#like it only bothers me when it's obvious like Oh I didn't put that dish there I put it somewhere else Well buddy ur the only other person

[no6secretsanta]

From: @happylikehappy

To: @sillydragpoes

Happy New Years!

Sorry for the late and short present but I hope you still like it. You wanted some fluffy slice of life and I was happy to deliver.

———

Shion watched Nezumi put his hair into its usual ponytail. He noted how it had become a little longer than when they had started living together in their small apartment. 

"What is it?" Nezumi asked, bringing the other back to reality, "You're staring pretty hard at me. It's creeping me out."

Shion blinked once but kept his gaze on the handsome man. 

"Your hair is rather long."

"Heh." 

At that Nezumi took a loose strand of his hair and twirled it around his finger. He usually kept a little part out of the ponytail. 

"I guess it is. Does it bother you that much?"

For some reason that thought made Nezumi snicker. 

Shion on the other hand shook his head. 

"No. I like it that way."

He reached his hand out to touch Nezumi's hair but got his wrist grabbed instead. 

They looked into each other's eyes for a while, grey daggers boring into ruby reds, before Nezumi let go of Shion. 

"How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?"

He clicked his tongue.

"It's for your own safety."

"Sorry." 

This time Shion apologised for his behaviour. 

"It's just... Your hair looks like silk." 

Nezumi stared at the other until letting out a snicker. 

"Why thank you for that oh so original compliment."

His remark made the other frown. 

"You're teasing me again, aren't you?" 

"Where would you get that idea, your majesty?" 

He couldn't help but laugh when Shion rolled his eyes and turned away with a sigh. 

"I'll just go ahead and make dinner."

A moment later Nezumi was left alone in the living room. Now that silence had returned once again, he decided to finish the book he had been reading until Shion disturbed him. 

However, he wasn't as focused as he was before. His mind kept drifting back to their earlier conversation. 

Shion had wanted to touch my hair, didn't he?

Nezumi closed his book two pages later. 

But come to think of it, didn't he want to get a haircut soon?

Right now Shion's hair reached a little below his chin in a chocolate brown mess. It was always funny to see his reaction whenever Nezumi would run his hand through them and ruffle them. While he mostly did it to see his reaction — which was oftentimes surprised accompanied by annoyance — he did like the feel of them. 

His hair was actually soft to the touch. Nezumi wouldn't habe guessed from someone who was the picture book definition of a workaholic. 

After putting his book away, he decided to join Shion in the kitchen. 

"Make sure the soup isn't too salty this time." 

—

"Thanks for the food." 

Once they were done eating, Nezumi brought the dirty dishes to the kitchen and washed them right away. It was one of their prime rules of living together to split the house chores evenly between them. So if one of them cooked it was only natural for the other one to clean after the meal.

As they were always taking turns doing the chores, living together had become rather comfortable. 

After the last dish had been dried off and put back in its place, Nezumi returned to the living room. 

"Don't you have work soon?" he asked his roommate who shook his head. 

"They just texted me that they won't need me after all," Shion explained. 

With a smirk Nezumi sat down next to him. 

"That means you finally get a Sunday for yourself in a long while." 

"Almost." 

When Shion leaned his body sideways to give him a gentle nudge he didn't dodge. 

"So I was actually wondering…"

"Yeah?" 

Nezumi urged the other to continue after a long moment of silence. 

"Can I brush your hair?" 

It took him a while to register Shion's question and then even longer to answer him.

"Alright, fine." 

The other's face brightened up over the positive response. 

"However, under one condition." 

Nezumi watched his confused expression with a small smile.

"What is it?" 

Although he looked hesitant, it was obvious that he was more curious than scared. 

Which was why he was quick to tell him.

"I want to style your hair." 

[lilacastar]

Little by little, stressful thoughts deconstructed as careful fingers assembled the carrier fighter.

It was a Grumman F-14A Tomcat. Garret's gentle hands glided over the model airplane, adjusting and adding. Finally not thinking. Finally doing something for himself, instead of giving everything he has to get through the day. Just this one thing for himself, and nothing could take that away. The bad thoughts couldn't reach him while he built.

After coming home to an empty apartment, he showered away the filth of the day, trimmed his beard neat, and cleaned the entire kitchen. From an outside view, he was productive and responsible. Only those with shared feelings knew, it was simply a cloak to make the perpetual feeling of dirtiness, feel a little less dirty.

"Garret?"

The voice startled him, but his steady hands refused to break character and nothing was dropped or broken. He gently set the unfinished carrier down to give attention to the unexpected Liz, still in her work shirt. A few strands of her dirty blonde hair had come undone from her pony, just long enough to reach her shoulder.

A light smile passed through him, "You're off early?"

"Nope," Liz smiled back. "It's nearly 8:30"

"Oh," He said in a daze.

She messed his tidied hair, "Looks like you were really into that. It's good to see you building again." She paused, taking a second to take in what was different. "You look nice, you cleaned up didn't you?"

"Thought it was time."

-

Tired from the day, emotionally exhausted, the two decided to not create any more dishes and instead ordered. But as Garret ate, the thoughts returned, a swirl of nausea making him want to stop.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Liz asked.

"Mmh," He mumbled. "I don't know really."

"You always say that." She said dejectedly.

"I'm sorry," He sighed. She was right, but it was never the right time. Never the right words and he could never bring himself to say if something was wrong. Even when they loved him.

"Can you at least tell me, I don't know, one thing about what's been bothering you?"

Would she believe him? Would saying something make her ask more questions? Would it be obvious of his personal experience? Anything to do with himself, and it was as if his voice was taken. Lost and buried down in his own body. But this wasn't about him, it was about Issac. And Issac deserved to be seen.

"Say," Garret started, and took a long pause to think deeply about how to phrase it neutrally.

Liz waited without a word, accepting any form of communication.

"Say," He resumed. "There is a student who inconsistently has behavior problems."

"Alright." She encouraged.

"Sometimes he seems to pay attention and participate, sometimes not. Sometimes he frequently needs the restroom multiple times a day, sometimes a normal amount. He often can't sit in one position long, and puts his hands in his pants. He might stare at other kids and adults pants too."

"Is he special needs?"

"No."

"A little weird, I guess. But he's what, 8?"

"What do you make of it? What would you think is wrong?"

"Uh, I mean I'm not a psychologist but maybe ADHD? Especially since he can't sit still."

"What about frequently putting his hands in his pants, and a weird relationship with the bathroom?"

"Isn't it not uncommon for people with ADHD to sometimes have poor physical awareness? Like, they get so into what they're doing they don't realize they need or eat or pee."

He nodded, "It can be, yeah. But what if, say, he also has poor hygiene. His hair is always unbrushed, and it's often not showered. And he wet himself."

"Gross, but yeah. If his mom isn't making him do it, they forget to clean themselves. Bad on her, honestly."

She doesn't see it. How could she not see it? It was so obvious to him, the signs were there, but no one else ever saw them as red flags. They refused to see them. Was this why no one ever said anything about his own signs as a child?

He swallowed, his voice becoming increasingly hard to stay strong and keep going. But she hadn't seen it. If she couldn't see what was obvious, then she probably wouldn't see the connection between him and the situation as well.

"Did you know," He started again. "That poor hygiene and things like bed-wetting past the appropriate age, can be a sign of-" His heart pounded, never having explained this before. But he still couldn't manage to say out loud, the particular type. "A sign of abuse?"

"Sort of? I mean, I guess not, actually. Sometimes kids are just kind of gross. Do you think that's what's happening?"

"Well, children who wet themselves past a normal time, or refuse to bathe, sometimes are doing it for a reason other than accidents."

"What do you mean?"

"Whether it's subconscious or not, sometimes a child will want to make themselves undesirable, so the abuse won't happen that day...or night. 'If I am gross and unclean, then maybe they won't want to be near me and hurt me', kind of thought process."

"That's awful," She added. "I hope to god that's not happening to your student."

"Ideally, me too. But things don't always account for our hopes. I'm just...stressed about the possibilities."

"Have you tried talking to his parents?"

"If it's coming from anyone in the family, then addressing it will only make them take the blame out on the child."

"Huh. I hope it's not happening, but I guess just keep an eye out since you're worried about it."

Just keep an eye out.

Is that what they said about you? Did anyone even notice? Why did no one notice when it was so obvious? Why didn't they care?

No one fucking cared.

'Just keep an eye out' and don't do a single thing to help. But what were he to do now? What could he do, if saying something would end up coming back at the child in need?

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

[notes]

"See something, say something" isn't always the right thing to do. Telling an abuser/potential abuser you think something is wrong, will not make them rethink their choices. It won't make them mad at you. It will make them mad at the victim. The victim is who faces the consequences in private, not you, not the person in question. Them.

[vic-kingsleigh]

°•°LSA #05: Birthday Shopping

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "Jungkook wants to spoil Jimin for his birthay, so he takes him out to do some shopping... With a way higher budget than the younger would ever imagine..."

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dom!Jungkook x Switch!Reader x Sub!Jimin

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1079

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Everyone starts catching feelings

→→→∙:♛:∙←←←

It was a cute birthday party, really. He didn't ever celebrate his birthday like you and Jungkook had, so he felt happy and appreciated.  The next day he wakes up with your soft knock on the door, his voice lets you in, you're holding a tray in your hands, with the breakfast you and Jk prepared this morning.  "We've been up for a little while, but we thought that you would want to sleep a bit more, hope the noise didn't bother you" He smiles, such a sweet boy. "Not at all, I couldn't notice it really, until you came here." You smile back at him "It's good you got to rest after the stress you were having, I don't know a lot about your career, but judging by your homework you showed me the other day it looks complicated." You get the tray on his lap, and he calmly starts to eat "Well, kind of, but nothing compared to the career I would've studied otherwise. Everyone says what I did is a stupid decision, but I like it when I compare the work I would be doing." You're sincerely really curious about this other career, but by the tense tone in his voice at the mention of the mather you decide it's not a good moment to dive in to that conversation, you let it go for now.  "So, does it taste good?" He nods "Yeah, these are some good waffles, really" You feel happy at that "Jungkook has something, I don't know what it is, but when he is the one preparing the waffles they just taste especially amazing,I've looked closely and he doesn't do any special steps... Guess it's one of those indecipherable secrets of the world around us or some shit." He laughs, he's having a good time and you can tell. "Well, then I'll make sure to always have ingredients for waffles, just in case he randomly feels like cooking those, we wouldn't want to lose such a good opportunity just because were out of... Whatever he needs" He responds jokingly, then takes a sip of the tall milkshake glass "You're late to that party honey, that's already my job, but you can bring something to put on top of 'em~." He rolls his eyes with a little smile "By the way, this milkshake is also amazing, incredible... Thank god I don't know the recipe for all of this stuff, otherwise I would absolutely loose shape" You smile at him, proud, that delicious milkshake is something you did. "Well, actually, that was my part of the breakfast~" He looks at you "Well of course, a delicious woman can only bring delicious food when cooking, it's kinda obvious but yet impressing, thanks for sharing this privilege with me" You two spend some more time together until he's done with breakfast, you start to pick everything up "You should get ready later, Jungkook wants to take you birthday shopping" You mention casually, he tilts his head to the side, looking at you "What do you mean with birthday shopping? You both already did something cute for me yesterday, I don't need nothing more, don't wanna make him spend more money..."

"Oh, that was me the first time, but believe me, you're going. He's determined, and kinda knew you were gonna say something along this lines, so he won't take no for an answer... I know you're not used to this stuff, but this is one of his ways to show he appreciates you and cares for you, the money you're gonna spend in this isn't really that much for him, but he just wants to do something special and this is his way... he would be hurt if you didn't accept... But, whatever you choose is good, just think about it"

He makes a little pout, you kiss his cheek and go out of the room with the dirty dishes, he just sighs and decides he will take a bath... He's still sticky from yesterday. He takes a slow shower, and once that is done he takes special time pampering himself. Doing the skincare routine for special days. If he's gonna be seen around Jungkook in public he might as well look good, otherwise it would be embarrasing for the elder.  He chooses a cute and casual outfit, after that going to the living room, where you both are hanging out. He just walks to the kitchen and gets himself a good glass of water, then walking to the free individual couch to watch what you two are binging, Jungkook looks at him. "I'm ready to go, what about you?" Jimin takes his look from the tv to the man talking to him "Oh, I am too, whenever you want to go It's fine" He answers with a polite smile.  They go shopping, and they tell you everything when they're back. Turns out Jungkook knew about a game console the younger wanted, but Jimin went looking for perfumes at a very comfortable price range at some random store.  He's almost mad at the "ridiculous" amount Jungkook spent in the best perfumes, and then in the console. Jimin tells you he was dragging Jungkook out of the game store, until the elder said "But wait, you can't do anything with that yet!" And then he was unstoppable, buying every title Jimin lowkey approved of... The younger was so embarrased when returning home carrying so many expensive stuff in their bags, you just laughed and teased him

"Yah, such a cute boy, with the most expensive taste. I can't ever get you a gift, Don't have enough money!" He only blushes, you and Jk laugh. You try to take his embarrasment off with some cuddles and kisses, which seems to do the opposite of what you wanted it to do, but he looks so cute you can't stop. Being completely honest, you're totally happy he got so many good things, you know he deserves it, definitely. And sooner or later he'll have to get used to both of you getting expensive stuff for him. Obviously only things he will enjoy, but you feel happy the numbers on the tag of whatever he wants, are not a problem anymore.

You're feeling something more than lust for him... And the smile your boyfriend has, looks... More brilliant than it does when he just appreciates someone... You know those cute laughs and smiles carry much more than a mix of courtesy and amusement.

And for some reason, that doesn't make you feel anything bad.

[aficwhore]

Truth Is (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3: Paper Weighted Problems

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After the night before, tensions between Fish and Chip arise. While tearing through the jungle and Lorea’s place, Frankie and the reader fight, leading to an amazing discovery.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity?, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death/death itself, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: Sorry for the late update, Life has its ups and downs! Today we had a bad storm so I sat in my basement and wrote this. I hope you like it<3

Regret. Frankie couldn't hide the emotion from me. It was as clear as day, I wondered if the boys had noticed it. 

“Well what’s for breakfast?” I broke the awkward silence, causing everyone but Frankie to break their gazes away from me, but exchanges looks between each other. I finally looked anywhere but in Frankie’s direction.

Tom cleared his throat, “Uh nothing special, we saw that you had some frozen waffles and just made those.” He tried to lighten the mood, it was obvious, everyone knew about last night. 

“Haha, yea, what grown woman buys Eggos?” Benny attempted to joke, causing Santi and Will to stifle a laugh. 

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile, thoughts of Frankie still clouding my mind. “For occasions just like this one! When five grown men have a slumber party in my living room.” I added, walking over to the counter and grabbing a plate full of waffles and dowsing them in syrup.

“Right, because that’s definitely what it was.” Tom chuckled, handing me a napkin.

“Exactly, I’m pretty sure I saw Pope braiding Benny Boy’s hair.” I joked biting into a chunk of food.

Ben scoffed, “It gets in my eyes!” And everyone froze, staring at him in shock. After a second of complete silence, Frankie burst into laughter, sending the rest of us into a laughing fit, except Ben. He stood there blushing, trying to act like he didn’t reveal that he braids his hair.

Will began to cough, struggling to not choke on the mouthful of food while he snickered. Pope roughly patted him on the back as our giggles died down. 

“So, does that mean you sit in the mirror and braid your own hair?” Tom questioned with a smirk on his face, wanting to bother Benny more.

“You shut up.” He jokingly spits. Tom raises his hands as a sign of defeat and continues to finish the last bites of food on his plate.

“Anyways...Other than our ‘slumber party’ I know two people that had some fun last night.” Pope spoke up, causing mine and Fish’s eyes to open wide.

“Oh yea, how could we forget? ‘Oh FrAnKiE, Oh YeS! HaRdEr!’” Benny mimicked me while thrusting his hips for dramatic affect. I could feel heat rising to my face as the boys roared with giggles again. 

“Would you cut it out?” Frankie replied, wanting to avoid this talk entirely. 

Then Pope joined in, making fun of Frankie, “’FuCk, bAbY, I wOn’T LaSt LoNg!’” I sat there, embarrassed and not knowing what to say. Normally this would be a joke, but with everything, this wasn’t a joking matter.

“I said enough!” Frankie shouted, “It shouldn’t have happened, okay?!” He expressed, shoving his chair back, getting up, and storming outside.

All the commotion died immediately. Pope and Benny opened their mouths to apologize when they turned to me, but were met with a blank stare.

Did he really mean that? After pursuing me? After trying so hard to make up, he goes and says ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’

Everyone remained quiet, continuing to stare at me in concern. After what felt like hours, Tom pushed his seat back and got up, hopefully headed to catch Frankie.

Once Tom had made it out the front door, I cleared my throat, "So, what time are we leaving?" I asked, trying to hide all the hurt and pain from my eyes.

The three remaining men all exchanged looks, "Here in 15." Santi spoke quietly, unsure of what exactly just happened.

"Sounds good!" I faked enthusiasm, stuffing my mouth with the last bite on my plate and getting up. I swiftly put my dishes in the sink and headed back to my room. I could hear the boys whispering to each other, trying to understand what the hell was going on with Frankie and I.

I closed my door behind me. I leaned against it, letting my head fall back with defeat and hit the door. Feeling my emotions topple over the brim, tears rushed to my eyes as I slid down the door and sank to the floor.

What the fuck was going on? Why was Frankie so upset with our actions. I thought finally we had made up, that he was once again MY Fish. Had he just used me last night? What changed his mind? Why was this happening all over again?

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't realized that my sobs were now audible. I couldn't hold back the garbled gasps I let out. Tears stained my cheeks and began to soak my shirt.

Through the door I could hear the boys trying to get each other to come get me, because it was close for us to leave. Not wanting to deal with the water works anymore, I slapped my cheeks a few times, trying to smack the emotions out of my head. I wiped my tears off and quick got up to change my shirt.

After rummaging through my clothes, I found a similar shirt, threw it on and swung open the door, wanting to just head to the airport, and to get this over with.

Holding my head up high, I confidently walked back to the kitchen/living room to meet the boys. Only Benny and Will stood there waiting for me, finishing the dishes and putting them away.

"All set? I'm ready to get this over with and be rich." I attempted to joke, causing the brothers in front of me to awkwardly chuckle, their eyes full of worry.

Benny shook his head, acknowledging that I wanted to ignore the fiasco and to get on the road. He led the way out of the apartment after hanging up a dish towel and grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter.

I followed quickly behind him with Will right on my heels. When we made it to the cars, Frankie sat in the front passenger side of Santi's truck, Santi in the driver seat, and Tom between them.

"I'll drive," Will offered, making his way to his truck and getting in. Benny walked ahead of me, opened the door and waited for me to hop in, before getting in after.

No one spoke as we tailgated Santi's truck all the way to the airport. Will placed his hand on my thigh the whole time, as a way to console me. Benny had his arm around me, slightly pulling me into his side. With them, I felt much better, they were my best friends and knew exactly how to comfort me.

When we found a good parking space, we all hopped out, and grabbed our things from the bed of the trucks. It was still awkwardly silent between everyone.

As we checked into our flights and went through TSA, Benny tried to lighten the mood by saying he needed a snack, even though we had just ate. We all giggled when Will called him a 'garbage disposal.'

Sitting at our flight gate was almost unbearable, realizing this mission would be very difficult, now with the added tension.

When we boarded the plane, Will and Santi sat with me, of course I was in the middle. Tom, Benny, and Frankie sat in the seats next to us. During the first hour I attempted to read a book, but quickly got bored as I felt Pope fall asleep and rest his head against my shoulder. Will sat with his eyes closed and headphones in.

I glanced over Pope's sleeping frame to find the others. Benny was leaned forward, head down and snoring on the tray he had propped up. Tom was slouched in his chair, his head lulling back and forth with sleep consuming him. And Frankie, who was also reading, looked up and met my eyes.

I ignored the gaze he gave me and turned my attention back to my book. Moments later I felt my phone buzz with a text. I sat my book down and pulled out my phone, reading the message;

Fishie: "I'm sorry..."

I rolled my eyes, was he really apologizing for his blowout, over a text?

Locking my phone, I put it face down into my lap, leaving the message unanswered. I continued my page in my book, only getting past a few sentences before my phone vibrated again. I acted as if I didn't feel it and remained reading. Only for it to ping again.

Frustratedly, I opened my phone again, seeing two additional texts;

Fishie: "Really?"

Fishie: "I meant what I said. I am sorry, but last night... was a mistake."

Heat began to rise to my cheeks, I forcefully typed back;

Me: "Wow, you are unbelievable."

I heard him shuffle and type back quickly;

Fishie: "Because I apologized? It's true, I'm only helping us both here. Yea it was my fault, but I shouldn't have gone to your room."

Me: "You took advantage of my feelings. You acted like we can just ignore this, I can't help but feel you led me on."

Fishie: "Led you on?! How? WE both decided to sleep together, thats it. I didn't LEAD you to do anything."

Me: "You're a real fucking piece of work."

Fishie: "Oh really?"

Me: "Yea, fuck you."

Fishie: "God you are the most stubborn and hard headed person I've ever met. Can't you see that this was a damn mistake?"

Me: "Screw you, oh wait, I did, but look where that got me. I don't even know why you're trying to apologize, because somehow you keep shifting the blame to me."

As I hit send and shoved my phone between my legs and put my book away, I heard Frankie huff with anger. Awaiting a reply I closed my eyes and leaned against Will, using his arm as a pillow.

But for a while, nothing came, and I slowly began to drift into unconsciousness.

My sleep had been interrupted by the plane shaking and a loud thump. I opened my eyes abruptly, and slightly frightened. I faced Will, to glance out the window and found that we had finally landed in Colombia.

We all silently gathered our things and slowly made our departure from the plane and airport. Once we trudged through the doors, we made it into the humid climate, the wet air immediately dampening our skin and clothes.

"Damn, this is gonna be fun." Benny chirped as we all huddled into the jeep Santi had prepared for us. Santi hopped upfront, and so did Tom, leaving four of us to try and fit in the backseat.

"Pope, there six of us, there's no way we'll fit AND have room for the bags." I spoke up, watching as Will, Benny, and Frankie smushed into the seats together.

"I know, I promise I'm more prepared than that," he laughed. "We only have to ride like this for a few miles, then we're on foot, and they'll have cargo vans there." He explained, turning on the engine and motioning for me to somehow get in.

"You can sit on my lap, I'll hold you down during Pope's insane driving." Benny laughed from between Will and Fish. I climbed over Will, careful not to hurt him, and landed in Ben's lap when he yanked the arm I used to brace my weight.

I twisted in his lap to sit comfortably, hoping I'd fit and we could just hurry up and get this over with. Benny wrapped his arms around my waist as Santi sped off and made way to a long and bumpy road.

We hit quite a few bumps and potholes, causing me to shift and bounce in Benny's lap. I tried to lean forward and hang in-between the two front seats, to help alleviate the rough contact between us.

"Damn it Chip, quit wiggling." Benny grunted from behind me.

"I can't control that, Pope is hitting every possible bump on the road." I squeaked as we hit a particularly hard one. I landed back into his lap and felt something. "Ouch, what the hell is in your pocket."

Will snorted and faced the window to hide his face as Benny gulped loudly. "I-I can't help it, you keep moving!" I froze, wanting to still believe it was something in his pocket.

"C'mon man, can't you control yourself?" Frankie angrily spoke up.

I pulled my back from Benny and sat as far forward on his legs as I could, turning to look at Frankie. "What? How is it-" I countered, my voice dying in my throat.

"Fish, you know how it works, it's not like I'm doing this on purpose." Benny awkwardly explained.

Frankie huffed and shook his head. "Whatever." he muttered.

"Looks like someone is jealous." Santi quietly joked.

"I am not jealous! We-we are on a damn mission! That should be the last thing from anyones mind, we need to focus on not dying and getting the fucking money." Frankie snapped, filling the jeep with his booming voice.

All noise ceased, the only sound was the creaking of the car as we rolled off the main road into a trail. The tension was at an all time high, it was engulfing and in a way, suffocating.

After some time, we stopped, Santi throwing the car in park and quickly turning to us. "My informant said that the mansion should be vacant, but we only have about 15 minutes, so we get in and get out, with as much as we can carry, but we can't take too much time." We all nodded. "When I get the signal, we're coming in hot and getting right to it. Get out and suit up." He turned back around and hopped out.

We followed behind, pulling out our bags and pulling on our gear. Not much else was said, due to the shit that was about to go down, even though it would be empty, you never know what could happen.

"Alright, obviously with everything, we no longer fit, I'll ride the side." I spoke, waiting for Will to get in and shut the door.

"Me too, easier that way." Frankie offered, shutting his door after Benny jumped in.

Will shut his door and I placed my foot on the step bar, hauling myself up to grab the rack on top for support, hanging on tight as Frankie did the same. "All good?" Pope asked through the window.

"Game time bitches." I quirked, slapping my free hand on the top of the Jeep. As we waited for the signal, I took in my surroundings, lush, thick forest all the way around, If Pope doesn't know where to go, we'd definitely get lost.

As I admired the greenery, I turned to look over the roof of the car, meeting Frankie's eyes for what seemed like the millionth time since we've reunited.

He sheepishly looked away and down at the ground, his knuckles which wrapped around the frame of the rack, tightened and turned white.

A garbled and staticky noise came from the cab of the vehicle, causing Pope to slam the gear shift into drive and yell "Hold on tight!" He lurked the jeep forward, stepping up the speed.

I held on tighter, pulling my body as flush as I could to the side of the Jeep, to avoid hitting the branches and brush that littered the sides of the overgrown trial.

After a long blur of green, the forest broke into a path, leading to a small mansion. Just as fast as we drove, we stopped. I jumped off and quickly swung the door open for Will, stepping back and pulling my gun from my side.

Without any words, we all strategically filed into the house, making sure to take cover and search the premise, eliminating any threats. The first floor had been barren, as for people, though it was filled with expensive artwork and furniture.

Once we all searched and met at the staircase, Pope nodded at me, signaling for me to take the lead upstairs and sweep the area. I quickly glided up the stairs and took cover near the first door, getting ready to burst in the room and check. To my luck, when I leaped into the room, it was empty. I glanced behind the door, and walked further into the office, keeping my gun at attention.

I could hear the boys doing the same, in the last four rooms. I observed the room, a big desk sat in the middle, a fancy chair accompanied it, the walls were decorated with paintings and portraits. The was a door in the corner, which I strode over to, swinging it open, full force. An alarmed Fish sat on the other side, the door led to the next room. I quickly pointed my gun at the ground and rolled my eyes, turning to examine the room again.

"Clear!" I yelled, letting the team know our section was safe.

Frankie walked through the door and up to me, as I sifted through the desk. "Hey I just wanted to talk real quick."

"Really? Now is not the time, look for the money." I spat back at him. "Any luck?!" I yelled hoping someone found something.

A faint voice answered, "No! I swear, she said there was money here!" Pope echoed.

Getting antsy, I shoved the desk, causing it to fall over, Frankie stepped back, "Listen, I didn't mean to make things worse, okay? Trust me I wanted nothing more than to be with you again."

I paused my movements, holding a paperweight in my hand, "No Frankie, you've done enough, either you want me or don't." I spoke harshly.

"Damn it Chip, just listen!" He raised his voice.

"No! I'm not doing this again, get your shit together and fucking look for something!" I yelled, bending down to put the weight down. He leaned forward and grabbed my arm. "Fuck you!" I yanked away, causing the paper weight to leave my hand and barrel into the wall.

The wall cracked, a hole forming as the weight bounced off and fell to the ground. "Look at what you did!" Frankie gasped with frustration.

I whipped around, walking to the wall, grabbing the paperweight. As I stood, I stopped halfway up when I was met with the hole. But it wasn't just an empty wall or beam behind it. There were plastic packages sticking out, which is very unusual for houses. Frankie began to murmur again.

"Shh! Shut Up!" I shushed him, reaching into the hole and tugging at the bag.

"You never let me talk-" Frankie continued.

"Frankie shut the fuck up! Look!" I screamed when the bag came out of the wall and into my hands. I Twisted on my heel and showed him the bag, which contained a huge stack of One-hundred dollar bills.

"Holy Fuck." Frankie gulped, making eye contact with me.

TAGLIST @tanyaherondale @winter-fox-queen @supernaturalgirl @actual-spawn-of-satan @hnt-escape @toomanystoriessolittletime @shadowolf993 @goldielocks2004

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

[lovelivingmydreams]

Paper Flowers: one step forwards two steps back

Progress isn't always linear. And the setbacks can feel devastating. But it might still be worth it to try and move forward again.

A cute puppy jumps around excitedly, clearly asking to play, in a grassy field, on a sunny day.

Dad lays his hands to his heart. "Aw so cute!"

The dark Lord has his arms crossed, face partially hidden in the shadow of his pulled up hood. "Pathetic," he scoffs, not even looking.

A cat delicately washes her face. Dad gasps. "Elegant!"

Nemesis rolls his eye. "Obnoxious"

A horse prances around a meadow, hair flowing freely in the wind.

Dad stared on in awe and whispered: "Majestic."

Nemesis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Disgraceful"

Suddenly Dad jumped on a bench and pointed frantically at the ground. "Aaah spider!" he screamed.

Nemesis cooed as he knelt down. "Hello there darling!" He gets up, gently petting a massive spider.

Dad screams in horror once more.

 "Well, that was fun," Patton smiled nervously. Virgil looked up at his paternal colleague with a raised brow. The man's body language didn't exactly radiate "I just had fun" energy.

"Plastic spider got you spooked huh?" He mused as he returned his attention to his phone. Thomas just got done filming their character's collab video. Princey's latest very transparent attempt at helping Virgil get along with the others.

"A little," Patton admitted. "But still. I get why Roman enjoys making videos with you so much!"

Virgil suppressed a scoff. There was no real need to point out that it was just Thomas playing caricature versions of them. If Patton wanted to pat himself on the back for this he wasn't going to burst his bubble. So he just shrugged. "I guess," he muttered not noticing how Patton lit up at this small victory.

“Wonderful work you two!” Roman beamed as he entered the commons. Okay, so apparently there was a point in pointing out the obvious.

“Does everyone just forget that it is Thomas who plays these characters? Most we did was toss in a few suggestions. The vine is all you Roman, jeez!” Virgil complained, though he gave Roman the smallest hint of a smile. He wasn’t sure if Roman had started making an effort to give the others credit since they became friends, or if it was just a part of him Virgil only saw now because he spent some actual time around him without shouting insults at each other. Not to say they hadn’t had fights the past… Six months, man time flies. Anyway, their fights could get just as heated as ever. But now after they stormed off to their rooms to cool down, one or the other would eventually knock on the other’s back door with a movie or a snack and an apology. They’d talk things out and make up. It was much better like this. In the past when Virgil’s anger subsided he’d start panicking about… well, everything. Not talking about it afterwards, or even acknowledging that a fight had taken place… Yeah not great.

Roman just rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say Gloom Day. But what did you guys think?” he asked, smile back in place. Roman was already feeling good about today because Virgil had more or less openly complemented him.

“It was amazing Roman! I’m sure the fanders will love it too!” Patton gushed.

Roman gave a little bow. “Thanks padre. Your enthusiasm is appreciated as always.”

This time Virgil could not contain his snort.

“Something funny? Panic at the everywhere?” Roman asked, hands on his hips and a brow raised in challenge.

“Nice one,” Virgil allowed. “It’s just, why even bother asking him? You know he’s going to sing your praises. You can’t sneeze without getting a medal as far as Patton is concerned,” he pointed out.

“That’s not true,” Patton protested gently.

“Well, what did you think then? Oh, sinister one?” Roman asked expectantly, not commenting on the medal thing.

Virgil thought about that for a moment. “I guess it was sort of okay. It was rough on Thomas because Dad and Nemesis have very different energy, but he enjoyed it. The fanders probably didn’t expect the nemesis to interact with other characters,” he allowed, trying to sound reluctant. This time he did see that Patton was beaming. He was really getting too soft around the others.

“Evening everyone,” Logan greeted as he entered the commons. Making Patton get up to get dinner ready and Virgil contemplate whether he’d have dinner in his room or if he could handle a little more social interaction.

“Logan! How did you like today’s project? I am two for two and feeling pretty good, so no need to hold back your criticism,” Roman grinned. Logan cast his eyes to Virgil and then to Patton who nodded, clearly excited to confirm this.

“I see. Well while your intentions were rather transparent, it was a rather good experiment.”

Virgil sat up confused. Did… Did Logan figure them out?

“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” Roman grinned innocently.

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Fine. You ran a test to see how the fanders would respond to the characters loosely based on our personalities interacting. Anxiety and Patton are an interesting first choice. My character and Patton’s would have a more natural combined narrative, but it is effective none the less. I assume that if this gets positive reviews, you will propose other collaborations as well?”

Roman shrugged. “Maybe.”

Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman had promised to stop pushing the subject after things got to a blow with Patton after the whole ‘Marcus’ incident. He should have known that he wouldn’t intentionally push them together.

“Oh Roman! That’s a brilliant idea! That’ll definitely help Anxiety feel less nervous about the whole thing. Right Anxiety?” Patton asked kindly.

Virgil shrugged as he got up to set the table. Just to have something to do.

“You guys do whatever. I’m still not on board.” He didn’t expect them to get it. They represented what people liked about Thomas. His intelligence, creativity, humor, kindness, passion…

He was… as far as everyone was concerned, what hurt Thomas. And yes, he overdid it, a lot. He had tried to be better, honestly, but he couldn’t help who he was.

“We’ll see about that Doominator. I’ll win you over, just you wait. But what did you think Logan?” Roman insisted, pulling Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Well, until we have more data it is hard to say…” Logan started, but then he stopped to ponder. Roman was actively asking for feedback. He had even stated that he could handle it if it wasn’t entirely positive. Maybe he should reward that effort with some of his own.

“Though while I usually would stick with facts, if it is my personal opinion you are seeking…”

An eager nod from Roman confirmed this. Well here goes.

“You all know I am not most in tune with emotions and artistic endeavors. That being said, you did well. The classic broken pattern and the recurring theme of closing off a video including Anxiety and any other character with some form of screaming will almost certainly be well received by the fans.”

Roman was beaming. He had more or less expected someone to criticize the skit in some way, but they all really thought it was good. Maybe the Sanders Sides series could actually happen!

“Dinner’s ready! Thanks for helping out Anxiety,” Patton said pleasantly.

Virgil looked down at the table and found he’d finished setting for four. Guess he’ll be staying for dinner.

He sat across from Patton with Roman to his right and Logan to his left. Roman was brainstorming out loud while they ate dinner, occasionally encouraged by Patton or redirected by Logan when he veered of topic. Once or twice Virgil even muttered a teasing remark which had Roman pouting dramatically and the specs trying to hide their amusement.

It was nice, almost, normal.

He should’ve known then that something was heading his way.

“What do you say Florida Ghoul? Underrated Disney movie night?” Roman asked as they put away the dishes.

Virgil was honestly tempted. Almost all his favorites were in that category. Which Roman knew. They’d argued about the best movies often enough.

But if he started he might lose track of time…

“I have made you all suffer through enough of me I think. I’m going to head down, see what the others are up to.” Thomas was more or less dozing off in front of the tv, he should be fine going down. Maybe he could ask J for a movie night of their own.

“Night,” he waved as he made his way to the door to below. Suddenly he felt someone tug at his hoodie? He looked back, expecting Roman, but it was Patton, looking at him with big shocked eyes.

“Y-you’ll be back though right? We really don’t mind you staying. You don’t have to…”

Virgil raised his hands. “Wow, calm down. What made you think I was going to go back? Permanently I mean.”

Patton looked away, let go of his shirt and started fidgeting with his hands.

That told Virgil enough. He looked up to Roman and Logan. “What did Deceit do?”

Roman got ready to speak, but Logan beat him to it.

“About a week ago, after we first discussed Roman’s Sanders Sides idea, he made a brief appearance. He implied that he might take you back in if we didn’t do a better job of ‘handling you’. Roman and I already assured Patton that Janus has no such power without our aid, but he apparently has not been convinced.”

Virgil glanced to Roman who nodded to confirm that this was how things had played out.

He let out a tired sigh. “I can’t belief this guy. I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could say anything he rushed down the stairs. His thoughts racing. Was this the first time Janus had tried to guilt the others into being his friends? Had Roman… No… No he couldn’t start down that path. Not yet anyway.

“Janus!” he called out as he entered the living room.

“Virgin!” Remus greeted excitedly. Virgil gave the chaotic gremlin he’d grown up with a quick wave.

“Leave us for a sec Remus,” he growled, not looking away from the yellow clad side.

Janus walked up to Remus, looking at Virgil with confusion.

“Why don’t you go hunt something for breakfast Remus,” Janus suggests. Remus didn’t need any more prompting than that. A second later they were alone.

"Virgil, what's the matter?"

Virgil worked a brow. "What do you think? Why could I possibly be mad at you?" He asked, wanting to give Janus a chance to fess up himself.

Janus took in his body language and expression. This was not the fury he'd expect if he'd somehow discovered Janus had been in his room when he wasn't there.

So that left... "Did the lights really tell on me?" He huffed trying to hide how worried that made him. He had no clue about the context. What did Virgil think happened?

"No. I said I was planning on hanging with you guys tonight with plenty of my usual self deprecating humor and Patton was worried I was planning on staying away. I figured you had something to do with that. Logan told me what happened because I asked," Virgil clarified.

"Now I want to hear your side. The truth J. Please." He really hoped the explanation wouldn't be as heartbreaking as the one in his head.

Janus took in a deep breath. "Okay, bit promise we'll stay on topic. No evading, no beating around the bush." Virgil nodded in agreement.

Janus studied his face for a moment until he was satisfied with what he saw. "Okay. Virgil you have been disappearing. I tried to check up on you a few times the past few months and you were just gone. I allowed you to go upstairs because I thought it would be better for you. But if they are erasing you... I needed them to at least try to keep you. I didn't know what else to do..."

Virgil groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to skip over the fact that you obviously entered my room while I was our, for now." He took a deep breath. It wasn't a surprise really. Janus and Remus both always just appeared in his room when they wanted to speak with him. So of course Janus had occasionally popped in to find it empty.

"I was probably in the imagination," Virgil confessed.

"The... why? How?!" Janus asked shocked.

"Roman gave me a little meadow to relax. Like 5 months ago I think. Not too long after the prince vs nemesis video's started. I go there when I need a break."

Janus stammered for a few seconds before letting out a utterly perplexed: "Why?"

That hurt a little. Was it that hard to belief?

"He only said he felt like giving me something. Maybe it was because I gave him some constructive criticism earlier and he wanted to try out positive reinforcement. You know he always overdoes everything," Virgil explained. There wasn't a single lie in his statement, so Janus believed him.

"But... he's not supposed to know..." Janus collapsed a hand in front of his mouth, realizing he said that out loud.

"What is Roman not supposed to know?" Virgil growled.

Janus took a small step back. "I... before I sent you upstairs I told Patton and Logan what I was planning and why. I wanted to be sure they'd look after you."

Virgil nodded. That made sense. "Why was Roman not supposed to know that?"

Janus couldn't look at Virgil. "I... told them I was worried what it would do to Thomas if you didn't move to a less stressful environment. I wasn't sure if Roman would be helpful or even more wary of you. So I blocked even the thought of telling Roman about our conversation from their minds."

Virgil was silent for a few moments. Somehow he felt a lot better about everything now. It all made so much more sense.

"Unblock it then," he muttered as he turned around.

"Virgil..."

"Unblock it. I'll see you guys next week or something. Maybe..." J had meant well after all... right?

"Virgil!" Janus called after him, but he was already halfway the upper commons.

When he walked in Roman, Logan and Patton were standing there waiting for him.

"Janus lied. So you don't have to pretend anymore. And you should be able to tell Roman," he said. Hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the doorframe. His old walks back in place. It was better that way.

"Anxiety... kiddo no. You..."

"Just drop it!" Virgil hissed in his tempest tongue, the briefest glimpse of his feral form was enough to make Patton stagger backwards into Logan. Roman was reaching out though. He was still on Virgil's side.

"I was getting sick of all this sappy family stuff anyway," he scoffed before leaving for gos room.

 Roman stormed into the meadow ready to break down Virgil's door if he had to. Virgil hadn't knocked not even once. But he couldn't be left alone with his thoughts now!

He was barely two steps inside when he spotted Virgil sitting there, a crown of purple daisies in his hand.

"You came," the anxious man breathed in relief.

Roman sat down next to him careful to keep enough distance but also be within reach.

"Of course," he said gently. They both knew ge wanted to defend Patton and Logan. To assure Virgil that they never did what they did because they feared he would be pushed to the edge and hurt Thomas in the fallout.

Virgil had explained to him that his discomfort around Patton was due to feeling like the moral side saw him as a ticking timebomb.

The reason for that was painfully obvious now. But how to make Virgik see that Patton was more distant than he wanted to be instead of more welcoming?

"I knew it was all too good to be true. The bubble was bound to burst... I told myself not to get too attached, cause it would end up hurting... I didn't realize... not until earlier. My room is almost back where I started Roman. I litterally pushed them away. And I thought... I thought I'd pushed you away too." Roman could tell Virgil had been crying.

"Preposterous. I'm much too stuborn to get rid if that easily," he assured Virgil. The darker side cracked a smile at that.

"I'm glad I was wrong about that..."

Roman nodded. Virgil had told him how much he hated being right.

"Did I ruin movienight?" Virgil wondered tensely.

"Well I don't know about Logan and Patton. But you and I are going yo watch all those tragically underrated movies."

And with a wave of his hand Roman set out an out doors movie theatre complete with snacks. The sky darkened and Virgil was handed a movie menu.

He smirked as he looked it over. Roman really did have to overdo everything. Including distracting him.

It was appreciated though.

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @riverdoesbadart @vpow @apinkline2715 @frida43 @tired-yeetling @firegirl156

Later Virgil would discover that his room was moved just a few feet closer to the upper level again.

Next: adjusting

[midnight-lightning]

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.  

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.  

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

 Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.  

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.  

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to  intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin. 

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.” 

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

[sauveteen]

3.25 Year Anniversary | s.m

"You're really trying to lie with your face all red like that?"

"But I swear I'm not lying!" Is what Shawn claims, but the way he's biting down on his lip to hide his painfully obvious smile tells you something completely different. Your boyfriend's cheeks are stained red — and by stained, you don't mean the soft, rosy blush he gets after a cold day out or a heated makeout session. You're talking tomato, crimson, I-look-like-I-took-a-snowball-to-the-face red. The kind of blush you've only seen on him when he's a) lying, or b) ecstatic.

Something — more specifically, the twinkle in his tired eyes — tells you that the current reason for his expression is a mix between the two.

You hum, a lame attempt to humour him. Placing your bag on the counter, you hold your hand out, "Can I at least see?"

It takes a little convincing and a lot of pecks for him to finally place his hand in yours, an angry gash cutting across his palm. Wincing, you immediately twist towards the shelf that holds your first aid box, but Shawn's grip on your waist anchors you there.

"I've cleaned it already. I'm stupid, but not that stupid, you know?"

"What about a bandage?"

"We're all out. Shouldn't have used them to wrap me a birthday present, don't you think?" His grin is wide, and voice teasing, so you can't help but join in on his mirth. Giggling softly, you tuck your hair behind your ear, bringing his hand up to your palm to press soft, butterfly kisses against his wound. He sighs, contended, and pulls you in by his other hand. Dropping a kiss to the top of your head, Shawn lets his fingers tangle into your hair. You hum against his chest, the warmth from his knitted sweater pressing into your cheek.

"I just don't get it, though..," Belatedly, you pull away, "So you're saying you got that while washing dishes?"

"Yes, hunny. I've told you like ten times already."

"But Shawn... we have a dishwasher."

"And?" Shawn presses impatiently, hurriedly trying to pull you back in. You resist, however, leaning away from his touch.

"And you hate doing the dishes."

"I just wanted to do something nice for you!"

"Are you sure?" You purse your lips, gaze falling to his cut hand, "You sure you're good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Shawn places his hands on your face, pulling your face upwards to press a sweet kiss against your lips, "How can I not be good when my second favourite girl in the world is here with me?"

Your eyes narrow in suspicion, "Second favourite, huh?"

"First is Beyoncé. Always. Sorry, babe, you're gonna have to do a little more than be cute to top Queen B."

"Queen B doesn't take care of your annoying morning wood every morning, does she?"

"I mean, yeah," Shawn tilts his head to the side, a little smirk gracing his features, "But she's not the one who causes it either, soo.."

You chuckle, swatting his chest with the back of your hand before moving underneath his arms and out of his grip. A soft whine of protest follows you as you pad around the kitchen, Shawn's doe-like eyes watching your every moment. You breathe a sigh of relief once your hair cascades down your shoulders, placing your scrunchie on the island. Proceeding to take off your heels, you chuck them towards the living room, telling yourself you'd bother with those later. Coming home to the sight of your boyfriend tumbling around clumsily in the kitchen had been contending, but you can now slowly feel the tiredness of the day weighing in your shoulders. Making your way back to him, you place your hand on Shawn's face, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I'll go get changed, 'kay?"

Shawn answers with a nod, but his movements are too practiced. Rehearsed, almost. You try not to let yourself be bothered by his antics, making your way over to the living room. The sight that greets you has you gasping audibly, hands flying to your mouth to hide your surprise. Turning back to see Shawn casually leaning against the doorframe, a shit eating grin on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"This—I— what?" You manage to stutter, stealing glances at the marvellous spread before you. The entire living room has been decked out in candles, a massive blanket fort stretching from the beginning of the hall to the doors leading to the balcony. Your mind is screaming three things — one, oh my God this is a big safety hazard, two, Jesus Christ that must've taken a shit load of time, and three (and this one you say aloud), "What?"

Shawn's making his way over to you, patting himself on the back for his stealthy trick that had distracted you into completely avoiding the living room earlier. He had wanted to see your expression, more than he wanted you to enjoy the actual setup itself. What Shawn needed was to gauge the look on your face as you took in the hardwork he had put into your surprise, the amount of time he had spent lighting and blowing candles. Because sometimes — sometimes words fell short to describe his love for you. Sometimes he had to go all out.

And you loved him to death for it.

"Happy three point two five year anniversary!" Shawn announces giddily, placing his hands on your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground. His happiness is so damn contagious that you're joining in on his laughter not long after, your hands on his shoulders as he twirls you around. When Shawn finally sets you back down, the both of you stumble for a few moments, unable to find your grip on the ground.

You hold his arm to steady yourself, eyes mapping the layout behind you, "Shawn, baby, I love you so much — but you know a quarter of an anniversary is not a real thing, right?"

"I knew you've had a long month and were shit booked with meetings today. Just wanted to do something nice for mon amour. What, I can't celebrate my love for you anymore? Rude!" Shawn looks genuinely hurt, bottom lip jutted out. Before you can apologise and convince him of your happiness, however, his face breaks out into a grin, "Just kidding! Ha! Got you, bitch."

"You're a baby."

"What did you say?" Shawn tips his head forward, his ear turned towards your face, "I'm your baby? Yeah, sounds about right."

You're too busy staring at the candles to send another retort his way, your hand intertwining with his again. Eyes dancing with love for the boy you so luckily ended up with. Your finger brushes against his wound, causing him to hiss slightly and for your eyebrows to furrow.

"And this? You didn't get this while washing the dishes, did you?" You slide his palm open again, concerned eyes now flitting between him and his hand. There's a sheepish glow to his face as you wait for him to answer, an eyebrow raised expectantly. When he finally does, you don't know whether you want to laugh or reprimand him for being the most stupid twenty year old you know.

"So I wanted to have wine ready, right?"

"Right.."

"And I don't know how to use that twisty corky thingy, right? You always do that for me."

"Mh—mm."

"So I kinda... sorta... might've used a knife?"

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, lips parting in surprise. Your mouth open and closes, reminding Shawn of a dazed goldfish, but he pinches his lips shut as he waits for your reaction. And then you're screeching, hitting his chest with balled fists, but your laughter seeps into your anger, causing you to giggle between your words.

"You—fucking—dumbass!" You manage to let out, chasing him as he tries running away from you, "You could've killed yourself!"

"But I didn't!"

"But you could've! All over a bottle of wine?"

"I will have you know, though.." Shawn holds up a finger, gripping both your wrists in his giant hand, "That it was a Chateau Pierre de Montignac."

"Oh, thank God," You let out a relieved sigh, "That changes everything."

"It does, doesn't it?" Shawn lets your hands go, "It's like plum—"

"No it doesn't! I don't care what brand it was, Shawn, you could've seriously hurt yourself!"

"But.."

"But..?"

"But I didn't!"

"Shawn!" You exclaim laughing, not finding it within you to be mad at him anymore, "Come on! It's not funny."

"I'm not the one who's laughing, though?"

"I hate you," You mutter, softly shaking your head. The smile on your face says completely otherwise, though. Your arms go around his waist and you press your face against his chest, Shawn's heartbeat thumping softly against your cheek. Allowing your eyes to flutter close as you breathe him in. He smells like the laundry detergent you fought over in the middle of a grocery store because, apparently, Olives suck ass and he would leave you if he had to use your detergent again. So despite him bullying you into switching detergents, his warmth and presence smells like home.

"A reveleation like that, and on our 3.25 anniversary? Damn, you're really out for blood tonight."

"Shut up and kiss me, idiot."

"Yes ma'am."

taglist: @muffinmendussy @fuckneymar

[lmk if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!]

[poli9048]

Part 3

"Who are you gonna run to now?"

Lea was carrying a container with warm food in it that her father had asked her to take to a neighbor. The delicious smell of lasagna made her dizzy, but the unpleasant feeling that was tormenting her from the inside did not allow her to concentrate on this pleasant smell at all.

The incident at the party had thrown Leia out of her comfort zone. She was bitterly aware that it would be awkward for her to look at her friend's eyes now, since they had almost kissed twice in the past week, and the thought of it made her cheeks flush with shame. Lea and Chris never allowed themselves to do this, valued their friendship and stayed at a distance. Currently, both have taken a step, not fully realizing in what kind of way.

With a heavy sigh, Brossard walked to the Morrises 'front porch and pulled the handle of the neighbors' front door as if it were the entrance to her own home. The door wasn't locked, so Lea went inside. Chris, in a rumpled t-shirt and disheveled hair, was sitting at the table in the living room, his dark green eyes fixed on a shelf, but it was clear that his thoughts were far beyond this room.

Without bothering to say Hello, Lea set the container right in the middle of the table, pushing the dirty glasses and several packets of candy bars to one side. — From my parents. This is lasagna, be careful, don't choke on it.

Chris shifted his heavy gaze to the woman next to him, mumbled something under his breath, and returned his gaze to the bookcase.

— Where's the thank you? I was actually wasting my time bringing you this masterpiece of cooking — Lea began, ignoring her friend's untidy, tired appearance, the dark circles and bags under his eyes clearly indicating that the young man had not slept for several nights in a row.

— Thank you, — Chris said. —Finished? Get out of here.

— I'm actually trying to help you, and you're acting like a complete asshole,— Lea said. A few days of continuous lectures from her parents and an early Sunday service left their mark on her emotional state.

— I don't need your help, okay?! — Chris exploded, clearly on edge. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair, his eyes blazing with rage, and his voice breaking into a scream. — I can't help myself, and how can you help me? Who are you, anyway? A strong and independent hooker. No one sees you more than as a sexual object!

Lea recoiled as if she had been whipped. Morris's words were just as stinging, and the girl's lips were frozen with hysteria.

— And you're a damned weakling who does nothing but whine and feel sorry for yourself. Mama's boy! Where is your mother? Who are you going to run to now?! — these words came out of her mouth. Lea did not even have time to realize how much she had hurt him now. Chris felt like a slap in the face, and his eyes — those mirrors of his soul — were now filled with pain and despair.

— Go to the office and get a job there, — Lea suggested after a moment's silence, trying to hide the excitement and remorse in her voice.

— I already went, and the only thing I was told was that it was fucking mediocre,— Chris said, recovering from a moment of rage, and picking up the container that his friend had brought from the table and removing the foil in which the still — warm lasagna was wrapped, he began to eat it. Lasagna was Mrs. Brossard's signature dish, and she made it for holidays, neighborhood gatherings, and school fairs. Many who tried the dish for the first time so flatteringly praised this painfully simple recipe. And the family only painfully realized that this is the only thing that she knew how to cook. Other French dishes that often appeared on the family table, she ordered at her favorite restaurant.

***

No matter how cold-blooded a bitch Lea was trying to be, she felt that now she simply had to help a friend who seemed to be always there. In addition to the feeling of guilt for the words expressed in the heat of the quarrel, the girl decided to talk to the editor of the magazine.

— Is John in there? — Lea came to work off-shift and glanced at the big blue eyes of the pretty Secretary. Did he offer her sex too?

—Yes, what are you concerned about? — Brossard didn't even hear the rest of the question and stormed into the editor-in-chief's cold office. Only idiots could open a window in the fall, and one of them was sitting in front of her.

When Mr. Blythe saw Leia in the doorway, he gave Her a dirty grin and looked her up and down, licking his lips like a predator.

— I've already missed you.

— Hire Chris — Leia demanded in a harsh, cold tone that brooked no argument, but John's expression didn't change at all. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his sky-blue shirt, revealing pale, protruding collarbones, as if he were hot in this icy office.

— So, I didn't make a mistake, you were in the photo, - John closed his eyes and stretched his lips in a smile. — And Chris is your boyfriend, isn't he? Lea frowned.

— He's my neighbor, and it doesn't matter.

— Oh, trust me, this is a big deal in our little deal, — John said, raising his eyebrows as he beat a strange rhythm on his knee. The belt badge glittered in the sunlight that slid across his body.

— Tell me about it  — Lea took a step forward, and he abruptly grabbed her by the arm. All attempts to keep her balance were futile, and reluctantly the girl sat on his knee.

The smell of expensive perfume and cigarettes hit her nose — not the cheap ones she bought at the local corner store-but good, expensive cigarettes with a thick white filter and a pleasant aftertaste. After a moment, the guy put his hand on her back, running his hand along her spine and stopping at the edge of her t-shirt.

— If you want your neighbor Chris to work in my office, you know what you have to do, — John hissed into the back of his neck, his nose stroking the thin skin and his lips exploring each wreath.

— You have a mountain of silicone at the front Desk, cover girl, why do you need me? — Leia's voice trailed off. Close contact and a few confident and, unfortunately, pleasant touches took away all the ability to think clearly.

— Do you agree to my offer or not? — Brossard exhaled noisily. Having sex with an unpleasant guy for the sake of an ungrateful neighbor is a bad idea. But she wasn't doing it because of Chris. An image of Mrs. Morris, a beautiful woman and neighbor, came to mind, giving Leia advice and feeding her whenever She ran away from home. She loved her son very much, and the girl knew what a strong bond they had, so the answer to his question was obvious.

— Yes, — she said underneath her breath.

— What did you just say? — his breath tickled her ear. He could hear her answer perfectly, and she could feel the smile in his voice.

— I agree.

John began to trace a path of kisses from the neck to the shoulder of the girl, biting the skin somewhere in the area of the collarbone. Lea pursed her lips, trying to catch her breath.

— Close the door, — she said.

— Such a brave girl is afraid of being seen?"

John closed the door roughly. His brown eyes burned with desire. He walked over to Leia, who was sitting in his expensive leather chair. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it aside, and, taking the girl by the hips, sat her down on the table.

«A strong and independent hooker.»

Blythe bit into the full lips of Lea, who reluctantly returned his quick kiss, bit her lip, and pushed his tongue into the girl's mouth. Lea frowned in disgust at herself and this guy, but she knew that she could not escape her chosen fate, and she ran her fingers through the thick curly hair of the young man, pulling it back and forcing the guy to recoil.

«No one sees you more than as a sexual object!»

John took off the girl's black t-shirt and, covering her body with kisses, exploring it with his hands, pulled off her skirt and threw it somewhere to the side. Lea felt the appraising gaze of a predator that had found its new victim.

— God, you're gorgeous,— he breathes, and then he grabs her by the hips and heads toward the black leather sofa.

The young man loomed over Brossard, and her gaze fell on Blythe's freckled face, which was strewn across his sharp cheekbones in constellations. Leia's hands slid over John's taut abs as the thick leather belt clattered to the floor. Freeing both himself and Leia from unnecessary items of clothing, the guy abruptly entered the girl, spreading her pliable thighs.

«...hooker!»

John moved in a way that made Leia's vision darken and her head spin. She took deep breaths, but could not get enough oxygen to cope with the lack of breathing.

"...no one sees you more..."

Blythe didn't want to hurt her, but it was getting harder to control himself with each thrust. Moans came from lips that gasped for air. John abruptly changed the angle of the entrance, pinning the girl to the sofa. His hands were everywhere: at the bottom of her stomach, on her chest...

«hooker! ...a sex object!»

Heavy breathing, hoarse moans-all the sounds in the office merged in unison. Blythe bites into the girl's thin neck with a kiss, grabs her stomach, and with one deep penetration they both achieve release. Both breathing so heavy, like they ran ten miles on Blakan.

— Don't tell Chris that I asked him to take it. Just tell me you changed your mind, okay? — Lea asked, avoiding the gaze of the one she'd just given herself to, as she gathered her clothes from the floor.

— All right,— Blythe said, and fastened his seat belt with a slight movement.