[hybriddh]

The Weight of Silver by HybridDH

second, second, second.

Is that all I am?

Is that all I’ll ever be?

A shadow in someone else’s victory,

A quiet name, a quiet smile,

Holding back the hurt all the while.

second, second, second…

It’s okay, I tell myself,

If they’re happy, I’ll stay on the shelf.

Their joy means more than the place I stand,

I’m just here—offering a steady hand.

I did my best, gave all I had,

But maybe second isn’t so bad.

second, second, second.

I’m learning to be fine with that,

No need to wear the winner’s hat.

As long as they shine, as long as they glow,

I’ll stay behind, I’ll let them go.

What’s a trophy but a piece of gold?

I still have warmth; I’m not left cold.

But… sometimes…

Sometimes I wonder,

If I could have done more,

If I could’ve pushed just a little harder,

Would I have stood at the top, instead of under?

Would the world have seen me, too,

If I had been bold, if I had pushed through?

second, second, second.

I carry the weight, I bite my tongue,

It’s alright, I tell myself—I’m still young.

There’s time to win, time to shine,

But what if it’s never mine?

What if second is where I always stay—

A step behind, watching the day?

SECOND, SECOND, SECOND!

WHY IS THAT ALL I EVER HEAR?

I DID BETTER, I WORKED HARDER—WHY ARE THEY THERE AND I’M STUCK HERE?!

I WASN’T JUST CLOSE, I WAS PERFECT, I KNOW I WAS!

YET HERE I STAND, IN THE SHADOWS, BECAUSE… BECAUSE WHY?!

SECOND, SECOND, SECOND!

I AM NOT OKAY WITH THAT!

I WANTED FIRST, I DESERVED FIRST!

WHY SHOULD I WATCH FROM THE SIDELINES,

WHILE THEY BATHE IN THE LIGHT, WHILE THEY RISE?!

THEIR VICTORY FEELS LIKE MY LOSS,

AND I’M THE ONE PAYING THE COST!

SECOND, SECOND, SECOND!

DON’T THEY SEE?! DON’T THEY KNOW?!

I GAVE EVERYTHING, I BENT, I BROKE!

BUT NO ONE CARES FOR THE SECOND PLACE NAME,

THEY ONLY REMEMBER WHO WON THE GAME!

I AM BETTER THAN THIS!

I SHOULD HAVE WON, I WAS THE BEST!

BUT I’M HERE, SILENCED, LIKE I NEVER GAVE MY ALL.

IT WASN’T LUCK THAT PUT ME THERE,

IT WAS BLOOD, IT WAS SWEAT, IT WAS TEARING MY SOUL BARE!

AND YET, WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW?!

A SILVER BADGE? A HOLLOW GLOW?!

NO! IT’S NOT ENOUGH!

IT’S NEVER ENOUGH, AND IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE!

I WANT WHAT’S RIGHTFULLY MINE,

I DESERVE TO BE FIRST, NOT FORGOTTEN IN TIME!

I’M TIRED OF SMILING WHILE THEY TAKE MY PLACE—

IT SHOULD BE ME, NOT A SHADOWED FACE!

second, second, second…

The anger simmers, but begins to fade.

It was all I could be, for now.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be okay somehow.

The fire inside still flickers bright,

But the rage cools in the softening night.

I tried my best, I gave my heart,

And even though I wasn’t first, I played my part.

Next time, though…

Next time, I’ll try again.

I’ll climb the ladder, I’ll take the win.

second, second, second.

The sting has dulled, it’s quieter now.

I’ll rise again, but I don’t need a crown.

I’ll fight, I’ll push, I’ll grow in skill,

And soon enough, I’ll crest that hill.

I won’t let this hold me down,

Won’t drown in thoughts of defeat, no frown.

This isn’t where my journey halts—

It’s just a pause, a lesson from faults.

I’ll push, I’ll stay strong,

Even if the wait feels long.

I’ll earn my place, I’ll earn my crown,

No more self-pity, no more looking down.

second, second, second…

It’s where I stand today, but not forever.

I’ll rise higher, I’ll sever

These chains of doubt, this silent sting,

One day, I’ll be first—just watch, you’ll see everything.

If I fall short again, I’ll rise once more,

Because second today doesn’t shake my core.

I’m more than this, I know my worth—

And one day, I’ll take my rightful first.

No more anger, no more pain,

Just focus, steady like the rain.

I’ll train, I’ll push, I’ll give it my best,

And one day, I’ll stand above the rest.

second, second, second…

I’ll wear it for now, with a quiet grace.

But I know deep down, I’ll find my place.

The time will come when the world will see—

I’m not second forever, and soon I’ll be free.

So, I’ll keep moving, I won’t slow down,

I’ll earn that gold, I’ll earn my crown.

Because today’s defeat is tomorrow’s drive—

And with each step forward, I’ll truly thrive.

[song-of-yohan]

…and as I latch my gaze to the sky, the thoughts keep rolling, questioning none but the nothingness—why am I being here, once again?

It has been days since the release and Yohan—not being able to do much things remembering the two places he’s currently working are both in temporary shut since the owners aren’t in their best condition.

So here he is, instead of getting himself busy with the ingredients in the kitchen like usual, he exiled himself to the nearby sport center in order to soothe his boredom and the troubling thoughts that have been lingering around since the day he accepted the invitation. Today, he’s simply trying to entertain himself by watching the youngster practicing various martial arts, ranging from boxing to MMA while mopping the floor around, helping the owner of the place for free.

He knows, it will help him in the future.

But in other hand, he feels like getting himself on an unbreakable leash—his freedom is being slightly held.

However, the sound of crowd cheering two boys sparring on the ring somehow piqued his interest after breaking his trains of thought. He, staring from afar, paying full attention toward those two with chin rested on top of the mop stick he used previously. The flinch, the wince, the furrowed brows, the pursed lips, the scrunching nose, the grit upon his teeth—many have been displayed on the facade of him but content.

Fruit of years fighting harsh reality, he sure knew a move or two since he can’t always depend on his knife. And by watching the matches—he understands the importance of upgrading himself remembering the future path he chose to take earlier. Swift, critical actions, but not enough to force someone’s soul leave its body.

“There’s no more?”

Cocky tone and smug expression written all over his facade and Yohan just tilted his head down, hiding the blooming crooked smile—he realized how his arms have been ticklish to be raised, maybe landing one or two jabs right to the lad’s face but still able to hold himself back thankfully. He quickly regains his composure and raised his arm, earning most of the attention averted to him.

“Can I try?”

Laughter. The fucking discriminative laughter. Yohan chose to close his eyes for a while before deciding to fulfill the invitation—coming up to the ring. The glimpse of blood, sweat, and tears are everywhere. Those fights must be fiery enough to leave prominent traces that way.

“Shouldn’t you at least, wipe those off?”

“A fighter should put their surrounding as a complement to their fight. Not the other way around.”

“Oh, look who’s talking here.”

“It’s Yohan. Song Yohan.”

“Pretty name, just—“

“OH—!”

“I’m here to spar, not to flirt.”

The other male, who’s now busy wiping his dripping blood from the nose, finally brings his gaze to meet other’s. Shiver sent right to his spine, his awareness being raised in a sudden.

The leave now or just die stare truly pierced him. Figure straightened and he’s currently in the fully ready position to fight Yohan. An easy target.

Feint punch. Other arm jab.

Straight jab.

Upper cut.

All of those efforts and none just came to a void since Yohan was quick enough to dodge those attacks, picking his opponent’s anger up.

“Why are you keep dodging my attacks?”

“Why not?”

Noticing the other male is now letting his guard down, he doesn’t waste the chance and just bring a strong punch to land on his jaw, knocked him down instantly. A smug smile on the facade, his adrenaline rushed. Gaze met and low chucklings aired. His brow raised as he switched back to his ready-to-fight mode.

“You—“

DING!

“Wait, I need to answer this.”

Nonchalant gesture showed by the male as he just raised his arm, stopping the other in the middle as his hand dipped into the pocket, trying to fish his phone out. Yet the already launched punch can no longer be stopped, causing a slight brush upon his skin, causing it to sting a bit. Yohan can’t bring himself to care less, leaving him to be fully ignoring his opponent.

“Hello?”

‘Come to the address sent to you by the e-mail this afternoon. We’ll be waiting.’

“PAY ATTENTION TO—“

“OH—!”

“I need to leave. Anyway, thanks for the quick spar!”

Throwing a wink after launched a punch right to the gut, causing his opponent to simply laid on the ground as he dashed out of the place. He needs to get prepare to fulfill the said duty.

December 2023.

151 Main Street, Buliding 10. New York, USA.

Wrapped by his semi-formal suit, he confidently walked into the area even though he’s not quite sure about how things will go on after this. Once again checking his appearance before entering the building. Mesmerized by the place, he brings his gaze around until someone asked him for the security check.

“What brings you here?”

“I was asked to be here.” Brings his phone come to the display, showing the message he just received. “Look.”

The security quickly checked the message—some lines can be seen in the process as they really try to figure out the authenticity of it. Yohan, in other hand, is no longer able to contain his boredom. Crossed arms and closed eyes, heavy sigh left his lips on repeat yet he acknowledges he can do nothing instead of waiting or wishing for a miracle to be happened to help him out from this situation.

“Mr. Song.”

The familiar voice calling his name caused him to fix his position, eyes blinking for a moment and he bows down out of habit, followed by the security checking on the previously talking person.

“We’ve been waiting for your arrival. Thankfully you came here right on time—or else we have no choice but abduct you from your place.”

Yohan raised his brow, clearly not amused since he knows that it might not just be a joke remembering the power they have.

“I appreciate your kindness to not make it true.”

Crisp laughter aired and after giving some talks to the security, Yohan can get his possessions back. Shoving those back to its place as they walked further, he simply listened to the explanation given by the male all along their way to the said office.

“Your things will be given after we’re there.”

“I hope those will help me on getting through the lobby, I feel like intruding someone’s place,” responded the male with gaze latched down. “Even being intruder feels better compared to that.”

“It’s for your own sake.” The sliding door caused their conversation to be halted for a moment. “What if you decided to use those for no goods?”

Eyes rolled in disagreement and he lets another sigh heard, clearly not interested to engage further conversation with the man. Turning his head a bit, letting himself being carried by his own imagination.

“What is this? Were you involved in a fight?”

“Not particularly. I just sparred.”

Soundless ‘oh’ came to the display and they finally arrived at the place. “There it is. The Desolated Hollow’s office, some people might be inside already.”

“Mhm, thank you.”

“Almost forgot—these are yours. ID that you can use as access card, phone with card installed, some cards, well, you can check everything by yourself later. There’s a recording in it too, hope it helps.”

A box placed on his hand even before he’s capable to get a grasp of his surrounding. However, he said nothing regarding it and just thanking the man while bowing his body a bit.

“I’ll leave you here.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Inhaling deep and reach for the handle, slowly opening the door only to get inside the room. Tables and chairs, boards and racks, he can’t help but being curious with everything in there. Eyes are quick to scan the area, trying to identify things around.

‘They all look so cool, eh?’

Before he’s able to control his mind, the thought flashed inside already. Trying to be polite by slightly bowing his head even though his fingers aren’t stopping being rubbed against the box’s surface while trying to give a quick check on everyone.

‘Well, most of us are guys, no, everyone’s practically guys but one and wait, is that guy the team leader? He kinda radiates different aura compared to others. Good thing I decided to wear something prop—‘

A sudden interruption caused by the swung door leads his curiosity on forcing himself to turn. Once his gaze fixated on the just arrived figure, he can’t help but giving a quick scan from the bottom to the top, until their gaze met somewhere in the middle of scan. His corner of lips now being tugged, a small smile formed on his lips despite the fact of his pounding heart since he can recognize the figure quite immediately, thanks to the small researches he conducted days earlier.

“So, this is The Gabriel Black.”

The mentioned guy pulled a smug smile on his lips once he heard the low mumbling coming from the black haired male. Their gaze met and Yohan just set his expression as flat as before, leaving his gaze the way it does despite knowing the person is more likely will be able to read him in just a quick glance.

‘Well, it is what it is,’ he thinks.

“And you must be the agent assigned to me,” responded Black without letting his smile falters just yet. Making a way for himself to sit on the prepared seat, narrowing the gap between him and Yohan as he walked pass the younger. “I hope we can co-operate well in the future, even though I don’t enjoy being stalked.”

Black’s sentence kind of tickled his ego—yet he’s still trying his best to keep himself being truly unfazed on the surface while counting in head—there’s no way he’d want to lose from this said sociopath. Not at his first day, at least. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the reminder.”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?” Raising his left eyebrow in curiosity, waiting for the said man to continue rolling words out of his lips while keeping his gaze being fully latched on the talking guy, showering him full attention.

“I hope my presence won’t tire you out soon, Mr. Song.”

Yohan, finally letting his first full smile bloomed since he entered this building, all done with his body being slightly bowed toward the guy,

“It’s indeed a honor to work with you, Mr. Black. I’m really looking forward while hoping the same.”

—xxx—

[astaroth1357]

The MC is a Valkyrie

Demigod MC Series: Intro

Greek: Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Norse: Valkyrie

A bit of a change of pace this time! No worries, I'm not done with the Greeks or anything. I just had this idea and wanted to get it out. 

Valkyries aren't really demigods, but are a part of Norse myth as the minor divinities that help choose and deliver fallen warriors to Valhalla to join the ranks of the einherjar (the souls who will fight when Ragnarok comes). Valkyries are depicted as women who are fierce warriors in their own right. Despite their place as the gatekeepers of the Chosen, they've been said to sometimes take heroes and mortals as lovers or take residence in Midgard posing as daughters of royals/nobility. 

Lucifer 

At first, they thought they grabbed an heiress - which would have been bad enough - but then the MC grew wings, drew a spear, and asked who among them wanted a glorious death...

How hard is it to find ONE damn human on Earth? Isn't that realm supposed to be full of them??

Diavolo was thankfully able to talk their winged friend down from skewering Asmo and accepting the exchange on behalf of the human wo-… Midgard. 

Living with a Valkyrie is different for sure. The MC is a proud woman who takes her role very seriously and she's seemingly deemed him and his brothers as candidates for einherjar (despite being demons).

He's tried many, many times to explain to her that they're not interested, but she's unconvinced. Now the MC watches his brothers like a hawk waiting to cart one of them off to Valhalla! Any mortal wound could be an excuse...

He's had to save Beel and Satan twice from getting dragged to that infernal palace… For whatever reason, she seems to have taken to them the most. Is it old Norse culture to favor the brash and strong? He has no idea...

At the very least, she knows better than to try to drag him into her little plans. Though he's sure he could qualify for the einherjar (obviously, why wouldn't he?) he has no interest in leaving his life here behind.

To think he'd actually have to put surveillance on his own brothers for their safety… But they're not going to get drafted into some ancient Norse war, not if he can help it.

Mammon 

She’s an heiress… An heiress!!

Well, her human world identity is an heiress to a well-respected (and rather magical) rich family but that still technically counts! She’s crazy loaded back there! He’s in love!!

The only problem is that in the Devildom she doesn’t have a cent.

… and the fact that she keeps trying to get him killed. That’s also a problem.

In a way, things are not as bad and exactly as bad as that sounds. The MC apparently wants him to go to Valhalla (dope) but she can’t just take him there… He technically has to die in some kind of “vallent battle” first.

Her solution? Pick fights with nearly anything that moves and drag him into it!

Honestly, it’s pretty annoying… Sometimes he just wants to have a fun night out without getting into a barfight, you know??

At least the MC can handle herself… Hell, he was her "babysitter" but she barely even needed him. A lesser demon once made the bad idea of trying to cup her ass and lost a hand for his trouble…

Though, what this amounts to is the MC starting something then fighting alongside him like back-to-back badasses while looking for any excuse to scoop him up and fly him to Asgard!

Why does he put up with this? Well for starters human world rich is still rich, all he has to do is get himself a portal then he's living the high life! And secondly, well… what's the harm?

Sure, she technically wants him dead but he's the secondborn! The list of people who can take him down is so slim that it's not like he's in any danger. She even fights with him so things are a piece of cake!

Is this a case where he's 100% more forgiving because she's rich? Yes. Absolutely. But a golddigger's gotta eat somehow, right?

Leviathan 

Is it weird to be jealous over someone not wanting you to die...?

Okay, that's an oversimplification but Levi can’t help but feel snubbed that the MC doesn’t have any interest in taking him to Asgard. Like, none! And why not??

He’s strong! He’s tough! He’s part snake too! Don’t the Nords have a thing about that? Like, there’s a giant snake they’re all worried about?? Maybe he could communicate with it!

Logically, Levi knows that he really shouldn’t press her on this… MC is pretty much a Grim Reaper with a Norse coat of paint and Asgard doesn’t really sound like his speed. No anime, no video games, not even cable! It’s just eat, train, and drink all day… Ew.

But still… What makes him an odd one out? 

At best, she just knows he wouldn't be happy there. At worst, she's underestimating his skill… or maybe she's gauged him just right? He's always known he was weak!! 😫

Oh well... at least she's not a bore to be around. Far from it. She treats EVERYTHING like a life or death trial - he's pretty sure that if he challenged her to rock, paper, scissors she'd commend him for his bravery and swear on her sisters that she won't lose.

He once made the mistake of inviting her and Simeon for a game of Devil Party and they both got so into it that they nearly had a duel to the death as a tiebreaker… 

Thank Devil that the game had a pre-programmed minigame for that kind of thing… It would have gotten messy otherwise.

Well, even if his other brothers go to Asgard, he can just chill out here with Lucifer and Asmo… right…? Actually, no, that sounds horrible! MC, he changes his mind!! Take him too!!! 😭

Satan 

How many times does he have to say that he doesn’t want to go to Asgard?!?

Well, okay that’s not entirely true. Out of scientific curiosity, seeing the godly realm of the old Nords would be fascinating but he doesn’t want to stay, which the MC seems to have trouble understanding…

He’s not even sure why she's singled him out for einherjar status… Any one of his brothers are powerful beings in their own right and he’s not particularly, uh, “even-tempered” himself...

His best guess is she saw him wipe out a handful of lesser demons at some point and declared him Ragnarok material. He always ends up throwing around at least three of those idiots a week so checks out… 

If he's being honest, her very existence raises so many questions… Does this mean that Ragnarok is real? Will the human world be swallowed up by the sea? Will the gods of Asgard fight and die as a new world is established? When??

Unfortunately, the MC won't tell him when it all will come to pass (he suspects even she doesn't know) just that Loki will trigger it… Someone keep tabs on that guy.

Until then, he just has to put up with her attempts to convince him but his patience is wearing thin… He's pretty sure he threw a bookshelf at her once but she caught it anyway so yeah...

He did challenge her to a proper duel too but… well let's say she's a Valkyrie for a reason and leave it at that. (Being saved by Lucifer was so humiliating… He's done here, move on already!!)

Asmodeus

First things first, she's gorgeous. Beautiful! Divine! (Literally 🤭)

Now that that's out of the way… She may also have a screw or two loose.

Like, he gets it. She's a Valkyrie and snapping up strong souls is her thing but come on… Mammon? Really? Why would he get into Valhalla instead of him, huh??

Why can't he get to go to the beautiful afterlife of the old Norse with all their strapping warriors, lovely maidens, and endless partying?? It's not fair!!

Ugh… and now she's got him sounding like LEVI! How frustrating…

Well, it may not be that bad. According to MC, he'd have to do battle training in Valhalla and that wouldn't really agree with his beauty routine. Like dirt, sweat, blood, and muscles? No thanks! Not for him.

He asked MC if he could get some kind of pass, but no dice… Maybe he could still convince her to let him vacation there… Or go for a visit? Just one? Surely that couldn't be so bad right?? He's heard that Thor looks NOTHING like people think he does and he's so curious!!

The closest he's ever gotten was challenging the MC to a fashion contest for a visit, but he dropped that idea quick when she proposed that they somehow include a wrestling match in the dressing room (and he knows she didn't mean the fun kind...)

As much as he'd love to get skin-to-skin with MC, the idea of getting locked in a chokehold was less appealing for some reason. 🤔

Ah well, he'll just have to make due admiring her wonderful body clothed for the time being… There's something to be said about muscular ladies, no?

Beelzebub 

So she’s almost convinced him to join the einherjar like twice now…

He’s not the best at making decisions when he’s hungry and the MC keeps hyping up the food… Apparently it’s really good up there and MC says that she’s never seen an empty platter... Just thinking about it makes his stomach do backflips.

Thankfully for him, Lucifer usually steps in before Beel can sign his soul away and reminds him that he can’t just abandon the family for a meal, even if it is a feast.

You'd think he'd be annoyed but Beel isn't really bothered by her habit of trying to bring everyone to Asgard. At least not on a personal level.

Like Lucifer, he doesn't want to see his family broken up so he'd rather she wouldn't… But she's a Valkyrie right? It's what she does. It's not like she can help it.

In a weird way, he also thinks she means well. She just respects them and wants them to have a good afterlife. It would be kind of sweet if they didn't have to die for it first…

If he's being honest, he's not that worried about it anyway. His family is pretty tough, not a lot in the Devildom can take them down. As long as they're careful, everybody should be alright. 🙂

Maybe he could get MC to make some Valhallan food for them in the Devildom… Or he could get one of those immortality apples?? Though those would extend his life wouldn't they…? Oh well...

Belphegor 

Belphie's attempt to kill the MC went something like this:

Belphie: *switches to his demon form* "I can't believe you actually trusted me!"

MC: *blinks* "Oh. So you want to challenge me then?"

Belphie: "What?"

MC: "Ah, now I see! You want to fight to prove your valor then die by my hand??"

Belphie: "What are yo-??"

MC: *summons wings and golden spear* "I like your spunk, demon!! Fight me with all you have and perhaps I'll take you to Valhalla! May you join us in our fight as a brother!!"

Belphie: "What the hell are you talking about!?!"

To his credit, he put up a good fight and probably would have gotten into Asgard if Lucifer hadn't intervened to save his life.

It can be said that the MC's Valkyrie-hood took Belphie completely by surprise. Sure, he thought she was a little weird for a "human" but challenging him to a duel to the death? That came out of nowhere!

His uneasiness about her only grew after he found out that she's been literally trying to get Beel killed! How in the world were his brothers so relaxed about this?? She's insane!!

So say what you will about the MC, but she's managed to do the impossible. She got Lucifer and Belphie to make up and work together on something! (i.e. making sure she doesn't send them all to their deaths)

Between Lucifer monitoring his brothers and Belphie watching the MC, they'll keep everybody in the Devildom where they belong. That's a promise!

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[chyanxrene]

One More Drink

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Y/N and Draco have a one night stand, however things are not as straightforward as they seem (I’m not sure how to describe this one)

♡ Warnings: Pure smut, female receiving (anything else let me know)

Working as a healer was Y/N's dream ever since she studied at Hogwarts. The countless hours she put into her studying did not go unnoticed. So when she left Hogwarts two years ago she was immediately offered a high position in St. Mungo's.

Her efforts in the war were appreciated by many. She wasn't fully trained, nor did she know what she was doing when she was presented with injured wizards. But she tried, her ambition, the way she tried her hardest to not let a single soul die beneath her touch was admired by almost everyone.

So for the past two years, every Friday at 8PM. After she had finished her evening shift, she headed down to her local bar. Although she was a strong individual, her mind was haunted by the blood, the injuries, and it only followed her when she went to work.

So Friday was her day, her day to drown out the horrific images, her day to let loose, because she deserved it.

She liked being alone, she enjoyed her own company. The war changed everyone, she barely spoke with her friends from Hogwarts. They all lived their own lives, the thought of them only forced her to remember everything that had happened.

So here she was, alone in her local bar. It was her second drink of the night, the alcohol yet to mix into her blood. This week had been long, gruesome and tiring, she wanted something stronger. Something to provide her with temporary amnesia.

She flicked her hand up, signalling the bartender over. This bartender was new, he was young, slightly shaky. She was sure he was overwhelmed with the amount of people in the bar.

He sent her a weak smile, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. He rubbed it off with his forearm and immediately had apologetic eyes, Y/N couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"I'll have another Martini please" Y/N smiled, she bit the olive off the toothpick and shoved it back into her glass.

"Right away" the bartender rushed, he was sloppy with his work. Loud men, flirty women all called him in unison, wanting his attention. Craving their own taste of poison.

Y/N looked around from her bar stool, the place was rammed. There were no empty chairs, no spare tables, bodies were everywhere. This only heated up the small bar, Y/N pushed her jacket down, settling it on her lap as she waited for her drink.

She fiddled with her fingers, she would enjoy some company right now. Perhaps she should start bringing her friends, or find a lover.

She shook her head at the thoughts, men were too complicated. She didn't have time for them, besides, she was picky when it came to the opposite sex.

After a few moments her drink arrived in front of her, except there were no olives. She thought to complain, but the poor boy was already under pressure. She didn't want to add any more, she swung the drink back effortlessly.

This was the drink that done it, the gin burned her throat, she could feel the alcohol swim through her veins. Her stomach fluttered, even though her jacket had come off, she had heated up again.

Y/N went to request another drink, but something else had been placed in front of her.

Brown liquid gold in a shot glass— fire whiskey. She smirked to herself, every Friday an unknown admirer purchased her a single shot of fire whiskey.

Was she really hot, or did she just want to take off her jacket so her admirer could see her bare skin. Y/N didn't know, some parts of her wanted to find out who it was. Other parts of her wanted to keep on playing their little game.

It must've been someone from Hogwarts— in the Muggle world they done shots of Vodka, tequila even rum— never fire whiskey.

She held the drink to her lips, pressing them on the rim. Her nostrils burned, smelling the strong smell of the alcohol. She counted to three before swallowing the contents of the shot glass.

Her mind was full of memories in Hogwarts, the times that her and her friends would sneak fire whiskey into a party. Drinking after exams, before quidditch games and after, any excuse for a good time— fire whiskey was there.

Her heart warmed, that's it, she had to know who was sending her these drinks, every Friday for two years straight— she had to know.

Whoever it was, they were smart. Friday was always the busiest day, so no matter how hard Y/N tried to look for the unknown person, her mind was always cloudy by that time. So she would give up, plus the bartender would never tell her who it was.

A light bulb went off in her head, she then realised— this was a new bartender.

She called him over, he ran to her. His face was red, he looked like he was on the verge of passing out.

"Who sent this drink?" She asked, her voice was laced with excitement.

"I— I don't know."

"You must know— he obviously told you— what did he look like?"

"Oh— yes right— white hair— he's tall, wearing all black."

"Thank you" Y/N smiled, she rose from her chair. She was going to find him, whoever it was.

She checked, table after table, there was no sign of this white haired man. She almost gave up, wanting to return to her seat. She internally screamed seeing it was now occupied.

She spun around ready to head to the exit, her face then collided with a hard chest.

"Looking for me?" The male spoke.

Y/N frowned, she pushed back, raising her head. She had seen him before, she knew who he was but she couldn't pin point where she knew him from.

God he was beautiful, his face was carved sharply, his eyes a stormy grey colour. He was powerful, just by his stance, his skin was clean, like porcelain, there wasn't a scratch on it.

"I— uh-"

"Would you like to sit down? You're welcome to sit on my table" he spoke again, his voice was deep, it almost went straight to Y/N's core.

She couldn't speak, she was in awe at this beautiful man.

"If I'd had known that you were going to react like this then I would've made myself known sooner" he chuckled.

His hand wrapped around her wrist, his cold fingertips snapped her out of the trance. Before she knew what he was doing, he dragged her back to his table. It was in the corner, dim lit, her eyes went to where the bar was, she realised he had a clear view of her.

He was watching her all this time.

"I— do I know you?" She asked, her eyes met his, she was intimidated by his strong gaze.

"I don't know, do you?" He responded, picking up his drink and raising it to his lips.

"You look familiar" Y/N mumbled, watching him, his pink tongue fell out and licked the rim of his glass before he sipped on the contents.

Her breath hitched in her throat, he knew that, he had been watching her for so long.

He set his glass down and turned his body so that their knees were touching, "we went to school together."

"Hogwarts?" Y/N frowned.

He hummed, conjuring more fire whiskey from the tip of his wand. Y/N looked around to see if anyone had watched but luckily no one did.

Then she realised who he was, the annoying, pompous asshole that got underneath everyone's skin.

"Malfoy" she grimaced.

"Huh, you were eye fucking me less than two minutes ago— now you're saying my name like you hate me Y/L/N."

"Piss off— I was not— you've just changed— that's all."

"In a good way I'm guessing" he smirked, his fingers tapped the table below him. She couldn't help but stare at his long fingers, decorated with silver expensive rings.

She let out a breath, the fire whiskey had clearly taken over her body and her mind, "very good."

Draco was taken aback by her response, she had always been bold. But after the war, everyone had lost their spark, it seemed she hadn't which only enticed him more.

"So, Malfoy, you've been watching me all this time, buying me drinks— what's the catch?" She laughed, she picked up his drink and sipped a little of it. Some escaped from the corner of her mouth, due to her rushing to swallow the drink.

His finger reached out, collecting the fallen liquid. He brushed it against her bottom lip, letting it sit there before he pushed his wet finger into his own mouth.

Y/N sat there with her mouth open, her thoughts ran wild. Imagining what Malfoy would be like in bed, he was an arrogant bastard, so he must have something to show for it.

She could faintly remember him in school, however all her memories of him were negative. Him bullying the golden Trio, treating girls like toys. She had despised him, she couldn't remember him in the war— or if he was even there.

"There's no catch" he said, bringing her back to reality.

"I find that hard to believe, there's always a catch with you Malfoy."

"Call me Draco— darling."

Y/N hadn't noticed that her thong had became wet, only when she shifted from leg to leg. She felt the cool breeze travel up her skirt and right onto her underwear. She unknowingly had a blush painted across her face, which Draco had noticed.

"Everything alright?" He whispered, he leaned closer to her, his strong scent overpowering her nostrils. His hand found her knee and rested it there, Y/N secretly hoped he would move his hand further.

"I— I'm fine, it's just hot in here" Y/N nervously laughed.

"You seem flustered Y/N" Draco said in a hushed tone, he leaned even closer to her, his breath now hot against her ear.

"I'm— I'm just hot Draco" she lifted his glass to her mouth, drinking slowly, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Mmm, are you wet too?"

Y/N choked on the drink, liquid flew out of her mouth landing on the table. She didn't expect him to come out with that, how did he know, was it that obvious?

Draco picked up a piece of tissue and dried the table, "I'll take that as a yes."

She was embarrassed, more than embarrassed. She wanted to run out of the bar and never return, but she couldn't. His pull was strong, that's what kept her there.

"No— I'm not."

"I think you're lying darling."

His hand had moved to her thigh, massaging it with his hand. Her skin quickly covered in goosebumps, he left a light kiss on her cheek and pried her thighs open as they were firmly shut from her crossing them.

Draco looked in her eyes to see if there was any sign of protest, but there wasn't, her eyes were full of lust and want.

"I think," Draco paused, his index finger drew circles up her inner thigh, edging closer and closer to her wet thong.

His mouth was brushing her ear, "you should let me, clean this little mess you made."

His finger dragged along the centre of her thong, an almost inaudible groan escaped past his pink lips. Y/N's hand grabbed onto his forearm, holding it in place.

She whimpered feeling his finger slip underneath her thong, he ran his finger up and down, collecting her arousal on his finger.

He stilled and looked at her, Draco had never seen a prettier sight. He was going to enjoy this thoroughly, "would you let me do that?"

Y/N had forgotten that he had asked a question, all she could focus on was his slender finger touching her ever so carefully.

"Hmm? Answer me love, would you like that— would you like me to clean this up?" He whispered, circling her clit slowly, his eyes stared into the side of her face. Waiting for an answer, he knew she was in a trance.

He removed his finger, hoping that would force her to answer his question.

Y/N's mouth ran dry, she couldn't remember the last time she had been touched like this. She wanted to say in Hogwarts but everything before the war was fuzzy to her.

"Yes" she managed to whisper.

He nodded, he downed his drink and leaned back into the chair. Y/N frowned, looking at him, she thought he was going to move out of the way so she could exit the booth.

But he just sat there, he ran his tongue over his teeth, smirking slightly whilst he watched her.

"Ladies first."

"But you're in the way."

"I'm a gentleman, ladies first Y/N" he said, his bottom lip was caught in between his teeth as he watched her scramble and collect her belongings.

She stood up, praying silently to herself, do not fall over him. He widened his legs and allowed her to step over one of them until she was standing in between his legs.

She almost fell but he caught her by her waist, she looked down at him. His eyes were already on hers, they are dark, he looked at her like she was his prey.

"Careful love," his eyes wandered down her body until they reached her ass. His tongue ran across his lips, moistening them before he moved his hand off her waist.

Y/N managed to climb out of the booth safely, without falling on him again. She threw her coat on and waited for him to stand up, he immediately towered over her.

His hand fell to the small of her back and guided her through the sweaty bodies. He didn't need to push anyone out of the way, his presence alone made people stand to the side.

Once they had reached the empty street he held out his hand for her to take. She knew where this was going, she always hated apparating but it was the fastest way to transport to places.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the wave of nausea run through her system. Apparating and alcohol were not a good pairing, she knew not to make this mistake again.

Finally back on two feet she waited for her body to regain its normal composure. She looked at her surroundings, a simple flat. It was modern but with dark accents to it, typical for a Slytherin she thought to herself.

The kitchen was attached to the lounge, a nice open space. Y/N wondered if he lived by himself. It was a large flat, the floor to floor windows overlooked the streets of central London. I guess he still had money even after the war.

Y/N placed her bag on the floor and stood by the window, watching the river Thames in the background, then glancing to the busy streets, full of life.

Draco stood next to her, watching everywhere she was watching.

"It's nice isn't it?" Draco said, Y/N hummed and leaned against the window. She was no longer watching the view, she was watching him. The way his eyes glowed against the moons natural light.

She couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach, his hand cupped the side of her face. His thumb brushed up and down her cheek before he leaned in and kissed her.

She welcomed his mouth with hers, instantly deepening the kiss with her tongue. Draco let out a groan, he waited two years to get her like this. He didn't know how much longer he could wait.

Y/N's arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her. He bent down picking her up by the back of her thighs, their mouths never disconnected.

Each second the kiss became more desperate, full of hunger and need. Both of them needed this, for two complete different reasons, but neither of them knew what the others were.

Draco managed to set Y/N on top of the island in his kitchen. His hands ran up her sides, brushing past her breasts and then back down to her thighs.

Y/N tried to get his shirt off, only managing to tear the top three buttons before giving up. She instead put her fingers through his hair, tugging on his neatly gelled hair, making it a now disheveled.

She swallowed his groans in her mouth, allowing him to push her legs open, which he settled between. He removed his mouth, Y/N was catching her breath, gasping heavily.

Draco made his way down her collar bone, sucking and biting at the spot which he knew would drive her crazy.

She whimpered, feeling him lick her pulse and then bite on it gently.

"God, Draco."

He let out a laugh and pulled her legs to the edge of the table so she was sitting half on it. She fell backwards waiting for him to touch her.

Her skirt had been bunched up around her waist, Draco pushed her thighs apart, he could see everything now. Her wet underwear, so flimsy, he was almost angered seeing her wear something so skimpy to a bar full of perverted men.

But he pushed his thoughts aside and kissed along her inner thighs. Wet kisses scorched her sensitive skin, she could still feel each kiss even when his mouth had left the area.

She was in a state of bliss, her thoughts and senses were overpowered by pleasure.

"Draco" she moaned, feeling him lick a long stripe up her pussy. The friction between his wet tongue and lace underwear caused her to jolt forward.

His finger curled underneath her underwear, he pulled it down her legs, throwing it on the ground carelessly.

His face was now centimetres away from her aching pussy. If she moved closer his mouth would be touching it, but she waited for him.

He sucked in a breath, the heat from his mouth fanned against her bare pussy. Sending chills down her spine which was already cold against the marble slab beneath her.

Draco could've said a thousand words, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to make her feel weird or uncomfortable, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

His middle finger entered her without warning, Draco shut his eyes feeling her pussy clench the single finger. He let out a breath, eyes peering up at the beautiful witch in front of him.

She was still, frozen, only her chest heaving up and down. Draco was unsure if she was okay, but the way her pussy tightened around his finger showed that she was still with him.

He pushed it in and out a few times, testing her tightness, he wanted nothing more than to replace his finger with his cock, but he would wait.

"More" Y/N managed to squeak out.

He abided with her command and added a second finger. He would do anything she asked him to do at this moment.

He used a scissoring motion, stretching her, preparing her for his cock, which he knew he had to do. After watching her countless nights, he was fully aware that she hadn't had anyone since Hogwarts.

He wanted her to be ready for when she took his cock, he didn't want her to feel an ounce of pain. Only pleasure, and he wanted to be the one that gave it to her. The only one, to give it to her.

Y/N couldn't breathe, she hadn't felt like this in a long time. She couldn't even make herself cum, she was close, the teasing from the bar and now this.

"You look so beautiful Y/N— do you like that? Do you like feeling my fingers stretch your— tight little pussy?" Draco groaned, she didn't respond, only clenching her pussy again as a somewhat answer.

"God— I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Draco latched his mouth onto her clit, sucking on it gently. His fingers were fucking her quickly, never losing there pace even when she gripped his hair tightly.

The wet noises made Draco hard. It was painful, he didn't know how to contain himself anymore. He wanted to be inside her now, he needed it— more than anything.

But her pleasure came first, always.

She was close, her low screams partnered with her squirming beneath his touch made Draco fully aware. He moved his fingers and replaced it with his tongue— finally tasting her.

He lapped up her arousal, savouring the taste. His fingers rubbed harshly on her clit as he prodded his tongue in and out of her.

She suddenly stilled and screamed his name, followed by multiple curse words. The orgasm washed over her, but Draco never stopped. He continued licking her until she was clean before he raised his head again.

His mouth shiny, covered in her cum. He licked his lips, humming at her taste.

Y/N's head fell back onto the table, she let out a shaky breath and sat up. She watched as he palmed his cock through his neatly ironed trousers.

His movements were slow, Y/N couldn't help but become aroused again. He was teasing her, he undone his belt slowly and unzipped his trousers. All while maintaining eye contact with her.

The room was filled with heavy breaths, Y/N couldn't wait to see what he had to offer. Never in a million years did she think she would fuck Draco Malfoy. But here she was, silently begging for him to do so.

His trousers were pushed down first, leaving him in his black boxers. They hardly disguised his erection, the tip was peaking out of the top, a wet patch surrounded it.

"You want this?" He smirked, rubbing his cock through his boxers. He squeezed the base and ran his hand up to the tip, groaning at his own pleasure. Y/N felt jealous, utterly jealous.

Y/N nodded quickly, licking her lips. He laughed, pushing his boxers down to his ankles.

A gasp tumbled out of her mouth, his cock stood up, reaching his belly button. It was hard, it looked like it was causing him pain.

How was she going to take that when she hadn't had sex in so long. Thank God she was a healer, she laughed to herself.

He pulled her to the edge again, "I'll stop if it hurts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "just fuck me Draco."

He shook his head, lining his tip up with her entrance. He didn't enter just yet, he ran the tip up and down her pussy, nudging her clit with it a few times.

She chewed on her bottom lip, watching him closely. He just stared between them, sweat was trickling down his temple. He gulped heavily and closed his eyes.

"Draco?"

"Wait" he mumbled, he pushed inside of her, a strained groan coming from his throat.

Her pussy hugged him so tightly. He didn't know if he could ever pull out, or if he even wanted to.

Draco's hand went to her throat and held onto it tightly. He composed himself before pulling out and thrusting into her again, he tested a few different paces before deciding which one to go with.

He knew he wouldn't last long, so he went with short deep thrusts. That's what Y/N received, short, deep, delicious thrusts.

His hand was tight around her throat, making it hard for her to even breath— let alone moan. Draco's eyes were fixated on where the two were connecting.

"Fuck— your cunt is so— fucking tight" he grunted. His hips moved faster, and his hand only clasped tighter.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. The coil in Y/N's stomach was about to snap again. When she closed her eyes she saw stars, her head was fuzzy, she felt disoriented.

"You're taking me so well— just like you us-"

He was cut off by a loud moan, Draco moved his hand from her neck, his thumb circled her clit leisurely. He watched her come undone for him, and that's all he ever wanted.

Y/N choked as her second orgasm bulldozed through her body. The way her pussy clenched around Draco forced him to come to an early orgasm.

It hit him unexpectedly, that had never happened before.

The two tried to regain their breaths. Draco was still inside her, currently too unstable to pull out. Y/N was desperately trying to get her normal vision back.

After a few minutes they were able to find a sense of normality. Draco raised his head, watching as Y/N gave him a lazy smile— no— a freshly fucked smile.

He pulled out of her, resulting in a wince escaping from her mouth. She sat up slowly, waiting for him to help her down from the island.

Y/N asked where the bathroom was, which Draco directed her to. She was weak, unstable, she needed help from him to find her way there. She felt uncomfortable, usually she would leave, but something about Draco made her want to stay.

But she couldn't, she didn't have time for men. After she cleaned herself up there was an awkward silence. Neither of the pair knew what to do.

Draco offered her to stay over but she refused. He put on a light smile, brushing off her rejection. But deep down the pang in his heart made him want to disappear.

"Goodnight Draco" Y/N whispered, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight darling" he smiled.

He watched as she disappeared into the night. Hoping she would turn around and say she wanted to stay but she never.

Draco shut his flat door, he sighed in content, knowing he was one step closer to being reunited with his lost love. One day he would tell her everything that had happened, why he had to obliviate her.

But for now, he would just buy her one more drink.

[hyunjilicious]

what is and what should never be [bucky barnes]

A/n: ok, so. Im really fucking insecure about this. I literally poured my heart into this fic. I'm genuinely unhappy with the beginning, but I promise you, it gets better!! I don't have it in me to rewrite it for the 4th time. I really hope you'll still like it though. If you ask me, this is the best fic idea I even had. Please, please, if you enjoyed it, let me know!!!

Summary: It was you and Bucky. An unlikely couple that shared equally disturbed pasts. When you get a day off, your paradise turns into hell as Bucky's nightmares return, leaving you alone to deal with The Winter Soldier. (FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST) 12k

Warnings: 2 smut scenes - they're graphic but not extreme, fluff, angst, violence, mentions of death and suicide, blood, a fight scene - also quite graphic but it was written to serve the angst. I don't want to spoil the ending, but if you really connect with the characters, you will not hate me!!

This day had been long awaited. After months of back to back missions and endless efforts to climb up the greasy pole of US social standards, words failed to describe how ecstatic you were to know, that for the next 24 hours, your whole schedule would fully be in your hands.

You had the freedom to do just about anything you wanted, and the simple fact that the rest of the avengers left to deal with some paperwork excited you to no end. You woke up when it was time for them to take off, and made a snarky remark about heading to the gym - something along the lines of having a productive day centered on self development.

Just about 20 minutes later, you and Bucky, now also alone in the Stark Tower, decided to start off your day on the right foot. He offered to make protein smoothies as you changed into something comfortable and fitting for a workout, but neither of you got their job done.

You had no idea how that happened, but before you knew it you were wearing your sports bra and still had your pajama pants on, moaning on the counter of Tony's kitchen as Bucky had lodged himself between your legs, hungrily exploring the heated skin of your neck, peppering you with bruise marks that represented his adoration for you. "You heal fast anyway" he shrugged, pulling you closer and digging his teeth into your flesh, sucking profusely and eliciting an erotic moan from your lips. 

With every new hickey he left, another one would disappear, which in turn would make him even more frustrated, “The hell should I do? Tattoo hickeys on you!?” he groaned, moving up your neck. You caught his cheeks into your palms and kissed him back, smiling as he kept getting more and more aggravated. 

It didn't come as a surprise when the blender went berserk, splattering fruit pulp, almond milk and protein powder all over the pristine walls of the room - both of you have long forgotten about it. 

The way Bucky cleaned the mess was the epitome of not giving a shit, and you couldn't find it more endearing. He bitched and whined his way through the whole process, and tears formed at the corners of your eyes at the ridiculousness of the half assed job he just did. 

You eventually reached the gym - of course, against all your pouting and begging to put off this session. "Doll, you're the only avenger who can't fight. A punk on the street could snap your purse and there would be nothing you can do"

Wrong, he was not. You couldn't fight - but at the same time that didn't mean you were defenceless. It was your immense power that for months on end made your teammates consider you a liability. The energy that surged through your veins had been too great for you to handle, and in fact, it still was, but now, thanks to the joined efforts of Tony and Bruce, there was a way for that power to be contained. Their solution came in the form of two massive shackles wrapped around the length of your forearms. They were made of dimeritium and kept all kinds of energy from leaving your body. But, even so, that energy was in full form, buzzing inside every fiber of your being. And so, while wearing them you couldn't attack anyone, but there wasn't a way for them to harm you either. That field of energy protected you from every kind of damage and wounds you had ever encountered, ranging from fist fights to automatic rifles to guided grenades.

"I'm the only one that doesn't need to know" you huffed and puffed, annoyed but still determined to get this first training session done with.

But that never happened. Halfway through your warm up rounds, your teasing side awoke and it took you about ten minutes to go from batting your eyelashes and flaunting your ass, to nonchalantly cupping his cock into your hand.

No one could blame Bucky for not even trying to stop you. Bless him, he did everything he could, but he was never able to resist you. And probably never will be.

By the time you were done at the gym, both your bodies were coated in lecherous layers of sweat, no of them being from actually working out. It was only a matter of time until you managed to break his self control and he had you sprawled on all fours in the middle of the boxing ring, moaning your soul out as he pounded your pussy. 

The momentum made your whole frame rock back and forth, your hair falling around your face, "Holy fuck-" 

The room vibrated with the vulgar slaps he afflicted on your bare ass. You arched your back and cried his name out loud, "Come on, Bucky- I- harder please-"

"How are you already so needy?" he chuckled, caging your waist between his strong arms and pulling you up until your back reached his chest. "I ate this pussy this morning before we got out of bed"

"You know I love your tongue-" you giggled out of breath as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "But it doesn't compare to your cock"

"What does?" Bucky rhetorically questioned before picking up his pace. He kept slamming his hips into yours, fucking you at full force as with each thrust, his cock rammed against your walls hard enough to make you see stars.

"I'm really fucking close, Buck" you whined, feeling your knees start to refuse to maintain your weight any longer. 

"Don't cum yet" he panted, "Wait for me"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you cried out loud, liquid pleasure seeping out of you in the form of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please-" you whined, "I can't hold it anymore, I'm-"

"Not yet, baby" Bucky groaned, easily stopping you from wiggling around in his hold. His thrusts became sloppy and the orgasm got the best of him. He buried his face deep in your shoulder as his high forced guttural moans to rip from his throat. 

As he filled you up with his cum, as much as you wanted to comment about him making you wait and then not even bothering to tell you you could cum, you couldn't. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your chest heaved as the spiral of bliss seemed to go on and on, tons of ecstasy propagating in long painful waves across your body.

"Fuck-" Bucky panted as helped you up, "I could get used to days like this. We should retire"

"I'm not retiring-" you teasingly shook your head, "not until you find a way to give me a baby"

"I'd give you all the babies" he retorted, tugging your hand.

It caused you to lose your balance and stumble into his chest, "I love you"

"Love you" Bucky kissed the top of your head and spun you around. With his palms on your hips, he started guiding you towards the door, "Let's get you cleaned up"

And then, another wave of unproductivity followed. You showered, ordered pizza, whined about how there was still some smoothie left on the floor, and after you warned him about it, your face fell as Bucky stepped directly in the middle of the puddle of almond milk. He was fuming, the incident wiped any traces of happiness off his face. He mumbled something about that being the last pair of comfy socks he had left and something about Tony's devices being a constant pain in the ass. 

He went on and on until you ambushed him with kisses up his neck and shoved your hands under his shirt. In an instant his bickering turned into soft giggles as he innocently relaxed under your touch. You eventually cleaned up the mess and tried to make yourself busy. Nothing worked, you weren't in the mood for anything and at the same time, even though you did absolutely nothing all day, you felt a wave of tiredness envelop you.

At about 4pm, and you Bucky had already been lazily laying in bed, a mess of tangled limbs under the fluffy duvet. Your conversation started from the tactical gear he swore would look better on you than on him and then wondered how you didn't know how to sow.

"I'll hit you" you threatened.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, holding onto your forearm as it was resting on his chest, "But you know how much I love it when you get angry at my misogynistic jokes"

"It's rude" you scoffed - you didn't mean his jokes, but the fact that when he grew up, women were not anywhere near where they are today. 

"You know I don't mean it"

"I know you don't" you laughed, "Otherwise I'd have actually hit you"

"Don’t worry" Bucky said, "I'd hit myself if I was that stupid"

"Cute" you smiled, kissing his shoulder. Looking up at him, you promoted your chin against his chest, "Do you miss it? The 40s i mean"

He thought about it for a second. "Nah" there was a bit of nostalgia in his tone, but you believed him. "I've kinda made my peace with the fact that everyone from my old life is gone. I wouldn't want to go back now. I got you. I got all of you guys. I'm good now, really good"

"I'm glad" you beamed, feeling yourself warm up from the inside just thinking of the progress he made. After a few seconds, you spoke up again, "But what about the society? Like the day to day life? How do you like the 2010s?"

"I can't lie" Bucky laughed, "I liked Romania better. Much simpler."

"You lived in a dead beat apartment, hiding everyday" you scoffed, "How was that better?"

"I don't know… maybe it was the simple life. Apparently I'm all about that"

"You'd move back there?"

"If you came with me?" he questioned, looking down at you. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes and a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn’t even think twice"

"Maybe one day" you sighed with content. You snuggled back against his side, and closed your eyes. "We're not done avenging yet" you mumbled.

He didn't say anything to that. You didn't know whether he was getting lost in thoughts or if he was starting to drift off, but you would have been fine with either. When he spoke up again, you didn't expect the conversation to take this route.

"About Romania…" he sighed, "What made you come with Steve back in 2016?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he muttered, rubbing his light stubble, "I know why Steve came-" Bucky chuckled, "And Sam's all up his ass, so there's that. But what about you?"

"I-"

"I'm aware of the rift I caused between you guys back then. So that's why I'm asking. What made you stand by Steve from the beginning?"

"I knew how much you meant to him. And I know how this is going to sound, but I felt sorry for you, Buck. I know what it's like to be alone, to have everyone turn against you. You deserved better"

"Love-?" he called softly, his voice nearly breaking. "What do you mean you know what it's like to have everyone turn against you?"

As you maintained the eye contact, you felt tears prickle, "I know it wasn't fair of me to keep my past a secret, but-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he said softly, his eyes warm. The pain was readable on his features, he hated how your whole demeanour changed.

"It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just that I hate talking about it. Gives me nightmares."

"Then we can just drop it" Bucky murmured, gathering you closer.

"I wish you could know without me telling you" you laughed, "You make everything better and easier. I should've told you, I know. It isn't fair to you. We've been together for almost two years but as far as you're concerned I didn't exist until I joined the avengers. I don't even know how much they know. We never talked about it"

"Love, listen to me. I'm here whenever you want to talk about it. You didn't do anything wrong. There are a lot of things about me that you don't know either. We're not those people anymore. No one can blame us for trying to escape out past"

"Yeah, you're right" you sighed.

Gathering your power, you pushed yourself up and settled beside him, with your legs crossed. You grabbed his hand pulling it into your lap, and intertwined your fingers with his as you spoke.

"Forget the official story, there's no truth to it anyway"

"I really didn't believe your mum was a criminal and that you were in a mental asylum" he joked.

"Good-" you smiled, his words lifting the atmosphere a bit. "Truth is, I don't know anything about my parents. But I have my assumptions. I grew up in that soviet facility so I never met them. I was told it was owned by a group of socialite scientists who wanted our help"

"Our? Who's we?"

"There were 7 of us"

"Did they have the same power as you?"

"Approximately. When we were younger, we used to comply and do everything we were told but as we grew up, things started to change. We weren't happy. Who could be? Considering we were being held in cells and studied like lab rats. We started to act differently and some might even say we tried to rebel, but that didn't work obviously, and that's when the restrictions began. For the last 3 years I spent there, there hadn't been a day where the temperature passed 0°C." 

Your skin crawled as you recaled the endless nights you spent shivering your way to sleep. Everything around you was ice cold. But it wasn't for the sole purpose of torturing you. It was your only weakness. As the temperature dropped, so did the movement of the atoms that made up your body - eliminating your powers to the point where you were barely alive. 

"One day, as spring came, we wanted to break out. We made a plan, and figured that as soon as we were out, we'd be fine. We were wrong. We were off about the weather and they got us before we even exited the perimeter. That's when the avengers heard about us."

By now, Bucky's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity, his mouth agape as he took in the information you provided. With every word you spoke his grip tightened around your fingers and his eyebrows gathered even further. There was discomfort and anger in his features, but he didn't interrupt you once.

"After that, the restrictions got tougher. We realised there was no way out. A lot of things came together in that small time frame. I realised what that place actually was days after we tried to escape. My friends - or that's what I thought they were, figured out another plan. Why fight when you can just eliminate the premise?"

Bucky moved his lips but no words came out. He cleaned his throat and sat up a bit, "What- what do you mean?"

"They tried to kill me" you said, plastering a sympathetic smile on your lips, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear.

"What the fuck. Why?"

"I think my dad used to be part of that team. And I think he made me the way I am. Now I don't know why he wasn't around anymore, but that team wasn't trying to get us to do anything. They were trying to make more of me. So if I was dead-"

"There would be no reason to keep the other kids…" Bucky finished the sentence for you.

You nodded.

"And what happened?"

You bowed your head trying to find a way to put your words together. Bucky didn't rush you, just reassuringly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, waiting. When a tear from your cheek slipped and landed on the back of his hand, you looked up and took a deep breath. "I killed them. All of them."

He didn't say anything. Didn’t move a muscle, as he waited for you to continue. 

"I didn't even want to do that, Buck" you sobbed, breaking down. "I killed over 20 people because I was afraid. I didn't even move. I was in the corner of my room the whole time, but everyone who approached me was fried to death. I don't even know how I did that. I was just scared"

"Oh, baby" Bucky cooed, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you. You fell against his chest, crumbling in his embrace. "I hope you know that was not your fault, ok?" he asked, rubbing your back. "You were just a kid, alone and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart, those bastards. Please don't feel sorry for them"

"I feel sorry for the other kids"

"They tried to kill you, Y/n" Bucky countered, "If you hadn't killed them, I would've gone after them. All of them"

"They were desperate..."

"So were you!"

"I can't help but feel like a monster sometimes, you know? Like I'm reckless and out of control. There are times when I'm all happy and excited about what tomorrow would bring, and then i remember what I did, and I have a hard time fighting away the thoughts that try to tell me I don't deserve that"

"What you deserve is the fucking world ok?" Bucky said, tilting your chin so you could see just how serious he was. "This past couple of years, you saved hundreds of lives and I know for a fact you did it out of the pure kindness of your heart, not because you wanted to make up for anything in the past. You're a fucking angel. You're the embodiment of good, you hear me? I know you. You'll never understand how much respect I have for you, and how in awe I am with the kind of person you are. Please, don't ever think less of yourself. Ever, ok?"

Tears rolled down your cheeks as his words proved to be much more than you were able to hear at that moment. "Thanks, Buck. That's sweet of you to say-"

"It's not sweet of me to say, it's the fucking truth" he scoffed, but he somehow managed to make it sound loving. "You didn't even fucking try, but just being around you made me feel like a person again. You're amazing, Y/n. We're all lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you."

"You're gonna make me cry" you sniffled, curling yourself into a ball against his chest, "I know you were in a dark place when we met. I'm glad I managed to help you through it"

"You pulled me through it" he sighed, tightening his hold around you. "I went from wanting to die, to thinking that I didn't even deserve the easy way out. Look at me now."

"Buck, stop"

"I love you so fucking much" Bucky laughed. 

His whole frame shook as he pulled you back down, safely holding you between his arms, "You're amazing" he added, kissing the top of your head, "Perfect"

"I said, stop" you chuckled, slapping his side, "I get it, you like me, can we-"

"I adore you" Bucky cut you off after grabbing the sides of your face between his palms. "And thanks for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about your past, so thank you. I'm always here for you. If there's anything ever, I got you, ok? Forever"

"I got you too" you added, kissing his cheek and then moving along his jawline, "No matter what happens, you'll always have me on your side. I'm all yours, Bucky"

"Yeah, you are, doll. All mine"

After that talk, how you managed to fall into a deep sleep will always remain a mystery. Nightmares didn't make their way into your mind, and you settled for a dreamless slumber, actually fully content for the first time in a long while.

But not everybody processed grief the same way. And if Bucky mentioned earlier that he was lucky to have you, as you were pulled out of your sleep, you realised that he wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to the mysteries that creep up on you when you least expect them.

-

"Wake up sunshine"

The sound reached your ears, but it wasn't Bucky's voice, so you just groaned in response and rolled over to the other side, completely pressing your face into the pillow.

"Buttercup, it's time to wake up"

The voice seemed uneasy, as if the person speaking was actually terrified. You opened your eyes wearily, and were met with the usual, complete darkness of your room. 

"Come on, Y/n" they spoke again. You turned to see one of Tony's maintenance robots hovering above your body, one small screen lit up on its front. Blinking a few times to rid yourself of the sleep still lingering in your eyes, you managed to make out the faces of Tony and Steve, both staring at you.

"What's going on?" you mumbled.

"You've got incoming," Tony announced, and then shook his head at whatever someone next to him had said. The microphone wasn't performant enough for you to hear what the other person said, but it was not like you cared.

"Incoming what?" you questioned, still confused out of your mind.

He turned his attention back to you, "The asshole"

You frowned and Steve scoffed, "Y/n, it's Bucky. He's not well"

"Wh-" you mumbled, your head snapping to the side, only then realising his side of the bed was empty. You shuffled your arm around the sheets, still warm. "What- what happened?"

"He's gone rogue, Y/n" Steve announced, genuine worry and guilt audible in his voice, "You need to make sure he doesn't leave. You need to stop him"

Tony's workstation. You needed to get the shackles off your arms if you wanted to stand a chance, "Tony? How do I take these off?" you asked, pointing to your cuffs.

"Already taken care off" he nodded, "Get to my desk, it's unlocked. All you need to do is actually get there. If you can"

"If I can-?" you began asking, but a loud explosion sound cut you off, causing the bed to shake as a wind blew through your room. "What the fuck!?"

"He may have found the grenade launchers" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Y/n," Steve called for you, "Please, be careful. And call us. Me and Nat will take the jet but I don't know-"

"Don't worry" you shook your head, jumping off the bed and rushing to your closet. You chose the first clothes you saw laying before your eyes and put them on, ready to go look for Bucky. "I got this, I promise"

"Oh, and Y/n?" Tony said, making you turn to him at the last minute, "Try not to fry my tower"

You nodded and refrained from making any promises you didn't know you could keep. 

As soon as you walked out the door, the sound of automatic rifles going off became deafening. Stepping over piles of broken glass, you made your way to the emergency staircase, heading to Tony's lab. You did so with maximal caution, knowing that if you were spotted, there would be no going back.

Descending the last remaining flight of stairs until his work station, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, knowing just how close you were. Silently rounding the corner, your eyes landed on Bucky's frame, easily holding one of the remaining SHIELD agents up by the neck.

He turned to look at you, eyes cold and empty. Not even rage. There was nothing there. No expression, no empathy, no feeling. It was as if he was dead. This wasn't him. 

"Buck-" you panted, raising your hands up in the air, signaling surrender. You eyed Tony's desk, determined to stall him until you managed to free yourself of the cuffs.

You took a cautious step to the side, hands still up in the air. Bucky watched you as the man struggled against his hold, legs spasming uncontrollably as he kicked and squirmed, even though it was so clearly in vain.

"Don’t mind me-" you smiled, sweat flooding your pores as you slowly approached your destination. "I'll just-"

"You'll just what-?" Bucky groaned, flinging his victim with impeccable ease. The agent's body flew across the room, crushing into the only device that had the power to help you get through this. As the work station crumpled under his weight, so did your hopes of getting out of this. 

"Bucky, hey-" you mumbled, afraid of pissing him off, "I-"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he frowned, starting to march towards you. Your blood ran cold, knowing you didn't have what it took to keep up with him. You were never able to dodge anyone's blows, let alone his. When he reached you, his hand instantly reached around your neck, lifting you off the floor, "SHIELD?" he asked after taking a look at your attire. Although not carrying the emblem, it was probably the only explanation that made sense to him.

"Well, um-" you huffed, holding onto his wrist in hopes of not running out air, "No, not SHIELD"

"Then who are you?" he growled, tightening his hold on your windpipe.

"Fuck-" you gasped, kicking your legs, even through he didn't even flinch when you hit him. "You're not gonna believe this but, um-"

"Try me"

You looked into his eyes, hoping it would serve as some kind of a memento, that maybe he'd remember you. "You know me, Buck. It's Y/n, I'm- your girlfriend?"

Even saying it made you feel weird. This killing machine, apparently hell bent on wrecking havoc, was not the man you loved, and you cringed just imagining his reaction to hearing your words.

And it did turn out to be worse than expected, as he spun around, doing a complete 180° with your body before slamming you down on the floor. The wood cracked under your bones, knocking the wind out of you. The pain of the impact was excruciating, propagating along your body in waves of some physical agony you had never felt before. The sound of your bones cracking made you sick to your stomach. Your ears caught the sound of your arteries being torn as your organs collapsed.

And if you felt every inch of your body being shattered and destroyed, it was God's way of making you pay for your parent's mistakes, as when your wounds healed mere seconds later, the pain did not go away. Your nerve receptors still registered damage to the tissues, and no matter whether you were actually as good as new, your brain couldn't process that.

What consumed you the most was the fact that as you struggled to stand up, the pain of broken limbs lingered on. But you fought through it, gathered yourself and stood up, facing him again.

You winced with every muscle contraction, but eventually your eyes met his. He showed curiosity, along with something else. Something else which you wished wasn't determination to finish you.

"Can we-" you whimpered, extending a hand, "Can we talk?"

"Talk!?" Bucky raged, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm to the point where he spun you around, your back pressing against his chest. "Not here to talk" he growled into your ear.

The hairs on your body stood as you heard his voice. Even though it was technically the same voice you loved more than anything in the world, it made you now shiver with a fear you've never experienced before. 

You didn't get a chance to sink too deep in your thoughts before Bucky raised your arm, dislocating your shoulder and busting your humerus into pieces. The pain cut your legs at the knees and you screamed in agony, falling to the floor at his feet.

"Stand up" he commanded, slamming his foot into your side. The momentum made your body roll away, until you settled back on the ground, face deep in the rubble. Your muscles pulled you to your feet with ease, but the pain coursing through you was immense, nowhere near close to what you thought bearable. You felt the skin being ripped from your body and when you looked down, your clothes were torn, soaked in blood, but your skin was intact. It was what you needed to keep going - to get inside your head the fact that you were fine, because at this point, the pain was one bruise away from making you faint.

"Bucky, please-" you cried.

"Stop calling me Bucky!" he yelled, starting to approach you again.

With every step he took, you slowly backed away. "Please, listen to me, just a second, please!"

He shook his head no, a demented smile on his lips as he closed in on you.

"Bucky-"

As a reply to your question, his fist flew up, slamming into your jaw, hard enough to throw you to the ground, "Why do you keep calling me-"

"What else do you want me to call you, huh?" you yelled at him, vision blurred under too many layers of tears. "Tell me, and I'll do it if it'll get you to listen to me."

"I don't want you to call me anything-" he cocked his head to the side, unstrapping a handgun from his thigh. He loaded it as you barely managed to crawl away, "You can take the pain. I respect that. Let's see how well you do with these lead bullets"

You saw them in slow motion, barely managing to duck your head behind the remains of what once was a heavy wooden bookshelf. The bullets missed your chest and face, but you saw them, felt them penetrate your skin, ripping through your muscles. 

The sound of your tissues being pulled to shreds made you feel sick to your stomach. As the bullets left your body, your wounds closed back up, leaving you a crying mess on the floor. Your throat constricted due to the wave of shock that hit your body, and your lungs started hyperventilating. Lightheaded and gasping for air, you struggled to crawl away from him, tears marching down your face and ending up on the floor, nothing but diluting the droplets of blood that had fallen from your body mere minutes before. Your heart was in overdrive and your vision blurred as every fiber of your being threatened to let you down. "Please-" you screamed, your voice breaking as you raised your hand for him, "Let's talk, please. That's all I want. Give me a minute"

But he didn't. He didn't even consider it. Instead, the force that controlled the body of the only man that ever managed to make you feel safe, tortured, destroyed and consumed your body for what felt like the better part of an eternity.

You had been thrown through walls, shattered windows, had glass shards lodged into your body from all angles. He unloaded cannon after cannon on you, used up all the ammo he had on him, only growing more and more annoyed when you refused to give up.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. Now you were standing by the window, inches away from the spot where two nights ago, you and Bucky clicked your glasses, smiling at how far you both had come. He laughed, saying he wouldn't have made it without you. And then he kissed you, confessing that the thought that maybe you couldn't have made it without him either, was what kept him going. 

And then there you were. 48 hours later, again, just the two of you. But now there weren't any champagne glasses between you, just his metal arm, wrapped around your neck, this time, as he said, for the last time.

"I don't get it-" he scowled, teeth gritted and frustration in his voice, "Why don't you fight me?"

"I can't fight you" you whimpered as your tears poured down against his cold hand, "And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"WHY?" Bucky screamed, and for a second, you thought you saw a crack there, a glister of emotion hidden deep in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

"Because I love you" you cried.

But there was none. He rolled his eyes and pushed you back, your body slamming into the window. You should've thought faster, been more witty and considerate, but terror washed over you and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed onto him for dear life, pulling him down with you, plummeting to the ground from what looked like the 70th floor of the Stark Tower. 

If until now you had been afraid of what you'd have to endure, it was now that you met true terror. You'd survive the fall, but he wouldn't. 

Even in the air, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed, he kept fighting you. Even in this state, you admired his determination - he had a job and wanted to get it done - even if that job was killing you. A man of his word.

By now, the pain was unnoticeable. If you wanted to keep him alive you had to act fast. Clinging to his body despite his vicious protests and ruthless blows, you used your momentum to turn the two of you around. And you did so at the last second, as before you knew it, your bodies crashed into the boulevard below, sinking down into the asphalt as it crumpled under your weight. 

The impact cut your breath away and there was a gnawing feeling all over your body, as if you had blades under your skin, pulling your body apart fiber by fiber. But you snapped out of it.

"Bucky!" you yelled, slapping his cheek.

He had fallen completely on top of you, his head pressed against your chest. He didn't move and the continuous buzz in your ears made it physically impossible for you to tell whether he was breathing for not.

"Bucky, please-" you cried, trying to move him so you could see his face. 

Nothing.

"No, no, no!!" you screamed, "You can't die, baby, please! Not like this, love. Please come back to me, Buck, I'm begging you!!"

You remained there and wailed, with him glued to your chest. Your arms had wrapped around his motionless frame, keeping him as close as you could. Nothing could have gotten you to stop. Tens of people gathered around the crater your fall created around your bodies, police showed up, cameras were pointed at your faces, but you didn't care. If he died, so would you. 

"You're all I have, baby-" you muttered, voice hoarse and dry from all the wailing and crying, "Please, you can't leave me. This can't be the end of us. Please, I don't know what to do, Bucky, please!"

You were soaked. In blood, and you didn't even know whether it was his or yours. God, how you hoped it all belonged to you, how the pool of blood you laid in was all yours. Tears soaked your face, pouring down your temples as your whole frame shook with your sobs, that was the true agony. You'd rather spend the rest of your days fighting for your life if it meant he got to see the sun again. You wished he'd hate you, rather than not feel anything at all ever again.

"Please-" you said again but this time your voice didn't even reach your own ears, you didn't hold that power anymore, "Please, you need to come back! You deserve so much better than this. You're the best man I have even known, you can't die like this, not today, Bucky. Not today!"

By now, the people around you had scattered. They knew your identities and for all the wrong reasons, feared you both. You were grateful for that now, you were alone with him again, as the sun began to set and a chilly New York night began to settle. 

Still, you didn't move. You still had faith. Or you were just stubborn. There was no way you'd pull away until someone either pried him off of you against your will, or someone that you trusted showed up promising they'd help.

None of them came, and you remained there, cradling his frame to your chest begging whatever God was listening, to bring him back. You didn't know if one of them heard you, or if it was just blind luck or fate, but you only realised his metal arm was lodged under your body when he moved it.

"Buck!" you cried, cupping his cheeks in your bloodied palms as literal life cursed through your veins. "Oh god, you're ok, you're alive!! You came back to me!"

You managed to hug him close one more time, before he pushed himself off of you. In the process of standing up, his eyes met yours for the briefest second. Again, nothing.

He gathered himself to his feet, wordlessly bending down to grab your hair. He forced you up and you instantly obliged, following him back into the building.

Once inside, he knocked you through a glass door, your body once again absorbing his fury. The pain had dissipated into a dull ache, and this time, you stood up faster. "I can do this all day" you sighed, the lie slipping past your lips with such ease, as if the energy inside your core wasn't running dangerously low.

"What did you just say?" he questioned.

He seemed taken aback, "I said that I can do this all day"

"Who are you?" Bucky yelled, marching towards you, determined to get answers out of you through nothing else but brute force. He slammed you back onto the floor, only to straddle your thighs and pick you up by the collar of your shit. "Why won't you just fucking die!?"

Circling your fingers around his wrists, you searched for his eyes, "Wanna know what keeps me alive?"

"Are you stupid enough to tell me?"

"I might be" you shook your head, "but I'll still tell you"

"Why?"

"Because I know you won't kill me" you cried, "I know you know me. I know you're in there somewhere. The man I love. I know you don't have it in you to kill me"

"Try me" he laughed, drunk with the power you were so willing to give him.

"These-" you panted, raising your arms in the air to show him your cuffs, "These are what's been keeping me alive but I know you won't-"

But you never finished the sentence. He didn't even think twice before ripping them off your arms and throwing them onto the floor, along with all the other mess you two had made.

You never thought he'd actually spare you. So it wasn't a surprise when the first thing he did after freeing you, was reach for his knife with the sole purpose of driving it through your chest.

But you were faster. You framed his face into your palms, releasing the energy from your body and allowing it to flow through his. It felt weird, wrong and chaotic, and the power surge wiggled itself out of your control, until a blast between your bodies sent you both flying back across the room, falling down onto the floor.

And this time none of you stood up.

-

"I leave them alone for what, a day?" Tony sighed, walking out of his Iron Man suit. 

"Holy shit!" Steve cried out, his knees betraying him as he tried to rush to you.

"No, wait!" Nat stopped him, "You can't wake them up until we get them somewhere safe. We need to make new cuffs for Y/n, and find a way to keep Bucky contained in case, you know… he's still not Bucky"

Steve was fuming with anger, nostrils flaring, "These are my friends you're talking about!" he exclaimed, pointing to your bodies on the floor, "Your friends too, Nat. You see them like this and the first thing you think about is restraining them!?"

"We need to make sure we're all safe" she sighed with sympathy, grabbing his hand for a comforting rub.

"You make sure you're safe-" Steve scoffed, "I'll make sure they're alive"

"Hey-" Nat stopped him, "If you touch her and startle her in any way, you die!"

Her words hurt him but he knew you never would. Steve felt his heart shutter just imaging what you must have gone through. He was ablaze with pure determination to prove Nat wrong, and to do right by you and Buck. "I carried her in my arms while she was passed out when we rescued her from that facility-" he fummed, pointing at you, "She never knew a man that didn't try to hurt her before. And when she woke up, she was afraid. Scared for her life. She cried in my arms and begged me to not let them take her again! She was never anywhere close to hurting me! She's good. So good. There's only good inside of her, I trust her to not hurt me more than I trust myself, ok? If I'm wrong, so be it. I die. I don't care. She deserves someone to look after her. If I had to chose, saving her would be the way I'd want to go"

His rant left Nat speechless. She just gave him a simple nod and stepped back. 

Carefully, he picked you up and carried you upstairs, as Tony put his suit back on and carried Bucky.

-

Never in your life had you woken up this fast. Your eyes snapped open and you sprung to your feet. 3 pairs of anxious eyes watched you, all of them ready to jump into action in case the situation called for an intervention.

"What-" you gawked, scanning the room, "Where is Bucky? Is he- is-"

"He's fine, Y/n" Steve assured you. He stood up and slowly approached you, arms outstretched. Your first instinct was to go for it, but when you reached him, you placed both your hands in his, and looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, "Can I see him?"

Sympathy took over his features, but Tony jumped in, "Absolutely not"

"What-" you turned to him, "Why? Did I-?"

"You didn't do anything wrong" Steve hummed, engulfing you in a hug even though you remained stiff in your spot. He rubbed your back, eager to soothe your worried mind, but you were too out of it.

“Can I just go?” you whispered, pulling back just enough so that he could see how serious you were, “I need to see him, please”

“Are you mad at him?” Nat asked with caution and your face fell.

“No!” you gasped, stepping away from Steve’s embrace, “No, not even one bit. I know that was not him, I know it’s not his fault. But when Bucky wakes up-”

“If he wakes up-” Tony sneered, roaming around the room. He nursed a glass of whiskey, as a mixture of disgust and exhaustion was readable on his features. 

“When he wakes up!” you spoke through gritted teeth. Determination coated your words and the hairs on your body stood as you refused to even think of the alternative. “He will wake up. And I have to be there”

“What if the Winter Soldier wakes up?” Nat asked.

“That didn’t stop me last time”

“Oh, no!” Tony butted in, stepping in between you and Nat, arms outstretched, “You know I’m not one to cry after money, but you and your pal left me with $37 million worth of damage. You two are one broken cup away from getting thrown into the streets”

The sum he mentioned made the skin on your back crawl. You didn’t even have $37 dollars to your name, but it made sense. Your body alone crashed through three TV’s, one gamma ray projector and if you thought about it, you remembered Bucky pulling apart one of the Iron Legion robots, and only the thought made you flinch. 

“So-” Tony said, “You two? Never in the same room again!”

“Take these off then” you suggested, pointing at the cuff on your wrists.

“Ha” Tony exclaimed, “A big chunk of that money comes from you frying all my electronics up until the 12th floor. Absolutely not”

“Tony, I’m serious” you whined, “He will hate himself. I need to be there! I need to make sure he doesn’t take all the blame on his shoulders”

He frowned, and sighed. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and you hoped that core deep inside his chest really made up for a heart. And… it did. None of them were happy about it, but they finally accepted. Nat and Tony would have never probably given up if it wasn’t for Steve - right now, like so many times before, he really did seem like your guardian angel.

They ended up monitoring the room, and Tony waited for your signal, one hand on his cigarette, the other on the Iron Man suit. He was all talk - if anything was to go down and you would actually be in danger again, he wouldn’t even think twice before tearing his towers into pieces if it meant he could get you out alive.

And so you left, thanked them in the form of a simple nod, and headed down the dark hallways.

Oh, how you hated this.

What consumed you now had nothing to do with the pain you had endured in the past 24 hours. Its source was not physical, yet your whole body ached. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in some way, it was - Bucky was your whole world, and the fear of losing him breathed down your neck.

It had been about 20 minutes since you stopped in front of the door that led to the room he'd been confined in. When FRIDAY announced that Bucky woke up, you rushed over, only for a hazardous sense of anguish to stop you dead in your tracks. Judging by the way he sat in the corner of the room, his fingers aimlessly tracing every indentation in the handcuffs Tony had restrained him with, you had no problem telling which one of him woke up. He broke your heart. His room was equipped with 5 different cameras and 2 microphones. Completely unaware of them, he sat inches away from one, and your heart shattered, sinking 3 stories below when you heard him whimper.

It was soft and quiet. His whole frame shook as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was hunched down, brown hair covering his perfect face, but still, his sadness brought you to tears. 

You heard him again. He sniffled as he laid back against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, lips almost white and dry as his chest raced up and down. His muscles clenched and his feet bounced against the metal floor, it was a sight you never wished you see ever again. 

Softly, you raised a hand, and thought twice before finally knocking.

"Go away," Bucky called, voice all hoarse and dry as it broke halfway through.

You were able to see him on the small screen next to the door, but he had no idea who came to visit.

Out of instinct, you knocked again before typing in the password and ever so slowly walking inside.

Instantly, he looked up. He was surrounded by an air of darkness and despair, ever so obviously tormented to the peak of his capability.

He stared at you for a few seconds as his eyes watered, and then he gathered his lips into a straight line, shaking his head. "Please, go"

"Bucky, I-"

"Please" he cried, head falling forward as he toyed with the metal edges of his prosthetic arm. He shook his head, "Please, don't do this. Just, go"

You took a deep breath, only then entering the room far enough to actually be able to close the door behind you. Slowly turning back to him, your palms sweated as you had no idea what to say to him. 

"Can you talk to me, Buck? Please?"

He chuckled, "About what?" 

"About whatever it is you think you did wrong, I-"

As he heard your words, his hands instantly flew up to cover his face. He was, however, stopped, as the cuffs on his left wrist kept him from moving too much. While a new row of tears flooded his cheeks, his eyes met yours, "Look at me.. I need to be restrained while you're alone with me"

"Those cuffs would literally do nothing to stop you from escaping, and you know it"

"Maybe it's just a sense of reassurance"

"To who?" you scoffed.

"To them" Bucky responded, nodding his head towards one of the cameras. "I'm a monster" he added, wiggling his cuff restrained hand, "I'm a danger to everyone"

"Oh for fucks sake" you rolled your eyes, marching up to him. With absolutely no remorse, you grabbed his hand and harshly pulled apart the metal that had him restrained to the bed. Before he got a chance to say anything, you bent down, unclipped the microphone from the foot of the bed, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it, until it was nothing but a small pile of shattered plastic.

And you kept going, destroying the second microphone along with the 5 cameras on the walls as Bucky watched you with surprise. You finished by going for the door and locking it from the inside. "You think I'm afraid of you?" you asked softly, "For 6 hours you did your best to kill me and failed miserably. Look at me, I'm unscathed"

"Did you hear yourself?" he cringed, shaking his head, "I tried to kill you"

"Ok, I know I said that you did your best-" you said, mentally scolding yourself for the error in communication. "We both know that wasn't you. That wasn't you, Buck. It was Hydra. It was the winter soldier, not you. My Bucky would never-"

"Y/n-" he stopped you, "I know you don't see things the way I do-"

"But I see them the right way"

"Listen-" Bucky sighed, driving his hands through his hair. For the first time that night you actually saw his full face, his cheek and signature scowl, his blue eyes and the tilt of the corner of his mouth - your soul melted when you associated the picture with the words that came out of his mouth. "I can't blame you for being here. I can't. If the roles were reversed, I'd be doing the exact same thing. But, holy fuck-" he sighed, pausing to gather his thoughts. Bucky looked you up and down. His lips quivered and his head fell to the side as a sad smile appeared on his lips. "Remember this morning? How we talked about our hypothetical child?" he laughed and shook his head, "Even if I know we could never have a kid because we're both sterile, it was still the most beautiful thought that ever crossed my mind, Y/n''

"Mine too, Buck-"

"And what did I do?" he dismissed your empathy, "Two hours later I was unloading an AK-47 into your stomach, like the brainwashed maniac that I am!"

"Don’t say that!" you exclaimed, "Don't you dare think about things like this!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he threw his hands up in the air, "What does it matter whose fault it is? I get to live with the consequences."

"But-" you breathed out, "We can work through this. You did it before. You can't let something that hydra did dictate your life, Bucky. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be happy!"

"I tried to kill you!" he screamed, for the first time losing his calm and standing up to be at the same level as you.

"That was not you!"

"So what?" he huffed, "I was there, Y/n! I will never, NEVER get the feeling of crushing your bones out of my head! I felt your neck snap! I choked you with my arms! That is not something I can live with! I can't live a life by your side if every time I look at you I'm reminded of those horrible things I did to you!"

"Buck-" you cried, looking at him from behind too many layers of unshed tears, "Please, don't say that"

"I'm sorry" he responded in the same fashion, his pain coating every word he said. "When I close my eyes I see you laying in a puddle of blood. I can't stop hearing your screams of agony. Agony that no matter how you put it, was caused by my hands. That's not something we can live with, Y/n. You were not made for this. You really do fucking deserve someone that won't wake up one day and try to murder you in cold blood"

"And what do you deserve, Buck?" you quietly asked, searching for his eyes, "To live your life alone? Forever? If you had been with anyone else, this would have turned out so much worse. That cute barista three blocks down that always scribbles a heart on your coffee cup? She's cute, yeah. You deserve to be loved by someone, but if that someone was her, you wouldn't be drowning in guilt right now, Bucky, you'd be mourning her. Yes, you got troubles. Yes, you've got a past more fucked up than anyone else I have ever heard about. That's the kind of shit you can't change. But whatever you do from now on, is in your fucking hands and yours alone. Don't try to tell me you're not worthy of having someone, because that's the fattest load of crap I've ever heard. You're a good man! With a fucked up past! And a dark side that you need to fight! And you have me! I don't care you dropped Tony's piano on my legs, apparently I can take it! I'm here for you no matter what! You don't want to be with me anymore? Fine. But don't you dare push me away, thinking that a ruined future makes up for a ruined past"

"Who's to say I won't try it again?" he asked, "I don't know what triggered the transition. But what if once a week I end up trying to kill you-"

"Apparently you can't!" you laughed bitterly.

"Ok, so I can't" he nodded in approval, "Is that what you want? I should be your rock, your best friend, I should always be there for you. Do you want to have your whole world turned upside down whenever my brain decides to go berserk?"

"See, Buck" you sighed, "Of course I don't want that. I can't fucking stand here and tell you that I do. What kind of credibility would I have then? But you know what I want? You. You and whatever nazi shit that comes along. I want you. To help you. To have you with me. To see you everyday. If every Saturday at 10am you decide you want to kill me, you best believe I'm sacrificing my morning coffee just so we can kung fu around the living room"

He looked at you for a long second, the corners of his lips fighting a hard battle against the hint of a smile that started to show on his features. Eventually he caved and chuckled, shaking his head, "That was a bit funny"

"And fucking true," you cried, going for his hands and bringing them up to your chest. He winced, but you spoke up again, determined to not let his mind torture him.

"I love you, Bucky"

"How do you not hate me?" he choked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you seriously look at me and not get even the slightest instinct to run away?"

"Bucky..." you breathed out, cupping his cheek. "How could I run away when I've never seen you in more pain than right now?"

"You're an angel, you know that?" 

"I've been called a lot of things" you giggled, "Angel isn't one of them, but if that's what you want, I'll take it"

"Come here" he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had you nuzzle against his chest, his hold keeping you tight and secure. His heart beat against your cheek and your eyes watered again. There wasn't one thing in the world you wouldn't do for that heart - to make sure it keeps beating, and that it keeps the man you love alive. And content, above all. All you wanted right now was for him to accept the things that happened. You wanted to take whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders, and put it upon yourself. "I love you so much, Bucky" you cried against his chest as your hold tightened around him, "I hate to see you torn like this. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. It terrifies me. I love you with all that I am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You deserve the world, baby"

"So do you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You felt his chest shake, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of his lungs. You looked up to see him fight back a sob, his eyes wide open, glossy and red, trained down on you, "I love you too much to do this, Y/n. I'm sorry, I don't think I can"

"No!" you gasped, pressing your face back against his shoulder, "Don't do that. You can't do that. No"

"We won't work, Y/n" Bucky said as he brought you even closer, "I can't look at you anymore. I can't look at you without dying inside. You don't want to live with me like that"

"Yes, I do!" you sobbed. "I'll work with anything you give me, I swear there is nothing more I want. Just you. Just you and me. Bucky, please don't do this"

He held you close for what felt like half a second, but rationally speaking, your legs were getting numb. You just stood there, clinging to his body, taking in his scent and listening to his breathing even out until he pushed you away. Oh, how you didn't want to let go. Ever. But you did, and choked back a sob as soon as you felt the cold air of the room brush against the part of your body that had been pressed to his.

"We should get some sleep, Y/n"

"Are you coming with me?" you whimpered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

Bucky shook his head, "I think I'll just sleep here tonight"

That broke you. The shock and terror cut your breath away. It felt impossible - the feeling of losing him. The amount of pain that surged through you. At that particular moment, you felt like cracking your chest open to grip your heart into your hand and pick apart the broken parts. But not even that felt good enough, you were fairly sure you'd be left with nothing. It felt like a slap across your cheek, like a cloth had been placed over your mouth and your legs cut at the knees. It felt like the end. 

Optimistic by nature, not even you could deny the reason he wanted to sleep alone. It was clear as day.

"If-" you mumbled, tears coating your face at their own free will, voice shaking as you barely managed to articulate the words over the violent sobs that ripped their way out of your throat. "If I promise to not do anything to try and convince you to stay… can you promise me that in case you decide to leave, you'll come and tell me first?"

"Oh, doll" Bucky broke down all over again, throwing himself at you again. He collapsed on top of you, molding his body around yours. "I promise, angel"

You just nodded. That was all you could do. It took another few moments for you to gather yourself and stop wailing, but you did, and then, with nothing else other than a sad smile, you left. 

Your feet carried you to your room, and you were ready to collapse on top of your bed. Eager to cuddle into his pillows. They smelled like that shower gel you got him and you hated it. You wanted his scent. Not even caring how ridiculous it sounded, you padded over to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, the one Bucky uses to discard all his worn clothes. 

You wanted to find a shirt he wore, one that smelled exactly like you knew him, but before you reached the clothes pile, your attention was drawn to the window.

Steve was standing there, facing the busy streets outside, hands in his pocket and his head turned in your direction.

"I didn't see you, sorry" you gasped, as your eyes accommodated to the darkness.

"It's fine" he shook his head, "I just figured you'd turn on the lights, you know, like the normal people. Didn't think I'd scare you"

"Yeah, sorry" you sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "I did even think about turning the lights on"

He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod. He knew your pain. He lost enough in his life, and seeing his best friend sink back into his darkness was surely not easy for him either.

"Is he ok?" Steve eventually asked.

You shook your head, "He's too good of a man to be ok"

"That is Bucky" he laughed, and you couldn't help but do the same. The irony.

Steve's curiosity was palpable in the room. Words could not describe the appreciation you had for him for respecting your boundaries and not pushing you in a moment like this. But he deserved to know.

You opened your mouth to explain to him what happened, but as your mind processed everything all over again, you broke down. "I think he's gonna leave-" you cried.

Steve was quick to gather you in his arms, engulfing you in a bear hug, helping you stand on your own two feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, concern tracing his tone.

"I understand him, I do. And I promised I won't try to get him to stay if he doesn't want to. But- but I should've done more, Steve. I should've shown him somehow how much I love him. But I'm afraid he'll leave, and I don't want to live-"

"Hey, hey, hey" Steve hurried to stop you, petting your head softly before urging you to look up at him. "Bucky loves you more than I ever thought possible, ok? There's no question about it. I'm sorry I'm doing this, but I think he'll postpone it anyway"

"What?"

"The man wants to marry you, ok?" Steve smiled, "He asked Tony if he had any work for him so he could raise money. Can you imagine how that went down? He was red like a tomato, but he didn't think twice. James Barnes used the computer to look for rings for you. The Bucky I know? Never would've done this. You brought to life a part of him that no one else has seen before. He loves you. With all that he is. And trust me when I tell you, he won't stand to be away from you. You're his whole world, Y/n. He's my best friend, trust me when I tell you this is something you'll work through. I'll help, we'll all help. You're not gonna lose him, Y/n. He's so beat up about all of this because he loves you this much. He's all yours. If he decides to leave, I need you to be strong because he will be back. I got him back 70 years later. You just need to trust him. Trust his heart, ok?"

"Oh my god" you cried, "I don't know what to say"

"Don’t say anything" he chuckled, "We've been through so much together. All of us. Even if we try, nothing pulls us apart, ok? How many times has Loki died, hm?"

"God, Steve!" you scoffed somewhat amused and pulled back just to hit him, "Did you seriously compare Bucky to Loki!?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" he laughed. "But I'm serious. You've both been through so much worse than this. You'll get through this one too. And in case you ever feel like you won't, I'm here, ok?"

"Ok…"

Funny as it all was, it worked. He calmed you down - to some extent. Gave you hope you didn't know existed. If it wasn't for Steve, you probably would have not been able to fall asleep. And even though dreams didn't visit you, and you never relaxed enough to actually get some rest, you just dozed off. All clothed and curled diagonally on the bed, you cuddled Bucky's pillow to your chest as your eyes slowly fell closed.

When you opened them again, it was still dark out. You had no idea what pulled you awake as you struggled to sit up on the bed, but then you heard Bucky's voice again, from the doorway.

"Y/n?"

“Buck?” you gasped, turning around. Only his silhouette was visible, head hung low and hands deep in his pockets. He was leaning against the doorway, silently awaiting your response.

Right then and there, you felt your world collapse. Steve’s monologue made you actually fucking believe things would be fine, but here he was, keeping his promise. In the buttcrack of night, he kept his word, bidding you a much feared farewell.

“Is-” you sobbed, jumping out of bed and rushing towards him. You almost knocked him off of his feet when you flung yourself at him, but he was quick to reciprocate, caging you between his arms. “Is this it? You’re leaving?”

He didn’t say anything which frankly made everything worse. You broke down even further, clinging to his shirt as if it was the only source of oxygen keeping you alive - it sure felt like it.

“Look at me” Bucky urged you, tilting your chin up, “Please?”

You slowly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his.

“I’m sorry, I will make it up to you” he whispered, a frown settling above his tired eyes, “You’ll see”

“What does that even mean?" you questioned, tired and sick of this ongoing conflict that should not even have been an issue to begin with. "You don't have to make up for anything"

"I know you see things like that" he cooed, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. He spoke softly, his breath fanning against your skin, somehow, even in this situation, managing to calm you down. "But you can understand me too, right?"

"I don't want to" you shrugged, "I don't care. Why does it matter if I understand you or not if you're gonna leave anyway?"

"I'm not leaving, doll"

"What!?" you beamed, pulling away from his hold and grabbing his face in your palms, "You're not- but you're-"

His whole frame softened, "I'm not here to say goodbye, Y/n. I'm not going anywhere"

"Oh god" you gasped.

"Come on, come here" Bucky chuckled softly, bringing you back into his hold, "I'm staying here. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You're the most badass woman I know and I managed to break you"

"I love you, Buck" 

"I love you more, Y/n" he sighed, "I'll make everything right, I promise"

"Oh, fuck" you breathed out relieved, "Just do whatever you want, I don't care. You're here. That's all that matters."

"And we also need to teach you to fight-" he added, "For real. And find a way for you to take those goddamn shackles off in case this happens again"

"Tony won't be too happy about it" you laughed.

"Fuck if I care-" Bucky said strenly, pointing at you, "Next time, you need to be able to stop me. And fast"

"Maybe it won't happen again"

"Maybe not" Bucky nodded, "But if it does, we need to be ready"

"Thank you" you said, "I know I didn't play this right. I know I literally dismissed everything that you must have gone through today. I'm sorry"

"You don't get to be sorry" Bucky stopped you, "Not after-"

"Then you don't get to, either!"

"Meh" he shrugged, "We'll see"

"Bucky!"

"I love you" he laughed, bending down to pick you up. He planted his hands on the back of your thighs, picking you up with ease and walking you over to the bed. You plopped back against the fluffy mattress with a huff, and giggled as he crawled his way on top of you. Instantly, his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, the kind that made your chest ache. You moaned against his lips as love transpired through his touch. It was overwhelming and the first happy tears of the day streamed down your temples as you arched yourself against him.

"I'm so weak for you, fuck" Bucky groaned, his right arm reaching around your back and pressing you against his chest. "You're everything" he added as he kissed his way along your neck, "I'm all yours forever, Y/n. I love you too much"

"I'm here, baby" you moaned, hiding your face into his shoulder, "You're mine, Bucky. All mine."

His lips didn't leave your body as he pushed himself up just enough to be able to reach the buckle of his jeans. The sound made your core ache, and your mouth watered.

There was no patience in his movements. He barely pulled his jeans down to his knees before ridding you of your pajama pants. He lodged himself between your thighs, his mouth instantly back on yours again.

"Come on" you panted, steading your arms against his strong back. Your legs found their way around his frame, ready to pull him closer.

When Bucky guided his hands between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your opening, you whimpered in anticipation. Agonisingly slow, he trailed his tip along your folds before reaching your clit. With a blissful moan, he reached further up, tapping his cock against your bare cunt a couple of times before returning his attention back to you. 

"I got you, baby" he hummed, pecking your lips. "You ready? Is this ok?"

With eagerness, you nodded and wiggled under his weight, your pussy aching for him. "Yes, yes"

When you felt his cock push past your folds, you moaned out loud, your voice cracking with the pure pleasure that took over your being.

He eased himself in, going all the way until he all but knocked the breath out of you, and he stopped. Bucky reached down to kiss you again, his cock motionless, balls deep inside of you.

He bit down on your lip and you giggled.

"Felt your pussy clench around me, doll" he laughed, "You're good to me"

"You may be all mine, Buck, but I'm all yours too"

"Holy shit" he panted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was as if you weren't real. He'd have pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he really did not want to wake up. So he kept going.

Nibbling at the skin of your neck, he started to pull himself out of you. The slow pace was driving you insane. Your need grew so strong you felt everything. His breath, the way his hair tickled your chin, his strong around around your shoulders, his massive thighs rubbing against yours, every small vein along his cock that drove you closer and closer to the sweetest bliss you had ever known. 

He got you all worked up at an agonisingly slow pace, before his thrusts became more and more aggravated. You moaned with each thrust despite your struggles to keep quiet.

"You know how much I love hearing you, doll" Bucky shook his head as he drove himself back inside of you all the way, "Moan for me"

"Fuck, ok" you gasped, and closed your eyes as you started to fall apart. You gripped the bed sheets into your hands and pulled as he kept fucking you, deep and hard.

"You're so good, baby" he groaned, "So, so good for me"

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, fervently sucking deep, maroon marks all ice your skin. Gutural grounds betrayed his air of self control as a plethora of curse words escaped his lips. "Taking me so fucking well. I can't keep going like this, you're too fucking tight-"

"Cum, baby" you encouraged, voice low and tender as you spoke against his ear, "Cum for me"

"Don’t have to tell me twice" he chuckled.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular, as his eyes flew closed. You missed the blue of his eyes, but his mouth was slightly agape as he panted his way to an orgasm.

His chest heaved against yours, "How do you feel so fucking good?" Bucky cursed, eyes still closed as he barely managed to mumble his words between the numerous grunts of pleasure that forced their way out of his throat.

You gave him no answer, instead just clung to him tighter, "Fuck, Bucky, I'm close-"

"Come on" he encouraged, hurrying to rub your clit. His fingers found your bud in an instant, working experienced, familiar circles that almost drove you over the edge. "Cum with me, ok?"

You nodded, gathering your lips between your teeth. He kept fucking you, harder and faster until he had turn limp under his weight. You came as his name rolled off your lips, and he followed seconds after, pumping his juices deep inside your pussy. 

You felt his absolute pleasure as he breathed heavily against your shoulder. He kept going until you were both spent, and then fell down beside you. 

"Bucky-" you whined, turning over and curling into his side, the lack of contact making you more needy than ever.

"Yes, darling?" he panted, tapping your chin.

"Nothing. I just love you"

"Love you too, doll" he huffed, spinning you around so you laid on your back.

He effortlessly helped you out of your shirt and plopped down on top of you, his head resting on your bare chest. His warm, right hand cupped your breast as he closed his eyes. He wrapped himself around you, "Hold me" he muttered, "please"

"Always, Bucky" you said, engulfing him in the tightest hold you could muster. Only then did you feel him calm down completely, and there was nothing in the world you could ever ask for.

-

If you liked it, please reblog and tell me what you thought? :)

[lixiepeach]

Vampire Stray Kids Teaser

Summary: Fourty-seven years ago, Y/N’s life ended after a chance encounter at a nightclub with her now vampire sire Hyunjin. The arrogant ex-prince has hated her since that night, blaming her for everything and has made it his goal for the rest of eternity to make sure she knows it. 

Another chance encounter has her pining after a very human university student. She knows getting close to him will put his life at risk, but she can’t help but be drawn in by his sweet nature and adorable smile. What happens when her vengeful sire learns of her interest in the human boy? Can she save him or will Hyunjin ruin everything once again? 

Characters: Vampire!Chan, Vampire!Minho, Vampire!Changbin, Vampire!Hyunjin, Vampire!Jisung, Vampire!Felix, Human!Seungmin, Human!Jeongin, Vampire!Reader

Pairing: Starts Hyunjin x reader, but endgame is Jeongin x reader

Warnings: Blood (it’s vampires so...), violence, a little gore, pining, alcohol, lots of death, explicit sexual content, plenty of angst and some fluff, Hyunjin is a major asshole. 

A/N: So here’s the untitled vampire au that has been haunting me since Play With Fire came out and it’s finally started to become something. Here’s a bit that I wrote today. I’m not going to seriously work on it until after I finish Red Moon, so it probably won’t start to be posted until closer to October. I’m not going to make it as long as Red Moon has turned out to be either (of course I say that but who knows?) Yeah, let me know what you think and if you’re interested in reading more. Also trying another reader insert. Let me know if you like it, or if you prefer an OC. I’ll write either. 

1973

He’s like an angel. His body moves so graciously to the beat of the disco music booming through the speakers. His shirt is barely holding on, two buttons in the middle the only thing holding it together. Smooth expanses of porcelain skin are revealed with every movement. The shirt billows around his slim hips and long legs encased in simple black trousers. His black hair is shoulder length, held back partially by a simple tie in the back. He’s ethereal, completely lost in the moment as he dances. 

The bodies on the dance floor have left a clearing around him, most of them too intimidated to approach. Those bold enough have been ignored or downright shunned. He’s waiting for the one. The right one. 

You’ve been watching him for the past few weeks. He frequents this club on the weekends when it’s the most busy. You yourself don’t frequent it often, but this mysterious stranger has drawn you in. He comes early, never drinks, and disappears when the club is at its busiest. You’ve never been able to follow him; one second he’s there, the next he’s gone. You tug at the hem of your dress as his eyes scan over the crowd around the dance floor. You’re cursing yourself for wearing long sleeves as his eyes train on you. A beading sweat forms on the back of your neck, a smirk crossing his lips before he’s turning, eyes breaking contact. 

You continue to watch him move in ways you never thought humanly possible. He turns to look at you again over his shoulder, plump lips pulled back as he bites at his finger before spinning in a circle. You’ve never been much of a dancer, but perhaps tonight you were going to be. 

You down the rest of your drink before weaving through the crowds as they press closer to the dance floor, the beat of a new song starting. It’s not hard to find him, your body practically colliding with his, but he steadies you with hands on your hips. Something sparks beneath your skin at his touch, hands gripping his strong shoulders as he pulls you closer. He’s chosen you. Out of everyone in the packed club, you’re the one tonight.

His body moves, hands guiding yours as if he knows you’re inexperienced in this medium. His eyes are intense as they stare down at your face, your own eyes focused on his. His face is youthful, younger than you would have expected but you can feel he’s an old soul. There’s an age to him that you can’t find in his looks. 

He brings you closer, hips gently grinding against yours as he wraps you completely in his arms. You let your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth going to your ear. 

“You’ve been watching me.” He says, voice just as melodic as you had imagined. 

“Everyone watches you.” You say, pressing your face close to his neck so you can hear. He’s taller than you, even in your heeled boots he’s leaning down to reach you. 

He laughs at that, lips brushing against your skin. “But you especially. Found something you like?” 

You can’t help it, the alcohol starts to go to your head as you nod. He pulls away from you a bit so he can stare at you again, biting his lip. Desire is thrumming through your body to the beat of the music. You want him. By the way he’s looking at you, you know he wants you too. This angel that had hypnotized the entire club had chosen you. 

But you were soon to learn he was no angel. 

He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd of bodies. They seem to part for him, though no one gives you a parting glance. He leads you to the back of the club, exiting through the back door. The cold air outside the club chills your skin, the thin material of your dress suddenly not enough. Though it doesn’t matter, because he’s pressing you up against the wall of the building. Despite the warm club you had just left, his body is strangely cold as he presses it to yours, pinning you to the wall. 

His lips are just as soft as you pictured, sliding against yours as you kiss him. He wastes no time, hands lifting you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, sliding past it and right into your heat. He’s thick, stretching you as he presses inside. He’s far from your first, not even your first frolic behind the nightclub. But he is the first to make you feel as if you could cum instantly from the feeling of him inside you. 

His thrusts are as graceful as his dancing, lips on yours to muffle your moans as he fucks you in the alley. You wonder if he does this to all the people he disappears with. If you would ever see him again. 

He begins to get sloppy, chasing his high as he presses kisses across your jaw, working his way to your neck. “I’m sorry.” You think you hear him whisper moments before a sharp pain burns on your neck. 

You sober instantly, starting to panic as something tugs at your neck. You can feel something sliding down your skin. Blood. The slurping sounds are loud in your ears as you realize what’s happening. He’s drinking your blood. You try to fight him, but he’s insatiable, your vision beginning to blur as he sucks your very life away. 

**************

Chan grips the back of the younger vampire’s neck, yanking him away from the poor girl he was draining. He tosses the vampire against the dumpster with a loud clang, not giving him time to recover before he’s grabbing the ex-prince, holding his body against the dumpster. 

Felix checks the girl slumped in a heap on the ground. Her pulse is weak, getting slower and slower. Blood is staining the front of her pink dress, flowing steadily from the wound on her neck. 

“You’ve done enough damage.” Chan says, squeezing his neck so hard he can feel the tendons straining against each other. “This is out of control. You’re done.” 

“Turn her.” Felix says, looking up at the two younger vampires. They were older in human age, but he was older in his vampire age. “That will be your punishment. She will be your responsibility.” 

Turning a human was a big choice. It was not something taken lightly. Newborn vampires were a big responsibility, much like newborn human children were. Only newborn humans weren’t impossibly strong, fast, bloodthirsty monsters. It wasn’t something a vampire could just do and then walk away. They could, but then their newborn would be a danger to humans and to vampire-kind. Usually they didn’t live long without someone to teach them. 

Chan forces Hyunjin over next to Felix, Felix biting open Hyunjin’s wrist before placing it between the girl’s lips. He knows this is a gamble, forcing Hyunjin to become a sire. But perhaps having a life to look after would teach him the delicacy of the human lives he had toyed with for the past few months. 

Or he would not change, and he had just doomed another poor soul to endure his wrath for eternity. 

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you’re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

[seamsterspell]

Of War and Theatrical Play

Summary:

In the height of European Theatre of World War II, Hange Zoë is stationed as a nurse in a field hospital. She sees first-hand the horror of the war and how it affects the soldiers. However, amidst of the chaos of the war, she gets the chance to meet a particular soldier, Levi Ackerman.

[LH World War II AU]

Chapter: 1 / 2

Rating: Mature

Link: AO3 / FFNET

A/N: Inspired by SNK S4 OST: Memory Lane! This is nothing but angst, baby (with a dash of fluff and romance, of course)

IMPORTANT: This is a story about the horror of a war, so expect some mild gore and tragedy. So please, be mindful of what might happen to this story! Thank you ❤

DISCLAIMER: Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan belongs to Hajime Isayama.

Chapter I: A Nurse and A Soldier

It has been five years since the start of the war in 1939. A year longer than the previous war who lasted for four years, from 1914-1918. Because of that, people begin to wonder whether the war will end at all, especially with so many people lost their life during the process to obtain this peace. The war itself is split into two main theatres, The European Theatre and The Pacific Theatre.

Theatre is oddly a fitting name for the war, where a bunch of actors are playing their part in the battlefield while the directors are staying behind the stage as the puppet master. The war is a play and the whole world is the audience, no one knows the ending or knows who wrote the script, not even God or the universe knows it. However, despite that, the show must go on.

After the struggles that the allies experienced throughout the earlier years of the war, by 1944 they are finally able to confine the Germany by pushing them from the east and the west. However, it comes with a price. The high mortality of the soldiers forced the medical practitioners to be near the frontlines of the war, serving in tents they called field hospital as healer and helper for the fallen body, mind, and soul of the soldiers.

A bespectacled nurse with knee length light blue dress is wearing her white apron—with a big red cross sign on the chest area—in a hurry. After that, she put her hair up in a bun and pinned a white cap on the top of her head, securing it with pins.

She glances at her reflection at the small mirror that she puts on top of a suitcase. She readjusts her glasses before finally leaving her small tent. Her steps fast and wide as she walks through the maze of dark green tents toward the biggest tent in the area, the hospital ward. A big red cross symbol can be seen right on the roof. She sees the influx of soldiers being carried in stretchers around the tent; some are still conscious, but some appears to be dying.

From what she knows, the troops are currently in the middle of the fight in the South of Ardennes, which started back in September. It is a battle where the American forces are trying to push the Germans out of Lorraine. However, due to the high numbers of fallen and injured soldiers, the American forces decide to retreat from the battle in October. They intend to let the soldiers rest and heal while the leaders revise the plan of the battle. They built a temporary station near the field hospital, located near the western front of the European war.

She immediately goes inside the tent, and she is welcomed by the stench of blood and sweat. She takes a deep breath as she walks toward the head nurse who is seen talking with a soldier who is crying.

“Hange Zoë is reporting for duty, Ma’am.” She greets the head nurse.

After a few exchanges between them, she is dismissed to do her duty. Hange looks around the tent to search for patient that she can treat. She spots two soldiers who have just arrived at the tent. The taller man with ash blond hair is leaning toward the shorter man with disheveled black hair.

“What’s the matter?” Hange approaches them as she inspects their bodies. The raven-haired soldier seems to be alright while the ash blond soldier is wincing in pain. She immediately leads them toward the empty bed, and she helps the blond-haired soldier to lay on the bed.

“He said that his whole body is in pain, and he also has a fever.” The other soldier tells her with a flat voice. However, she does catch a hint of worry on his expression. “He’s been like this since we retreated from the battlefield a few days ago.”

Hange hums as her brain begins to work, trying to understand his symptoms. “What’s his name?”

“Furlan Church.” The other soldier replies.

Hange looks over to Furlan Church and sees that he is sweating. “It’s okay, Mr. Church. I’m going to help you.” She tells him in a soft and clear voice.

The man nods and Hange takes it as a good sign, as he is still responding to the surrounding. Hange then grabs a slender case from a pocket in her apron, she opens it and gives a small glass stick to him. “Mr. Church I need you to put this thermometer under your tongue for a few minutes.”

Hange then unbuttons his tattered and dirty brown uniform and examines his torso. She finds a bunch of red rashes on the skin of his torso and arms. Hange bites her bottom lip, she has an inkling about his sickness. She returns to him and takes the thermometer from his mouth, the number in the thermometer indicates that he has a high fever.

Hange immediately grabs his hand and bends the joint gently, “Is it hurt?”

Mr. Church grunts in pain and nods at her. “I can’t move my joints without experiencing pain.”

“How about your chest? Do you experience chest pain?”

“A little bit.”

Hange nods before looking around her and notices that other nurses are busy treating other patients, so there is no one that she can ask for help. She glances at the other soldier and asks, “I’m sorry, but can you stay with him? I have to fetch something from the pharmacy.”

The soldier obliges and goes to his comrade’s side. Meanwhile, Hange walks toward the other tent, the smaller one, to asks for penicillin and morphine. After getting what she needs, she returns to Mr. Church. She notices that the raven-haired soldier is giving Mr. Church a glass of water.

“What is it?” The other soldier asks on behalf of his comrade, his gaze stares intensely at her. “What happens to him?”

Hange takes the liquid morphine into the needle, preparing to give Mr. Church a shot. “Rheumatic fever, I’m afraid. It’s quite common for soldier to get it. If we didn’t treat him soon, it can develop into more serious illness.”

The soldier pauses and looks at the weak body of his comrade. “Is he going to be okay?”

Hange cleans the area of his forearm and injects the solution through his vein. “I’m trying my best.” She says before putting away the needle.

Mr. Church seems to be calmer after the shot. Hange smiles and gives him the tablet that she takes from her other pocket. He swallows it with water in one big gulp.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him again.

“A lot better.” Mr. Church replies weakly, almost like a whisper. “Thank you.”

She let out a relieved sigh, “You’re welcome. As long as you are resting and drink your medicine, you should be fine. If you need anything, just call me.”

Mr. Church hums while the other soldier nods at her. Hange is about to leave them, but she notices something from the corner of her eyes. She approaches the other soldier and grabs his right hand.

“What—”

“You are wounded.” Hange exclaims when she sees a bandage wrapped around his palm.

He takes his hand away from her, voice latches with danger. “This is nothing.”

“Nothing for you, but not for me. Even a small wound can be dangerous if it wasn’t treated properly.” She puts her hands on the side of her waist. “I’m a nurse, you have to listen to me.”

He raises his brows at her. He looks curious as well a little bit surprised at her, and it oddly makes him appear more amiable than before. Hange cannot help but to loosen herself around him. She gently takes his hand again; her brown eyes stare deeply into his grey eyes. “Please, let me treat it.”

His eyes widen and he quickly glances away from her. “Fine,” he muttered.

Hange leads him to an empty bed next to Mr. Church—who already fall deep into his slumber. Hange gestures him to sit on the bed while she grabs a bandage and a bottle of antiseptic from her apron. She sits next to him and begins to unwrap his red and dirty bandage. She sees a gash on his palm, it is not alarming, but it still can lead into an infection.

As she cleans the cut, the soldier remains unmoved on his seat. He does not wince or hiss in pain. She takes the time to study him. He has youthful face that seem to be stuck in perpetual frown. His eyes are void with prominent dark bags underneath. Well, it is a well-known fact that most soldiers are sleep deprived. Hange also shares her fair share of sleepless night as her head is filled with worries and irrational fears.

Despite that, he is still a handsome man. He has a very strong jaw, and she imagines how well-built he is from all the training he endured. She wonders—

Hange scoffs as she brushes away her thought. She must remember that they are currently in war, where a lot of life is on the stakes. The life of the soldiers, of the volunteers, and of the innocent civilians.

“What the hell are you doing.”

Hange looks at him and tilts her head, “What am I doing?”

“You are grinning like an idiot.” He tells her. Even though his words are a little bit crude, she cannot detect any mockery in his tone.

Hange laughs as she realizes that she has just make a fool of herself. She shakes her head as she feels a subtle flush on her cheeks, “Nothing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, “You are weird.”

She shrugs as she grabs the clean bandage, “I get that a lot, trust me.” Hange carefully wraps his palm. He does not give her any respond, but Hange knows that he is watching her.

After making sure that there are no other wounds on him, she puts the rest of the bandage and bottle to her apron while she collects the dirty bandage. “You should try to take care of yourself more.” She mutters without even looking at him.

“We are in a war. There are a lot of more important things to consider, there are a lot of comrades to protect.”

Hange turns to look at him, “Well, but you couldn’t save someone when you’re dead, right?”

He stares at her, folding his hands on his chest. “Maybe I can.”

“I agree to disagree.” She mutters as she checks on Mr. Church for the last time before looking back at him. “Please look after him. If you need anything, just call me or any of the nurses here.”

She walks away from their bed, there are other soldiers that she needs to take care of. However, that does not change the fact that she can not stop glancing into their direction, especially to the nameless soldier.

•──────✦──────•

It has been almost two weeks since the first time Hange met Mr. Church and the nameless soldier. She sees the nameless soldier a few times when he is visiting Mr. Church, who is slowly but surely recovering from his illness. Unfortunately, no matter how much she wants to try to have a conversation with him, she knows how important her duty is. Thus, every time they meet; he usually nods at her while she can only responds with a small smile.

When she first volunteered to the American Red Cross as a nurse, she knows that it will not be an easy job. Treating a wounded soldier is different than treating a patient in a hospital. There is a hidden more complex nature of their mental who is also injured alongside their physical body. Thus, she found herself not only treating external wound, but also their mind.

There is a young man, a soldier, who got shot in the arm. Hange remembers him due to the snake tattoo that he has on his forearm. One day, when Hange is trying to change his bandage, the young man suddenly become furious. He refuses to be touched by her, he even shouts at her and throws the bandage to her.

Other nurses are trying to calm him, but it comes to no avail. As if the young man is possessed, his eyes empty but burning. Hange comes forward, trying to soothe him, but he immediately raises his hand toward her. Hange is about to react, but the movement of his hand is already come into a halt by another hand.

“Is that how you show your gratitude toward the people who treats you?” Hange notices that the nameless soldier is holding the arm of the young man. There is a fury in his expression as he mutters to the young man, “Don’t do something that you will regret later.”

The young man stares at him before glancing toward the nurses who are surrounding his bed. He begins to sniffle as he brings his hands to his face. “I’m sorry...” He whispers before his voice slowly turns into a cry.

Hange glances toward the nameless soldier and smiles, “Thank you.”

He nods at her before leaving to return to Mr. Church who witnesses the whole event from his bed.

Later, Hange and another nurse, Nanaba, gently approach the young man. They learn that his name is Daniel. It turns out, he is the only son of a single mother who lives in Florida.

“I don’t want to come home.” He tells them as he let Hange to change his bandage. “I don’t know what to say when I meet her.”

“Is there a reason why?” Nanaba asks, sitting on a stool next to the bed.

“She didn’t want me to fight in the war while I see this as my duty. She’s always like that, telling me to do this, to do that. Can’t she just see that I want to choose my own path? I got mad at her, so we ended up fighting the day before I was deployed. I haven’t talk to her ever since… She must hate me.”

“I don’t think so.” Hange remarks. “The fact that she forbids you to go to the war really indicate how much she loves you. She doesn’t want to lose you, Daniel.”

“You think so?” There is a hopeful tone on his voice.

“Of course, there’s nothing that she wants other than to welcome you back.” Hange says as she wraps the new bandage on his arm. “I think you two misunderstood each other’s intention.”

“Really?”

Nanaba nods in agreement, “Yes. That’s why you have to stay healthy, Daniel. So, you can meet her again. Hopefully, you two can have heart to heart conversation.”

He smiles, “Right. I will do that.”

“In the meantime, why don’t you tell us about your mother? She seems to be an interesting lady.” Hange adds as she finishes bandaging his hand.

The young man’s face lightens up from the mention. He then spends the rest of the night talking to Hange and Nanaba about his mother.

•──────✦──────•

The American troops returns to the battle in the South of Ardennes after three weeks of retreating from the battle. Mr. Furlan is still too weak to join the battle, so he does not participate on the battle. During the time, Hange speaks to him a few of times. Through him, she learns that the name of the mysterious soldier. Levi Ackerman is his name.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Miss Nurse.” Mr. Furlan tells her when she comes to give his medicine. “But I just want to say that you are really pretty.”

Hange raises one of her brows and glances at him in confusion. She then let out a giggle. It is not uncommon for the nurses to receive compliment or even proposal during their service. Which is actually a sad thing, showing how lonely the soldiers are during the war.

“What do you want, Mr. Furlan?” Hange teases as she prepares to inject the needles.

“Nothing. I was just stating my observation.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Furlan. From my observation, you are a handsome man yourself.”

He hisses in pain as Hange gives him a compliment as well as the needle injection. “Uh, I never thought you would return it back.”

“That’s just how I was raised.” Hange smiles before giving him a tablet and a glass of water.

He laughs before swallowing his medicine. “Hey, do you have a boyfriend, Miss?”

Hange grins and folds her hands, “You are quite a talker, Mr. Furlan.”

He puts the glass away and raises both of his hands in surrender. “I’m asking for a friend, not for me.”

She narrows her eyes and mutter in playful tone, “A friend?”

“Yeah, for a friend. I think he is interested in you. But he’s a shy, quite hopeless to be honest. That’s why, as his best friend, I want to help him.”

She pauses before letting out a chuckle, “If that is true, then tell your friend to ask me directly, Mr. Furlan.” Hange answers as she walks away from him. In her head, she tries to think about which friend he is talking about. A figure appears on her head, but she quickly dismisses it. In the end, she concludes that Mr. Furlan was only teasing her out of boredom.

•──────✦──────•

After two months of battle, the American forces are finally able to push Germany from the South of Ardennes. The battle finishes just a week before Christmas. However, the Germany immediately plans for a counteroffensive in the dense forest of the Ardennes itself. The American decides to retreat again to the field hospital, to revise their plan and to let the soldiers receive treatment. They plan to return to the battlefield the day after Christmas.

During Christmas, both sides are having ceasefire. The troops hold a party for the soldiers, the medical practitioners, and for the supporting staff of the war. For a day, they are allowed to forget about the state of the world that they are currently living in. They sing carols, they pray together, and they dance around the fireplace.

As much as Hange wants to join the party, she volunteers to stay in the medical tent with other soldiers who cannot join the party due to their sickness and injury. She is not alone though, she is with Nanaba. They think that they ought to give the older nurses and doctors a chance to unwind themselves from their duty.

“Do you want to listen to a story, Miss Nanaba, Miss Hange?” A man with brown hair inquires as Nanaba apply a new compress to his forehead. Meanwhile, Hange is a few beds away from them, currently taking the sheet off the empty bed to put it on the basket.

“Is it a story about your wife and your daughter, Mr. John?” Nanaba replies with a playful tease.

The man shows his left hand, a golden wedding band can be seen circling around his ring finger. “Yes, look at this, isn’t this beautiful? Every time I see this ring, I remember my beloved. She is the most beautiful, kindest, and intelligent person I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, Mr. John. It’s beautiful.” Nanaba replies, genuinely. Hange shares the same sentiment. If she ends up with someone who loves her the same way Mr. John gushes over his wife, Hange would become the happiest person ever.

“Ah, wait until you meet my daughter.” He grabs something from under his pillow, it is a photo. He shows the photo to Nanaba. “Look at her, isn’t she precious? The last time I met her, she could barely stand on her own… I wonder how big she has gotten? I bet she has grown into a cheerful and energetic child. I’m sure she’s currently running around the house, tiring her mother to no end.”

Hange puts the sheet to the basket before approaching him and Nanaba. “We know, Mr. John. You miss them, right?”

The man let out a sad smile as he stares at the photo, “Yes. It’s been four years since the last time I spent Christmas with them…”

Hange shares a look of understanding with Nanaba. The blonde nurse gives a pill to the man, “Let’s wish that we are finally able to celebrate the next Christmas in the warmness of our homes.”

The man nods, his eyes bright with hopes. After taking his pill, it does not take him long to finally sleep. Nanaba tucks him into the blanket before helping Hange to take off the dirty sheets, blankets, and pillowcases.

However, suddenly, two men come into the tent. Hange recognizes them, they are Mr. Furlan and Mr. Ackerman. Hange and Nanaba ask them about their visit to the tent. Mr. Furlan informs them that a soldier was injured in the party, he broke his ankle.

“Well, I guess someone is getting a little too excited for the party.” Nanaba remarks, her voice latches in worry but also amusement.

“I know.” Mr. Furlan chuckles. “There are a bunch of nurses and doctors at the party, so we come here to ask for first aid bag.”

“Oh, it’s on the pharmacy tent. Let me get—” Hange’s speech is cut short by Nanaba.

“No, Hans. You stay here. If there’s an emergency, you are the best we got.”

Hange furrows her brows, “Huh? Alright.”

“Good idea!” Mr. Furlan exclaims before gesturing toward the other soldier. “I will go to the pharmacy with her while you stay here, just in case Miss Nurse needs your help.”

Neither Hange or Mr. Ackerman are able to reply or object, because both Mr. Furlan and Nanaba vanish in a blink of an eye. Hange glances toward him and as usual, he has that frown on his face. Suddenly, he looks at her and it catches her off guard. He seems to be surprised too, but he hides it quickly. “What can I do to help?”

“Ah—Uhm, you can help me to change the bedsheets.” Hange explains, gesturing toward the empty beds inside the tent.

He nods and walks toward a bed on the corner while Hange choose the bed across him. She keeps looking at him, not so subtly because he realizes it.

“What?” He asks when they both go toward the basket at the same time, putting the old bedsheet inside.

Hange smiles sheepishly, “Ah, I just realize. I never catch your name.” She says, which is obviously a lie.

He shrugs, “Well, I never throw it to you.”

She chuckles, it is probably not something he says to amuse her. It is probably not even that funny, but she still laughs anyway. There is just something about him that attract her right from the start.

“But I can throw it if you want.” He says with a little hint of humor that is hidden underneath his blank stare.

“I don’t want you to throw it.” She replies with a grin. “I want you to lay it to me gently.”

He raises one of his eyebrows before giving her a subtle smirk, “Levi Ackerman. Just call me Levi.”

“Hange Zoë, pleasure to meet you.” She nods at him, “I let the soldiers call me anything, but they mostly call me Miss Nurse.”

“That’s a bit of mouthful.”

“Well, what do you want to call me, then?”

He smirks at her before returning to another bed, “Enough chatting, there’s a lot of stinky bedsheets that we need to change, four-eyes.”

Hange raises her eyebrows, intrigued by the nickname that he gives her. She laughs and answers, “Yes, yes, Mr. Soldier.”

After taking off all the bedsheets, they replace it with a brand new one. At first, she thinks that he helps her out of politeness, but it seems he really enjoys the task. He makes sure that the surface of the sheets and pillowcases are smooth, he even folds the blankets very neatly. Hange smiles the whole time as she observes him and the subtle joy that appear on his expression.

“How long since they’d been gone?” Levi asks as he sits on the chair while Hange sits across the table, his hand holding a cup with steaming liquid inside.

“Too long.” Hange answers before she sips a cup of warm instant tea that she made.

He hums, taking the cup to his mouth. “Maybe your friend gets caught up in the party.”

“Maybe.” She giggles, putting the cup on the table. Hange scans his face and snickers, “Speaking of, I heard that you are the best soldier that we got in here.”

He scoffs at her remark, “Nonsense.”

“They say you are so strong, it almost like you are invincible in battle.”

He clicks his tongue, narrowing his eyes at her. “I never thought you like to gossip.”

“Well, sometimes I do.” Hange replies as she looks at his posture. This is her first time seeing him without his uniform. He still wears his uniform pants and shoes, but this time he wears a white shirt that shows his muscles. She returns her gaze to his cup as she tries to keep herself from smiling.

“You know, I’ve never seen you before.” Levi suddenly asks her. Hange is pleasantly surprised by his question, he never thinks that he is interested to get to know her.

She giggles, “Of course,this is my first time being a nurse in field hospital. Before this, I acted as a nurse aide for a year in the big hospital. However, as the war stretch all the way into years, the demand of medic in the front lines are high as ever. That’s why I began my work here last October.”

“I see.” He acknowledges. “That explains why you look so young.”

Hange tilts her head in amusement, “You speak like you are an old man.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I don’t believe it. How old are you?”

Levi looks at her for a few seconds before glancing away. “Today I turn 26.”

Hange blinks as she stares at him. Suddenly, her eyes widen when she understands the implication. “OH MY GOD!”

“Hey, quiet!” Levi reprimands as he looks at the surrounding. Fortunately, the patients are still sleeping soundly on their bed.

“Oh my God.” Hange repeats with reduces volume, smiling joyfully at him. “Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Levi!”

“Thanks.” He murmurs before sipping his tea again.

They sit together in silence as they wait for their respective friends to return from whatever journey they are having. But then, as the night goes even more late, Hange feels herself to be in a talkative mood. Thus, she decides to break their silence by asking the question that she has been wanting to ask. “What do you think about the war?”

He does not immediately answer nor even spare her a glance. However, he looks like he is in a deep thought. Hange realizes that they are not that close for her to ask such question.

“You don’t have to answer it—”

“It’s a lot of things, you can ask one soldier to another, and they would probably give you different answers.”

“…Well, how about you, then?” She speaks her words slowly and softly.

He let out a sigh. “It feels like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from. It went on and on, constantly. In the end, you have no fucking idea which one is a reality, and which one is a dream.”

She notices the veins that appear on his temple, and she also notices how he grips his cup tighter. “I’m sorry. That must be hard and confusing for you.” Hange utters gently and carefully.

“Yeah, it’s very shitty.” He adds as he looks at her. “It changes people too, you know. Not only the soldiers.”

She nods weakly, “Yeah. This is a world war. I’m sure that by the end of this, the world will change too.”

“True… and I don’t think I want to change.” He remarks. “That’s why sometimes I wonder if it would be better for me to just run toward the bullets.”

Hange’s body freezes as she holds her breath, “What—”

“It’s a joke.” He immediately reiterates, his lips grinning as if he is emphasizing his words.

Hange narrows her eyes at him, not in every ounce believing his words. She bites her bottom lips before asking, “Don’t you have someone waiting for you back home?”

“No.”

Hange’s heart sinks when she heard that. Then, without even thinking about what she is about to say. With a clear voice she declares, “Well, you have it now.”

He stares at her with uncertainty, “Huh?”

She returns his intense stare with a softer and gentler one, “You heard me.”

There are a lot of emotions passing through his face. His eyes widen at her, while his mouth left slightly agape. He seems like he wants to reply, but no voice is heard.

“That’s why you have to promise me that you will survive.” She smiles at him. “Because I’ll be waiting here for you.”

It takes her a few more minutes to realizes what she was implying. A heat crawling onto her cheeks, she tries to open her mouth to save them from the impending awkwardness.

“Sorry we took so long.” A cheery deep voice comes into the tent, it is Nanaba’s voice. “Ah, Mr. Ackerman. Your friend said that if you need him, you can meet him at the party.”

Levi leaves his seat walks toward Nanaba. “I see, thank you for the information.”

“No, I should be the one who thank you for helping, right Hange?”

Hange immediately stands up from his seat, “Yes… thank you, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She hears the hoarseness of his voice, but she does not have the courage to take a look at his face. Even when he bids his farewell to them, she still chooses to keep her head low, purposely avoiding his face.

However, that does not mean she did not wonder about what expression that he made when she told him that.

—Chapter I End—

[frogtanii]

falling for you ✨

request: @lil-mellow-bunbun

pairs: tanaka x reader

warnings: slight slight angst??, fluff, maybe a lil ooc

an: bruh this took SO LONG, also i am so so sorry if this is bad ily i hope this is fine 🙈

——————————————————————————

tanaka is easily enamored. that isn’t to say that he doesn’t have taste because we all know that just isn’t the case, (i mean, have you seen kiyoko?) but he often finds himself longing after a beautiful girl that he spots for just a moment, maybe leaving the train or shopping in the grocery store.

he knows these infatuations are temporary. he’s used to the pang in his chest when it sinks in that he’ll never see those girls again and the pain grows even worse when he realizes he probably wouldn’t even get a second glance if he’d actually approached them.

so tanaka hides. he watches from afar, waiting for the oh so familiar anguish to attack his heart once he sees the next woman run headfirst into the arms of another. he hides behind his loud and brash personality because he knows if he lets down his walls, he’ll just be hurt again.

it isn’t all bad, he reasons with himself. he has nishinoya and the volleyball team and the lovely kiyoko that he’s sure will return his affections one day, if he just tries hard enough. he has the thrill of the sport he loves, people he cares about and who care about him. i’m okay, he tells himself again and again, when he finds himself falling for women who will never even know his name.

the cycle is all so normal for him that when he spots you at the tokyo training camp, laughing with kuroo and somehow getting kenma to smile, he’s expecting it. what he’s not expecting, however, is the sheer intensity of his emotions towards you.

the first time you approach him, he nearly chokes on his tongue. you were helping the other managers clean up the gym after a grueling practice match between nekoma and karasuno when you notice a stray water bottle near the corner. you jog towards it, recognizing that all of your team had theirs which meant that it must be a crow’s. picking it up, you scan the gym, searching for someone who wasn’t drinking anything. that’s when you spot him.

you don’t consider yourself someone to get easily flustered so when you lock eyes with the the tall, muscular teen and heat fills your cheeks, you’re almost astonished at yourself. get it together!! you mumble as you head over to the group of boys seated across the gym from you. they shouldn’t be this intimidating, you think as your sneakers squeak to a stop just a foot away from tanaka.

“hi! i found this bottle in the corner and i noticed you didn’t have one. is it by any chance yours?” you give tanaka a warm smile and he swears that you’re an angel right from heaven. when he opens his mouth to respond with a suave and sexy quip, nothing comes out but a mouthful of gargling noises. his lips clamp shut as a blush overtakes his entire face and you can’t help but giggle at his adorable demeanor. you place the bottle by his foot and pat his shoulder as you stand. “take a drink! maybe it’ll help.” when you wink at him, he immediately feels his soul leave his body. as you walk away, yamamoto appears beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and laughing loudly. tanaka finds it in himself to feel disappointed through the haze of embarrassment, when his ears pick up something very interesting.

“- little sis!” the rest was muffled by the rushing of blood in his head but that piece of information brightened his whole day. he still had a chance with you! or so he hoped but he wouldn’t give up! he would get you to talk to him again (and hopefully he’d respond back this time).

he took his second chance at dinner. you, of course, sat at the nekoma table in between your brother and kenma, occasionally giving him some gaming advice or making a well placed joke in the conversation going on before you. after a while, your thoughts began to drift as your eyes wandered the cafeteria. they flitted from person to person until they landed on him. you couldn’t help your immediate reaction which was to gasp and cover your cheeks which were swiftly heating up. you were only human and he was a fine specimen.

once you gather up the courage, you glance back at him, only to pause when you see him staring right back at you. a blush was fast to overtake his cheeks as he gave you a sheepish smile and a little wave. you grin back and waggle your fingers, just to embarrass him a little further. this definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of his table which immediately bursts into laughter and teasing. when you catch his gaze again, you flash him an apologetic smile before continuing your conversation at your table. his lips curl up as he looks down at the table, basking in your unexplainable light, only to be snapped out of his thoughts when he hears nishinoya make a lewd comment about your chest size. that’s quickly put to an end with a swift chop to the back of his head.

after dinner ends, tanaka is determined to find you, to hold a conversation with you but you’re nowhere to be found. he ends his discussion with noya and bursts out of the dining hall, his shaved head darting from side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of where you disappeared to. he waits outside that dining hall for at least another five minutes before resigning to the fact that you probably had already gone to bed, giving him no chance to speak with you again.

tanaka decides to head off to bed as well, passing an open gym on his way there. a tinkling laugh drifts out the open doorway and it stops him completely in his tracks. hesitantly, he follows the voice, gently pushing the door open and what he sees punches the air from his lungs.

you look ethereal, covered in a faint sheen of sweat from your activities and laughing with a gorgeous smile on your face. tanaka physically can’t look away from your beauty, your presence before him stunning him to the point of silence. his eyes track your movements as you move back to one side of the net, squatting down with a look of determination written all over your face. a quick look to the other side of the net reveals akaashi and bokuto getting ready to spike for you.

tanaka can’t tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. he’s never seen you play but he has seen bokuto’s powerful spikes so he can’t help but worry for you. he doesn’t have much time to worry though because before he knows it, akaashi is setting the ball and bokuto is slamming it down hard on the other side of the net. time seems to move in slow motion as you move and- you receive it. you actually receive bokuto’s spike! tanaka’s heart swells at your cheers of excitement. as you hug your partners, he turns away, happy to see this part of you but mildly upset you didn’t ask him to spike for you. he begins walking back down the sidewalk when he hears steps running towards him.

tanaka turns towards the noise to see you, panting and out of breath right behind him. his throat seizes up again and he feels faint when your hand shoots out to grab his arm, your warm hands burning against his skin. “uhh...” this was one of the few times tanaka felt absolutely speechless under your unintentionally intense gaze.

“oh my gosh, i’m sorry!” you quickly snatch your hand from his arm and give him a sheepish smile. “i just noticed you from the door and i wanted to come say hi! you’re yamamoto’s friend, tanaka, right?” all he can do is nod as you grab his hand and pull him to start walking beside you. “sooo, you’re really good at volleyball! i saw you spiking in the game versus nekoma and it was crazy strong!” his face fills with red as he turned towards you and bowed deeply.

“thank you taketora-san!” you can’t help but giggle and help him stand to his full height once more. “no need, tanaka-kun! though, i wonder why you aren’t as loud with me as you are with your teammates and everyone else..” these words cause tanaka to freeze up. did you know how he felt about you? you continue to speak, unaware of tanaka’s inner thoughts. “i’d really like to hang out with you if you’re okay with that!” tanaka nods aggressively, knowing that now he has his chance to make his move on you (with your consent of course)!

you finally make it to the manager’s rooms, stopping in front of tanaka with a shy smile on your face. “thank you for walking with me tanaka-kun. i appreciate it,” you lean up and place a gentle kiss on his cheek before turning back into the room. tanaka was vibrating with excitement, unaware that he barely spoke a word to you instead racing off to his room to brag to nishinoya about how he got a kiss before him.

finally, it was the day of the barbecue. all the managers were passing out watermelon as the boys took their well-deserved rest on the lawn while awaiting the delicious meat. as you grabbed another tray of fruit from yachi and begun to pass it out, you couldn’t help but notice all the leering eyes on you as you bent down to pick up an empty rind. you know that they’re just “boys being boys” but you were starting to get uncomfortable, the whispers becoming loud enough to reach your ears.

“damn, look at nekoma’s manager. who knew she’d be so cute!” “yeah, i thought karasuno had the cutest managers but i guess we were wrong.” you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, one of your hands shooting down to pull your shirt over your butt. you were just about to excuse yourself to go hide in the bathroom when a loud booming voice interrupts your escape.

“oi! keep your pervy eyes off of nekoma’s manager!” you swiftly turn at the sound of tanaka’s voice to see him, nishinoya, and yamamoto standing in front of you, blocking the view from the creeps. you can’t help your heart beating out of your chest at the sweet gesture so you place the tray of fruit down and barrel into the boys, wrapping your arms around tanaka’s waist in particular. you can feel him tense up in your arms but you can’t see his fearful glances that he gives to your brother. yamamoto just laughs and claps a large hand on his shoulder.

“you can take her out dude! i totally respect you and i know you’ll take good care of her!” at that, your brother bows deeply followed by tanaka’s own deep bow. you roll your eyes and take tanaka’s hand, pulling him close to you and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear, “i can’t wait to go on a date with you..” with that, you turn and walk away to join your fellow managers, not surprised to hear nishinoya’s clear yell, “dude!! i want to date a hot manager!!”

tanaka can’t help but grin, finally feeling full.

[quillandink333]

Bereavement ~ Part I

BotW Link X Zelda

Rating: M

Word Count: 1k

WARNINGS: graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, major character death

Summary: In the wake of the Great Calamity, Link mourns the sudden loss of his beloved princess, who never succeeded in unlocking the sacred power to seal Ganon away.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Masterlist

The autonomous monster before me buckled under its own weight, a cloud of scarlet smoke billowing up from its corpse as the light flickered and faded from its solitary eye. My head was spinning, my lungs voraciously gulping in air at a dizzying rate. My undershirt clung to the sweat on my back, and I ached everywhere. But these were the least of my worries. Sword in hand, I turned and raced to my princess’ side, who’d been left to lie in a lake of her own blood all this time.

”L...ink...?” she spluttered before her body was wracked by a gruesome coughing fit.

“Highness...” I fell to my knees, avoiding her wounded side and being as gentle as I possibly could as I propped her up on my lap. “Oh, Goddess...” The sight was nauseating. Her pure, white dress was now in rags and completely soaked in crimson, barely clinging onto her crippled, mutilated form. “I’m so sorry.”

“It h—” Her chest convulsed. Another sickening wave swallowed her up as she continued to drown bit by bit. “It...hurts...” she finally got out, “s-so much...”

I felt her pain as if it were my own; bleak, heavy, and all-encompassing. “I know,” I uttered, watching helplessly as her body spasmed in self-destruction.

Even as her faithful protector, I had failed to spot the enemy on high preparing to fire. And now, even after fending off wave after wave of foes with nothing but the sword and the strength of my own body, there was nothing I could do to save her. And I knew it was only a matter of time until another one of those things spotted us. I wanted to stand up and curse myself until I went blue in the face, but I held it in. I had to stay strong.

“I’m s...sorry...” she sobbed, rivers of grief and misery pouring down her precious face.

“No, no, please don’t apologize,” I hushed, cradling her delicate cheek in my palm. I scoured my mind for something to say, anything that might put her at ease, but there weren’t many options. “I love you,” I eventually offered, hoping that these few words of affection might suffice.

“I l-love you...too...” she choked out.

Her eyes began to close. Even though I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it, I panicked. Time was taking her away so fast. Her relentless hacking had died down a bit, so I leaned in closer.

“W-wait, don’t...” I froze. Her fingertips brushed my tunic as she struggled desperately to lift them in protest. “Th...there’s...blood—”

I closed my fingers around hers and brought her hand close to my bruised cheek, nearly biting a hole in my lip trying not to cry. I shook my head dismissively. Then finally I closed the gap between us and kissed her quivering lips.

I had to block out the invasive taste of iron that assaulted my tongue as we merged into one for what would be the last time. I knew what this gesture represented for the both of us: a farewell. So I kissed her as slowly and as deeply and as softly as I ever had, and yet, it wasn’t enough. If I’d only known that it would all come to such an abrupt end, that she’d be so violently torn away from me without a shred of mercy, I would’ve spent double the time I normally had training and preparing. This was all because of my own failures and shortcomings. I was so pathetic, I couldn’t even stop my tears from falling any longer. They landed harshly on the surface of her already tear-sodden face.

I couldn’t bring myself to part from her for the longest time, until the moment I realized her lips had fallen still against my own. My heart stopped. “Zelda...?” I worried.

She gave a croaked murmur just loud enough to let me know she was still with me. Her breathing had become so slow and shallow that it was close to undetectable, but she no longer looked at me with a sorrowful grimace. Instead, a faint smile graced her features, her eyes filled with blissful contentment as she gazed up at me.

Memories flashed before my eyes. Memories of happy times and memories of sad times. In each one, without exception, I was always there by her side, and she there at mine. I recalled the first time she’d uttered the words, “I love you,” as well as the many times after, all with that heavenly smile that I treasured so dearly. I recalled the day I’d pledged my soul to her, promising to keep her safe from harm no matter the cost. And yet...

“Link...”

The sound of her voice jerked me back to reality. She was paler than ever now, and hardly moving, lying almost completely limp in my arms. I had to strain my ears in order to hear her, her tone barely above a whisper amidst the chaos of the roaring flames and clanking metal in the background. “It’s okay. I’m here,” I encouraged. “What is it?”

“Y...you...” she began, each breath shallow and unstable, “make me...so...happy...” At those broken words, I felt my own breath hitch. “I’m...so g...glad I...met...you...”

I waited patiently for her to continue, everything without our immediate surroundings virtually having disappeared from existence.

But she didn’t say another word.

“Zelda...” I whimpered weakly. When she didn’t respond, I could clearly feel my own heart being pierced and shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Her eyes had closed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest having dwindled to a conclusive halt. “Princess...” My tone tightened as uncontrollable sobs began to take hold of me. I grazed my thumb softly against her still warm cheek. “Please...come back.” My tears once again landed on my silent princess’ face, now withered and completely devoid of life. “Come back...”

I was still bent over my beloved, trapped in the deepest pits of despair with no one to guide me out, when I began to hear a voice ringing in my ears.

It was strange, embodying an almost metallic quality, unlike any voice I’d ever heard before. It was too warped for me to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman or neither, but whoever it was seemed to be sealed inside the sword lying at my side. “Forgive me, Master,” the voice spoke, “but now is not the time to grieve.”

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

[dabis-devil]

Could you pretty please do Shinso, Dabi, Overhaul, Kirishima, Shiggy, Bakugo and Tamaki with an S/O with is a ballet dancer and looks fragile but can actually kick ass? Sorry for the long ask but I just really adore you’re stuff!!!!!

Pretty Poison

Aw, thank you anon! Okay, I'd just like to apologize for holding off on my asks. I've seen busy and not feeling well lately, but I'm getting to my requests now! Love you all 🖤

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou is an observational guy

He figured you weren't as innocent as you looked before you proved him right

All of which he figured out with distance.

When set to spar together, he was avoiding all of your agile moves, each one of your attacks

You were pressed to do give it your 100%

With a swing, you attempted to go for his neck with your fist, the purple haired man catching your fist.

He tried to get a blow at your torso, you swatted his fist.

when you tried a strike with the other, he caught that one too.

His leg scooped in the back of your knees, the two of you toppling to the ground.

Toshi is a good boi, he made sure you wouldn't get hurt before he went through with such a calculated move

“ oh kitten- ” he chuckled, tired eyes lock in onto your own. “ nobody expects this of you. . Only fools will underestimate you. ” his tone was eerie

You used your propped up knee to push yourself over. Turning the tables, Toshi on bottom now. “ nice to know. ” you mumbled with a savage smile.

Next thing you know you were helping each other up and leaving the training grounds.

Its when you and Shinsou went on your first date that he learned you were a dancer.

He didn't seem too phased honestly, but he thought it was cool!

“ Can I go to your next recital? ” he asked, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

You said yes

Before the start of the recital, your eyes wandered endlessly around the stadium.

' where is he? ' your lips curling into a frown.

Maybe he decided he didn't care?

Little did you know, he was in the front row. Just dressed in a suit. . Classy Shinsou is rare

When you leaped across the stage, his large purple orbs followed your angelic form like a puppy eyeing a treat.

He isn't one to pump you up with compliments, but when you finally realized he was staring with a strong force of admiration, that said all.

He would stand and applaud afterward, meeting you in the back room for a bland congratulations and soft hug.

He'll be at every single recital

Every. One.

Dabi

Your innocence was cute, don't get him wrong

But his goal was to corrupt you.

He would place wondering hands on your body, expecting you to become a shell of a human and color to drain from your face

Instead your expression turned playful as you prompted him

Sinful things probably followed

And that's how he learned you werent fragile

With that in mind, this man had nO control

You already know a relationship with him entails dirtiness to keep it sPiCy

And I kid you not, your gracefulness drives him over the edge

Your movement was so controlled it's just- *chefs kiss*

The part of the town the compound was in definitely wasn't a good part of town

So you got harrased :((

“ hey pretty lady, ” a drunk man cooed, his large and sweaty hands running down your arm. “ come with me to the back. . ” he smiled and roughly tugged at your arm.

You could have easily shown this man a piece of your mind. The ghastly shrieks that filled the air stopped you though.

Dabi melted his face off, then left with you like nothing happened.

This why people don't mess with you anymore

Again, this is what makes the two of you a good team. He has your back, you have his, but you can both take care of yourselves.

He didn't really care to know you danced

It's just a hobby, when should he care? Do what you want.

If you dragged him off to recitals or anything don't be surprised if you see him playing on his phone or otherwise not paying attention.

Gives 0 fucks.

If for any reason he is watching

Probably because he think you look sexy.

Maybe it's the outfit, maybe it the way your body flows, who knows?

If you come to him bothered that he doesn't like your dancing, he will either

reassure you that he thinks you look incredibly sexy when you dance, and try to pay a little more attention to your routines

No promises^

Or

Brush off your feelings and move on

Really isn't his cup of tea but A for effort

Bonus: he's asked you to dance on/for him

You're a dancer, of course you know how to lap dance. Of CoUrSe.

Idiot

“ doll, why don't you come show me some of those moves? ” he asks cheekily, already leading you back to the bedroom.

You still did. And you did well. So that's a win on his part-

Overhaul

Kai could appreciate your dancing, there was some sort of elegance in it.

The way your body moved from one figure to another just had his eyes drawn to you like magnets.

The fact that he kidnapped you for entertainment was besides the point

Well initially

You were given the option to leave, but you didn't.

Same offer does NOT apply now that you made your choice

The reason you were taken is for your doe eyes and soulful smile

You put up a damn good fight

But in the end you were being jumped by a few gang members.

Not to mention your escape attempts?

So thought out, and you came this close to busting out of the secret door each time.

Kai’s eyes burned holes hrough your skull when you were restrained to your bed.

“ love, why would you try to leave me? You know bad things could happen. . ” his tone sent goosebumps down your back

He's just possessive

Other than that, you can pretty much do what you want

So long as you stay in base

He turned a room into a dance studio for you

That's just how he shows affection.

he wants to sit and watch you dance until your knees buckle.

You bet your ass he will too.

“ where are you going? ” his eye brows knitted. “ I'm not done watching. ” he growled lowly, as you returned to your craft with a pout.

But that's fine,,,,

Even though he's not a huge fan of touching you

He gives the best massages.

(I'm actually so so sorry for this one, I haven't written Kai and oh my gOd I need to fix this characterization)

Eijiro Kirishima

This beautiful rock man

He thinks you are so adorable.

Literally precious okay, even before romantic ties developed

But when you become a badass out of nowhere, he's kinda stunned

You turned to Mineta and told him off for objectifying you, finishing that confrontation with a kick right to his crotch.

The grape boy wheezed and began to cry, but you walked off unbothered.

Of course Kiri, who had been on his way to save you from his perverted classmate, was like- “ huh?? ”

You being anything but reserved was a new emotion.

He didn't mind of course, he was excited to learn more about you.

And when he learns you're a dancer?

Oh boy.

Eiji supports you. Without a question!

And that's on being manly.

He shows up with roses to every single recital you have, dressed in fine attire, and will be the loudest person in the crowd.

“ WOoOOo!! YOU DID AMAZING Y/N! I LOVE YOUU!! ” He shouted from the top of his lungs.

Actually the first time he said I love you

Lowkey has good moves himself

You'll see that when he's dancing around the dorms to some cheesy music denki or Mina played

If you need help with a move he will put sweat, blood, and tears into perfecting it with you.

He literally won't shut up about you

When he's with his friends?

“ she's so beautiful! You should see her dance too! ” he gushed

Family?

“ y/n is so amazing. . (More babbles about you) ”

A wall?

“ I love y/n so much- ”

Just love him back okay

Tomura Shigaraki

This crusty man has his head in the game and all, but he totally swept you to the side.

He wants things to be blunt and direct

So when you were over there looking like a pure angel he just thought you were

As apart of the liberation front, he expected you to be there for covert missions, and not throw yourself into battle

But when you were over here taking out three heroes simultaneously??

It dawned on him that you were so much more useful.

It had been a late night and Shigs couldn't sleep, so he planned to hang out with you.

Your light shone under the crack of your door, prompting him to ask for your company

He placed a soft knock on your door to which there was no reply.

Instead, the melody of soft classical tunes drifted to his ears. The door creaked open, allowing the blue haired man a peak of insight as to what you were doing.

He saw your figure parading around the room in small leaps, harmonious twirls, and gentle hand movements.

His crimson eyes widened at what he saw. Not only did he realize how beautiful you are, but you were so soothing to watch?

For a little while he will beat around the bush

“ y/n, what were you up to last night? ” he asked, sounding as innocent as a mere child. “ hmm? ” his hands weaved together under his chin, leg swing in under his barstool.

Like when you already know something but you ask somebody anyways just to see what they would say yknow

He would make this one of his favorite things to do, watch you dance.

Over time you caught him staring through your door, and you weren't exactly happy about it

“ tomura! ” you squeaked, catching a glimpse of his florescent red orbs.

You raced over to the door, pausing your music with a fast tap to the pad of your phone.

“ why were you watching me? ” you frowned at your boyfriend, your shoulders building tense.

“ y/n. . ” he mumbled, hand searching for his agitated neck. “ I just couldn't look away. ”

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo did not underestimate your abilities. Ever.

From his experiences, he knows not to judge a person's abilities until you get a taste of what they can do.

He tried so hard to manipulate you into using your quirk, or just not being the peaceful person you came off as.

He faaaaailed

When you got to knew him better, you didn't hesitate to mop the floor with him.

He's impressed by your effort, so points there

He definitely liked your soft persona, on the contrary to his.

He won't tell you that though.

The closer you two got, the more he would step in to defend you and stick by your side.

The one time you snapped on somebody, he was left shaking in his boots.

He hasn't seen you behave like that. . He liked it 😏

Now don't get me wrong-

Baku didn't care for your dancing.

He didn't give a single fuck, okay

But whenever he actually saw your graceful dances on stage???

Consider him your biggest fan

But you wouldn't ever find that out. At least he thoughts so.

“ I have another recital tonig- ” you were cut off by an irritated Baku.

“ if you want me to go, just ask, dumbass! Stop whining. ” he snapped, leaving you blinking and dumbstruck

go off lord explosion murder-

He's in the front row just sitting there like

W O W

You already know he'll praise you for your preformance, whether those compliment were backhanded or of pure intent.

And if anybody dare thinks about down talking your dancing? They will be ripped. ..He would tear them apart with him bare hands. no cap.

If you absolutely amaze him, you will get the one in a lifetime chance to watch him stand up and scream your name with a proud grin, something along the lines of-

“ LOOK AT Y/N! (pronoun)'S DOING FUCKING AMAZING, JUST FUCKING LOOK AT MY BABY- ” his hand directed towards you, and you couldn't help but burn a shade of deep rose.

Tamaki Amajiki

Before you two were in a relationship, you had him fooled.

Like Tamaki, you look like a cinnamon roll, but can murder somebody.

You are commonly underestimated, which gives you the upper hand. A lot.

Tamaki taught you how to use that

Training with him was just so sweet.

He'd be scared to hurt you though

Let's add to the fact that since you like like an easy target, you would probably get messed with.

He would be the first to step in and protect you

Despite the fact his hands are shaking, and he stutters a mess.

“ my suneater. . My hero. ” you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Here lies Tamaki Amajiki, Rest In Peace

Don't even get me started on your dancing.

He loves it! Absolutely melts his heart.

When he watches you at recitals, rehearsals, maybe even in the dorms, he feels the depth of your movement.

He becomes a flustered mess in the distance,,,,

“ I can't believe thats my bunny, she's doing so well! ” he quietly cooed from the audience.

He will not miss any of your recitals. Unless it's an emergency.

Even then, get prepared for massive cuddles when he gets back.

He'll feel guilty about not being there, he's more upset than you are.

“ Tama it's fine- ” you chuckled softly, cradling your boyfriend in a hug.

“ are you sure bunny? I'm sure you did amazing, and I missed it! ” he whined, fighting the urge to plant his face onto a wall and never look back.

Other than tons of extra love after a missed performance, he will without a doubt dress fancy and bring you a bouquet and some little gifts.

100/10 will pepper you with compliments

Honestly he's an angel

[ziracona]

-----The Kid (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ?)

I don’t remember much. There are jumbled sounds and fragmented images, but I’m not sure if they’re my memories from tonight, or before.

Where am I?

Where am I…

I…

Somewhere…different. Not the workshop I’ve been in. The room is a different color. I’m seeing hazy ceiling through the darkness and a fan up above when I open my eyes. I don’t remember where I’d be, or why it’s different. My head hurts, my arms hurt, my chest is on fire. I’m still dying. Shit. Why did they move me?

There’s someone there, above me—a fuzzy outline. A girl, I think. It’s dark. She sees me looking up at her and pauses. Shit—there’s something in her hand. I remember now; I remember contracting with her. I remember her promising to help me. So why is she bent over my chest with what looks like a long, thin knife? Why is the pain I’m in worse than it’s ever been?

I’m looking at her in search of answers, adrenaline not quite kicked in yet, but about to, when she looks down at me and says, “Don’t move.”

I feel it almost before I hear it. There’s a flash of energy by her hand and the command seal slams into me and I can’t move. I choke on a pained cry as the curse travels through me and freezes me in place. I can feel the mana locked onto my core, like I’ve been frozen solid, turned to stone. It’s agonizing. I can’t even move my head; I can’t shut my eyes; I can’t look away. I can barely breathe.

She’s gonna kill me. I thought this would happen. I thought there must be somethin’ even worse than what they’d already done. Why else send her? Why else get me to agree to anything at all? I had to be betrayed. They’ve been recreating how I died for months now, and that was the only element they couldn’t get. How could I have been this stupid again. I knew the risk. I still don’t know what they’re going to do to me, but I knew the conditions they might be looking for, and still; still. I just looked at a face I couldn’t see, and thought ‘I am who I am,’ and I didn’t shoot. Again.

Again…

I’m scared. I’m terrified. I haven’t been terrified in a long time. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I see Pat, stooping to say, “You did this to yourself,” to me, to make those the last words I hear before I die. I feel it. I feel my heart stopping. I see faint New Mexico moonlight. I smell so much blood. I don’t see my mother waiting for me. I never got to see any of them again. I never got to see anyone again. He was right; I did it to myself, and the Throne took me. I didn’t get an afterlife.

I’m so afraid whatever is happening to me is going to somehow be worse. I don’t know why, but it’s like I’m there again. They say you see your life flash before your eyes. I didn’t. I saw things I never got to make it to crumble away, and there was just…nothing waiting. Nothing at all. It was like watching your soul disintegrate to nothing. Ending. Thread cut. I’d always been promised there was something; I thought there would be. I know now there is for almost everyone. Just not for me.

I don’t want to know what could be worse than that.

I can feel my heart pumping once every six seconds, my core fading, the pathetic trickle of mana I’m getting from the girl that’s keeping me alive. I can feel the blood pumping up from my heart and over my chest with every feeble beat. I can’t look. I can’t move. I can’t speak. All I can do is stare at the girl and wait.

She stares back, and I see horror and shock flood her features in the dim light.

Why?

“No! No—I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, starting to cry, “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to—I-I don’t know how to use the spells—I didn’t think they’d just happen. I didn’t mean to do that!”

I can’t process that.

She stops whatever she was doing to my chest, and reaches out her left hand shakily and cups my face. I can’t move.

“I-I’m sorry,” she pleads. Her hand is shaking. She’s still crying. She’s scared too, I realize, watching her, confused. My hair’s matted to my head with sweat, and she tries to brush some of it back. It takes me a second to realize that she’s trying to comfort me. I don’t know how to feel, genuinely. I don’t at all. This is…foreign.

But. There’s a faint memory there. Bein seventeen, starved and dehydrated. Dropping near dead on a doorway of a friend’s mom. I hoped she’d help me. I didn’t know. She did. First time since I was fourteen I’d felt like that at all. I don’t think it’s ever happened to me as a spirit.

This girl is young. Maybe about that old herself—can’t possibly be older than eighteen. She’s a kid.

I must have been crying too. Not sure which emotion was strong enough for that—I don’t think it was fear. I think it was shame, having made the same mistake. I think it was feeling betrayed by myself even. I don’t know. But I must’ve, because the girl wipes tears off me with a trembling thumb.

“I-I’m sorry,” she chokes out. She’s struggling to stop crying too, but not quite made it. I’m realizing slowly she was crying because she felt bad. It’s such an oddly endearing thing to picture a mage of any kind crying over. I wish being in agonizing pain didn’t make that so hard to think about. “I really didn’t. I promise. I’m not trying to hurt you—I—I’m not a very good mage,” she explains, tripping over herself with a voice still strained and breaking every few words, “I haven’t had much training—I can’t heal you, l-like I should. I don’t know how.” She starts to cry again in earnest. Starts sobbing on my chest. I want to smile now, I’m so overcome with relief and somethin else, but I still can’t move at all. “I tried! I tried to look it up—I tried to heal you! I can’t! So I—h-have to get the bullet out.” She has to take a second to keep talking at all. I’m getting soaked with tears now. This poor kid is going to dehydrate herself if she goes on like this. “Or you’ll die. But I can’t use magic, so I have to dig it out,” she sobs, face a ridiculous, miserable mess of snot and tears and nothing but earnest agony of her own, “I’m sorry—I know it hurts. I only wanted you to hold still so I wouldn’t mess up and hurt you with the pliers—I didn’t mean to use a seal on you.”

I wish I could nod, or something, but I can’t. The command seal is still digging into every cell in my vessel, and I might as well be a block of wood. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m…relieved. Shit. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m relieved enough to cry, and my body would like to, but I know she’s going to take that the wrong way if I do, so I fight it back.

Command seals are the worst. I’ve always hated the things. Usually people use ‘em on me because we’re not getting’ along too well, and they either want me to kill someone I don’t want to shoot, or they want me to put my gun to my chest and kill myself. You can resist them a little—I know, because I’ve tried. A lot of times. Depends on the power of the spell, and the spirit, and it depends on your motivation too. Some are easier than others. No one can resist one for long, though. Learned that the hard way too. Got too many memories of someone else making my body move and do something that haunts me.

I try to resist a spell again, now, but not for myself. I think this might be the first time it hasn’t been because I wanted to resist the spell. I can tell now I don’t really need to, probably. But I feel bad for this gal. Digging in with every bit of magic resistance I ever had, I meet her eyes and manage the faintest hint of a smile for just a second, before letting the paralysis take me again.

She stares at me, shocked, then relieved, and starts to cry again, and it’s funny to me. Guess we both want to cry over relief. That’s a couple things in common now.

“Thanks,” she manages, trying to smile back. She strokes back sweat-logged hair from my forehead again in one last little gesture of goodwill, then picks up her pliers, and returns to her task.

Honestly, it’s hard not to let some of the fear back. Dying how I did leaves a guy with a little bit of paranoia in his head. It could be an act. But I know there’d be no point in that, and I don’t honestly believe it was. I just hate being paralyzed. Even stuck with someone I could almost begin to feel something a little like trust towards. God, I never learn. I know nothin about this girl at all. Trust is a lot to put in a mage. I guess I do never learn, but it makes me happy, like that’s a victory. I guess in a way it is. I s’pose it’s okay to be proud of that. Don’t have a lot to my name; might as well keep my disposition.

Got no idea how long being stuck like this’ll last, but it has to wear off in a little while. I believe her about what she’s doing, but that doesn’t make it hurt less to have a piece of metal digging around in my chest. I should try and sleep. It’ll conserve what energy I got left, and I won’t have to be awake for this.

I go with that, once the command spell wears off enough to let me shut my eyes. It’s not until I’m about out that I remember I’ve seen her before. Remember one day a while back, when a kid saw me for a second through an open door, and looked horrified, and I thought it was novel to be looked at with pity again after so long.

Guess it was something a little more than novel.

I think I smile. Can’t believe something good came my way. Usually all I’m a magnet for is misfortune and trouble, and I gotta make whatever luck I want to get.

But I’m passin out from the pain in my chest again, and I’m not sure she’s gonna get that bullet out in time for my core to keep from disolvin, but there’s not nothin looking back at me this time.

It feels good. Like I thought it would. I’m not scared. I think it would be okay if I die like this.

There’s not nothin.