#she cries and i have to take the abuse because i have to be the bigger person

[ikkan]

of course my mom is trying to guilt me into staying, by using her tears 😑

[starkidlabs]

Haha I should not have read my mums texts

[oozygutz]

man, i have so many thoughts about this game and i just.. AAGHHRGH.

mouthwashing calling out certain men, who wouldnt ever hurt a woman themselves, still holding onto friendships with abusive men and even dilute their horrible actions, is something i really appreciate from the story. while i think curlys intentions were good at heart and i think he truly felt terrible about what happened to anya, he still put jimmy and his friendship before her and suffered the consequences for not punishing him. really shows off how men can be biased towards each other in many different ways, not just the victim-blaming way.

while i totally understand that some might think curly not taking proper action dismisses anyas storyline, some even saying her being assaulted wasnt a necessary element and just there to add another reason to jimmy being terrible, its unfortunately very realistic for that to happen in the real world.

a woman being sexually abused in the workplace, she reports on it to her higher up, only for it to feel like her cries were left unheard because her abuser never got a proper punishment, instead he basically got a promotion in a twist of events. thats what makes her storyline so horrifying and so real.

at least thats how i interpreted it, i am simply an amateur when it comes to story analysis.

[herawell]

.

[hacash]

No, actually I'm not done with talking about Outie Mark and how well they've portrayed his grief on Severance, because the writers have done such a good job of showing that grief can be ugly and aggravating and painful and difficult to watch. Because Outie Mark isn't actually that fun to watch, a lot of the time! He's not soulful and romantic and dealing with his grief in a palatable manner: he's all hard edges and very dark humour! He cries loud and ugly! He picks fights! He's rude to his (admittedly aggravating) brother-in-law; he's a bit of a shit date to Alexa! He's very apathetic about what's going on at work, when quite frankly if he picked up the pace a little, we as the audience could find out more about what's going on! He has genuine substance abuse issues going on and spends a lot of his screentime just lying in a stupor in front of the TV! He's a compelling character but he's not fun to watch!

And I love how they've done this deliberately - I think the fact that at times the writers have been deliberately making Outie Mark deliberately hard to watch, at times because of his awkward humour and at times because he just is trying to avoid doing anything, and that's a deliberate choice because of his grief! The reason he takes so long to get shit done is because this man is literally paralysed by the grief he feels for his dead wife! He is so emotionally disconnected from the world that he spliced his brain clean in two to get away from the pain! He's choking on her ghost! Of course he's not eager to give himself the hope of believing she's alive only to go through that pain all over again!

(Also why the fuck did he of all people have to tell Gemma's students about her dying? Where the hell is that college's HR department.)

And it's not that Outie Mark is an unlikeable character, I'm really enjoying his arc at the moment, but I think they've made some really deliberate tweaks to show just what grief can do to someone and I am loving that they've deliberately made it ugly and painful to see.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[borathae]

Scents | JJK x f.Reader

“Life as Jungkook’s mate is everything you ever dreamed of. He is there for you, he keeps you safe, fulfills all your wishes and fucks you to complete satisfaction. Life as your mate is, well, it’s how Jungkook always imagined having a home feels like. Because his life as his father’s son isn’t easy, but with you by his side, it finally doesn’t hurt anymore. When one night, Jungkook comes home feeling like shit because of his father, you decide to show him that he can always count on you to be his comfort and his distraction.”

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolf!AU, True Mates!AU, Married Life!AU, Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: lots of plot <3, Kook is such a layered character omfg, his father is abusive fr, we hate him, she is there for him, scenting for comfort, he cries in front of her for the first time, this is just so :(, which means that the smut is gonna hit so hard, scene switch to morning, morning cuddles & slow kisses, he loves her i just want to say it again that he really loves her, he really does, the next ones are for the smut: needy Dom!Jungkook, service sub!Reader, she wants to make Him feel good for a change, adoration of his scent spots, which he never had done before so he is a goner, neck kisses, nipple licking & play, thigh kisses, biting, he has a big dick, oral sex (m.receiving), deep throating, rough face fucking, in my universe omegas can switch off their gag reflex, stimulation of his knot, she licks his balls too, lots of drool, and lots of slick, they do it on the window bench first where she kneels, then he carries her to bed and fucks her face while he stands, dirty talk & praise, pussy fingering & clit play while he face fucks her, choking (f.receiving), cum swallowing, rough hair pulling, multiple orgasms for both, very rough penetrative sex on the window sill from behind, exhibitionism kink cause yk window, squirting, subby girl tears, belly bulging, major breeding kink, creampies, they call each other "my omega" & "my Alpha", the softest & most loving aftercare, i want him so bad, also! he is a lot taller & stronger than her

Wordcount: 13.5k

a/n: you wanted more of alpha!koo, unaware that i was already working on a third installation because i want more of him too. i don’t think you even understand What he means to me like this story means so much to me and I’m so happy that so many of you love him as well <3 tbfh? there will definitely be more of him in the future but for now let us enjoy giving him the sloppiest head ever 💛 ps: i really need him to be my Alpha like-

You know from the sound of his bike that he was home. You drop the paint roller, which you were using before, to greet him by the door. You are currently redoing the living room so that it would feel homey. Jungkook told you that you can do whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy. It makes you really happy and you are practically skipping to the door to tell him all about your awesome day. 

You reached a point in your marriage where you get excited at the aspect of exchanging stories of your days with each other. Having Jungkook come home and listening to him tell you about his day is so exciting to you. In return, you can’t wait to share your day with him. Whatever this might mean in your development of feelings for him, seems positive to you. You definitely don’t want it to stop. 

You enter the hallway in sync with Jungkook. 

“There you are, I have so much to show-”

Bang! 

Jungkook coincidentally slams the door closed at the same time with you beginning your story. You stop abruptly, covering your ears instinctively. Loud noises scare you. They always have. Maybe it has something to do with your omega gen, but when something is loud, it means danger to you. 

Jungkook is huffing his air at first, but takes a moment of shocked gathering where he realises that he wasn’t alone. He lifts his eyes, studying you in a mixture of guilt and shock. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks you. 

“I don’t know”, you speak quietly, body smaller to keep yourself protected, “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” he is talking harsher than he normally does.

“Just so.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He throws the keys on the dresser and shrugs off his leather jacket. He slips off his boots and discards them on the rack. 

“Did something bad happen?” you ask him while your body is still trying to regulate itself from the loud noise. You feel shaken and jittery, despite being aware that you aren’t in actual danger. 

“When does anything good ever happen to me?”

Your heart stings in a funny way. Does this mean that this bond is terrible to him?

“Oh, uhm.”

He studies you, visibly regretting his poor choice of words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just. Fuck, I just need to be alone, I can’t do this right now”, he says and stomps past you to the cellar door.

He has a home gym down there. In which he very obviously disappears right now. He slams the cellar door closed and moments later, you can hear the downstairs speakers blast heavy metal music.

You feel helpless and clueless. In the end, you sit in the living room, unable to do anything because you are frozen. You wonder if it is something you did. Maybe he actually hates the home renovations and he finally had enough. Maybe you are being too clingy. Maybe you aren’t being clingy enough. Or maybe it has nothing to do with you. Whatever it might be, you can’t figure it out and so you are frozen.

You continue to sit frozen and helpless until Jungkook returns from the cellar an hour later. You know when he finally leaves because the music turns off and he stomps upstairs.

You are on your feet instantly, following him hastily as he hurries to the front door.

“Where are you going? Talk to me, what happened?”

“Leave me alone, you’re only making it worse.”

He is going to leave. You can’t let him do that. Not when you are so confused. 

“I’m worried. Is it something really bad?” 

You are outside. All he has to do is take these five steps and then he has the house – and you – behind him.

“Jungkook”, you round him on the steps, forcing him to stop.

He snarls in distaste, sending you a poisonous look. You don’t feel scared in his presence however, placing your hands on his upper arms. They are hot to the touch and his muscles are hard. As if his entire body is constantly tensing in anger. 

“Talk to me. What happened?” you stress, rubbing his flexed muscles in hopes of calming him down. 

“Well, what do you think happened? My dad happened”, he spits.

“Fuck, so I was right. What did he do?”

Two hours prior

Jungkook drags his heavy legs to the foot of his father’s throne. It would be really awesome if the throne was only a metaphor, but it wasn’t. His father quite literally sits on a throne, head held high and eyes lowered in judgement about his son’s state. Alphas normally don’t do that.

“It’s done, father”, the words come with difficulty for Jungkook. His ribs still ache from having them punched repeatedly. “The last of Urquard’s pack is gone. I did it. Ah, fuck.”

Exhaustion and a still healing leg drag Jungkook to his knees. He falls hard, pillowing his descent with his hands. Some of the omegas present instantly rush to help him, touching him on spots of his body to check for more wounds. Jungkook is heaving and panting, staring at the floor as he waits for the pain to pass. He should be used to it by now. He stopped counting how many times his father sent him past the walls to eradicate his enemies. They were never Jungkook’s enemies. If he was the Alpha, there wouldn’t even be any to begin with.

Jungkook should be used to the pain by now, but he isn’t. Just as he isn’t used to his father’s stone heart.

“Get up, boy. An Alpha doesn’t show weakness.”

His father never asked him if he was alright. He never did. Jungkook bites back his emotions, standing back up with the help of the omegas. He wipes the blood from his mouth, forcing his head to stop pounding.

“Forgive me, father. I guess being bit in the leg twice and then having your side scratched open does that to someone.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Be glad that your mother only bore you, otherwise I would have replaced you as my heir ages ago. Ungrateful brat.” 

“Are we done here? I’m exhausted.” 

“We are done once I tell you that we are done. And you fucking omegas stop touching my son!” 

The omegas flinch back, scurrying away from Jungkook as quickly as possible. He studies them with a tight face, shifting his eyes to his father afterwards. 

“I’d prefer it if you stopped talking to the pack like that.”

His father scowls, gripping the arm rests of the throne tightly, “what was that?”

“You heard me. You wanna be their Alpha? Treat them with respect. Please.”

“I am their Alpha!” His father yells. 

Jungkook should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t get easier. That’s his fucking dad and he is yelling at him. Why does shit like this hurt even after the millionth time?

“Why are you yelling at me? I was only making a suggestion.”

“Because you don’t get to suggest anything! You get to listen and behave!”

“You know. It hurts me when you yell at me. I wanna talk with you like normal people. Why can’t we? Just once, please dad.”

“Oh so now I’m the bad guy? Look at yourself first! If you didn’t turn out to be such a disappointment, I wouldn’t have to yell!” 

“I’m a disappointment?” Jungkook gasps, touching his aching chest. “I just killed ten wolves for you, dad. I do everything you ask of me. I take the pain no matter how much it hurts and I’m a disappointment?” 

“And yet you ended up bonding with an omega. If your mother was still alive, she would hate the view of you.”

“If mom was still alive she would tell you that you’re a major jerk!” Jungkook finally yells, spilling tears he doesn’t want his father to see. “And she would be happy for me! Mama always wanted to see me happy, she wouldn’t hate me!” 

His father jumps up and closes the distance to strike Jungkook across his face. Jungkook stumbles back, feeling disoriented for a few moments. It hurts, but not as much as it once did. His father is getting old and weaker.

“Don’t hit me. Why did you do that, dad?”

His father grabs his collar, lifting his hand in warning.

“You rather I use my claws?” he threatens.

“Go on. Do it”, Jungkook challenges through his angry tears. “It’s nothing I haven’t felt tonight. It’s nothing I keep feeling whenever I leave these walls to kill in your name. My hands are trenched in the blood of innocents while you sit on your throne, clean. You really think that your claws could damage me?”

His father scowls, flashing his eyes golden. Jungkook challenges him, eyes burning so much brighter. The truth has been out there for months. It is the reason why his father clings to his throne so obsessively, why he sends Jungkook on such deadly missions. He is losing his spot as the true Alpha. Dynamics in the pack are changing.

“I’m keeping the pack safe, father. Remember that. I’m the one who looks out for everyone. Like an Alpha should”, Jungkook challenges. 

His father growls, pushing him away to stumble back to his throne paranoid and blind in rage. 

“Go. I can’t look at you.”

The victory of tonight is Jungkook’s, but it leaves him empty. He doesn’t want to win, he wants a normal interaction with his dad that doesn’t leave him feeling drained and like shit. Fucking hell, he just wants a normal family. 

“Good night, father.”

Jungkook turns and leaves the throne room, holding is head high despite feeling as low as the fucking floor.

The now

“Urgh! I just”, Jungkook lets out and turns to slam his fist into the stone pillar. It crumbles at some parts under his strength and when he pulls back, bloody imprints of his knuckles are on the white stone.

“Jungkook, oh my god, you hurt yourself”, you gasp, trying to reach for his fist but before you can, he punches the pillar again.  

More crumbling and bloody prints.

“Stop it, you’re already bleeding.”

“If I don’t punch this fucking pillar, I’ll do something I’d regret. I’m so angry”, he growls and does it again.

“Stop it! This isn’t you!” 

“But it is”, Jungkook barks, whipping around to look into your eyes as he spits his words. “You’ve just never seen me like this. You’ve never seen me fucking angry.”

“No. No, you aren’t like this.”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me who I am. You have no idea who I am! How could you? If your deadbeat brother didn’t fuck up and I had to mark you, you never would have had to bond with me. You’re not in love with me, of course you don’t know me!”

You bite back tears.

“Don’t say that”, you get out quietly.

“I mean it. And, here is a little fact for you. This is me. I’m impulsive, I do stupid shit and explode in anger. This is me. So go ahead, push me away, call me a fucking dick. That’s just who I am.”

Your heart feels heavy, forcing you to whimper like a hurt puppy. Jungkook falters, taking a small step back.

“Leave me alone”, he says because he feels that pushing you away is all that he can do right now. 

You however don’t feel strong enough to leave. Behind all this anger and aggression, behind every brick he breaks, you can smell the hurt and insecurity he is currently feeling. He might hide it behind violence, but you are his true mate and an omega. All you can smell is that he feels like an anxious pup pushed into a corner, desperate for care and a helping hand.

“I said leave”, he stresses.

“No.” 

“Yes.”

You shake your head and step closer.

“Go! Before I use it.”

He is talking about his Alpha voice. It is a voice which will force any beta or omega into instant subordination and agreement. Any good natured, kind Alpha rarely uses this voice because of how much it feels like an abuse of power. Other, less kind, Alphas find joy in making their pack obey this way. Urquard was one of those Alphas. You know Jungkook, you know the kind heart and gentle soul he hides behind  his tough exterior. He would never use his Alpha voice. Especially not on you. 

This is just a desperate, empty threat. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone in this.” 

“Well, you have to because I’m telling you. With, with my voice. Go.” 

You close the last distance and pull him down to you.

“I said leave”, Jungkook insists panickedly, body tense. 

You rub your nose into the scent spot on his neck, hoping to spread some of your relaxing scent this way. He reeks of anxiety and guilt right now. 

Jungkook tries to protest again, fight you off and not appear weak, but you are very powerful in your attempts of calming him down, breaking him within a minute. 

“Why are you doing this?” he sighs out and hugs you, melting with you and revealing more of his neck to you. It feels so good. In no way in a sexual manner, but emotionally and physically and in some way also spiritually. 

Jungkook felt all over the place. He felt out of balance, without footing or a destination. He felt betrayed and hurt, but also anxious and insecure. It was eating him alive and all of a sudden, it is gone. All of it. It is just gone. And it’s all you. His head is quiet, his heart feels light and his stomach stopped twisting. He is free. And he is home. 

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, right where your scent spot lies, and inhales deeply. He cradles you against him, strong hand on the back of your head and eyes closed. 

He exhales, shedding his heart of today’s burdens.

“I’m here now, Koo”, you whisper, playing with his hair slowly.

He never felt such relief before. Nor has he ever experienced such comfort. It goes so deep and feels so real. Jungkook wonders how he was able to get through life for so long without you. 

Sighing deeply in relief, he pulls you closer and puts his hands under your jumper so he can feel your skin. Warm and soft. You seem to melt closer from the touch, which only calms him down more.

It is a quiet moment as you and he stand on the porch and let the day finally stop bothering you. You and he aren’t aware yet that you are visible to anyone who could walk by your home, but if you were, you wouldn’t care. Let the world see that you and he found meaning in this once forced bond. Let them see what it means to be mates. And let his dumb father see that a bond between an omega and an alpha actually works. 

You change sides of his neck, wanting to make sure that he smells your scent equally. You stop by his lips as you make your way to it, having your eyes closed and resting your forehead against his’. He has his eyes closed as well, breathing slowly. Kisses are exchanged in the slowest rhythm ever. It is meditative. There is nothing else to him right now than you and what you are doing to him. Whenever he breathes in, it feels as if the air is filling literally every single fibre in his body. And when he breathes out, it feels as if he is ridding himself of toxins. He was never as aware of his energy flow than he is right now, breathing with you and sharing kisses. He can feel it coursing through him, mixing with your energy until it feels as if he is glowing from the inside out. And then you reach the other side of his neck, you nuzzle him and give him soft kisses and Jungkook feels invincible. 

His head rolls back in defeat, he sinks into you for just a second before his bodily instincts kick in again.

“Sorry, almost lost it”, he whispers, dragging his words.

“It’s okay. Should we go inside?”

“Yeah, let’s do that”, he says and picks you up with his hands under your butt.

Your legs instinctively close around his waist, your arms hug him. You keep your nose in his neck, getting droopy in his warm, relaxed scent. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see me like this. And I’m sorry for all the things I said. I didn’t mean them.”

“It’s okay. I get it. You have every right to be as upset as you were. I just, I don’t want you to think that this is who you are. You’re not aggressive or impulsive. I know you. You’re strong and kind and really sweet.”

“Thanks.”

“And your mom would be proud of who you became.”

He stops in his steps, looking up at you with glassy eyes. You cradle his cheeks.

“I remember when she would make us picnic baskets and call you home when it was dark out. She loved you so much. I know how she was. She would still love you and she would be happy for you.” 

He presses his eyes closed, spilling tears he doesn’t want to spill. He curses, showing his fangs in a desperate snarl to control his emotions.

“It’s okay, I’m here”, you whisper, nuzzling his scent spot again.

Jungkook stumbles to the entrance hall dresser and sits you down on it, holding you oh so close. 

“Holy fuck”, he croaks out.

“I know, I’m here. Right here.”

Jungkook got used to the feeling of grief in his chest. He learned that it will always be there and learned how to live with it. It doesn’t mean that it ever stopped bleeding. You stop it right now. It doesn’t feel like a gushing open wound in his chest. It is there, but it is bearable, as if he can finally carry it in his hands without cutting himself. 

And it is all you. You make it bearable, you keep him in this warm, healing space. 

“Thank you”, he whispers, “my mama would love you so much if she was still here.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure that she would tease you about how it happened though.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook laughs, covering up a sob with it.

You laugh with him, changing sides of his neck to make sure that he gets your soothing scent equally.

“Yeah, she would. But she would be happy for us. Mama always wanted me to bond out of love and I did.” He looks at your face. “I don’t ever wanna let you go. I can’t believe I lived without you for so long.”

You fluster, “wow, I don’t know what to say. I just…wow.”

“Don’t say anything. Just know that you’re the most amazing person ever.” 

“Shut up, don’t say that”, you mumble, nudging his chest and avoiding eye contact in nervousness.

He laughs, picking you up in his arms to get you closer. You snicker, holding him tightly. 

You and he fall asleep holding each other that night. Jungkook sleeps through the entire night, which he never did after past arguments with his father.

Jungkook wakes after you the next morning. Your side is empty and cold. He peels his heavy eyes open, shifting them to where you disappeared off to. 

The window bench, lost in a book and with your face still puffy from sleep. The rising sun is illuminating you. Jungkook swears that he is seeing an angel when he looks at you. His heart flutters and his stomach tingles. He has such immense feelings for you and seeing you be so utterly you only strengthens them.

“Good morning”, he murmurs sleepily. His cheek is squished on the pillow, his back peeks out from the blanket because he is lying on his stomach.

You lower the book at the sound of his voice, looking at him. He is smiling at you.

“Hey, good morning.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“I had to pee and then I saw the book and yeah, it was over for my sleepiness.”

“Mhm, whatever it was, get back here now”, he lulls and rolls to his side so he can open the blanket for you.

Your bedroom in the morning is really chilly because the timer for the heater hasn’t turned on yet. He smells so warm under the blanket. His invitation is incredibly easy to take. 

You put the book aside and hurry back to bed, climbing under the blanket. It is warmed up from him.

Jungkook purrs in contentment, pulling you against his chest and into his arms. He hides his nose in the crook of your neck, tickling your skin as he sniffles sleepily. 

“Mhm, my favourite smell”, he whispers, snuggling closer.

You still haven’t gotten used to being cared for in such ways. Of course you had boyfriends who were in love with you, but none of it felt like Jungkook’s affection feels. 

His affection feels so deep, so real and so eternal. As if nothing could ever change it. As if all he ever wanted to do was love you. It is unfamiliar but nice. So nice. 

The sun wanders over the horizon while his fingers wander over your arm and his lips take small steps on your neck. Your once chilly body heats up under the blanket and because of his incredibly warm body. It is such a cozy state to be in that you are fighting gravity with your eyelids.

He exhales deeply.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him.

“Just living in the moment. I feel like shit, but it’s, I don’t know, bearable like this...” He traces your side, mouthing at your neck as he talks. “...with you in my arms…so warm and soft.” He slips his hand under your shirt, touching your skin most tentatively. “My life’s bearable like this.” 

His words and gestures are sweet and filled with relaxation, but you can’t help still feel a twinge of sadness for him. If only you knew that behind the elitist, distant façade he put on, a deeply complex and troubled person was hiding. Perhaps you wouldn’t have hated him so deeply.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but still. I could have made the first step too, maybe tried to fix our friendship. I thought that you felt like you’re better than anyone and therefore didn’t want to hang with us anymore. If I knew what you were going through, I…I just feel guilty. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you.” 

“Don’t be. I fucked it up, we grew up and thought that the other moved on. Of course I missed you, but I didn’t blame you.”

“Yeah well, I’m here now if you wanna talk.” 

Jungkook kisses your neck gently, whispering his words, “I’m gonna be okay. That’s just how my dad is. It’s okay.”

You keep quiet, but hold him closer. No kid should have to defend their own parents like that. But you also understand him. His father is the only kin Jungkook has left. If he cut him off, the last reminder of his once happy family dies right with it.

“But this is nice”, Jungkook says and shifts so he can kiss your cheek. He purrs and lifts his head to give you a smile, caressing your temple. 

You retort it, but apparently do such a bad job at it that he furrows his brows in worry.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“No, something’s up. Tell me.”

“I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”

He falters, looking to the side.

“Uhm, it’s fine. Thank you”, he says and sits up, “seriously, it’s fine.”

You sit up, closing the distance to hug his waist and kiss his shoulder. Jungkook places his hands over yours, leaning back into you. 

“If there is something I can do, just tell me”, you offer, rubbing his stomach and chest slowly, “I’m here for you from now on.” 

“Just be you. That’s all I need from you.” He takes your left hand and guides it to his lips. “Just be you.” He kisses the wedding band on your ring finger, resting his nose against it afterwards. “You bring me so much peace.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah”, he smiles to himself and squeezes your hands, “now I really gotta go. I need to shower because I feel like I stink.”

“No, you smell so good.”

“Thanks, but I still need to go.”

You get the sense that he needs this. Emotionally. That he needs this shower to leave yesterday truly behind him, watching it metaphorically run down the drain as he washes it off of him. So you let him.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be here when you come back. Today’s a lazy day, don’t wanna leave the bedroom.”

“I’m taking your words for it.”

And with that, he leaves for a shower while you sink back into the pillow. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking. 

You have wonderful parents. Of course they have their flaws and made mistakes like any parent does, but they love you. And you love them. You would describe your relationship with them as healthy. So you don’t have any first hand experiences of bad parents like Jungkook does. 

It doesn’t make your understanding and shared pain for his situation any less however. It hurts you to know that his father manages to hit him so deeply that Jungkook still recovers from it one day later. You make a promise to yourself that morning to be the shoulder he can always lean on. Because that’s what best friends are here for, that’s what mates do. 

For the rest of Jungkook’s shower, you think of him and everything you have already experienced together in your short time as mates.

Jungkook forgot to bring his briefs to the bathroom with him, joining you in the bedroom in nothing but his towel. Snug around his hips, it reaches him a little under his knees. His hair is freshly washed and blow dried. His torso is bare and dried off. You are sitting on the window bench, clearly waiting for him, when he joins you. 

The view of him instantly shoots warmth between your legs. It is instinct. You can’t help it. Especially when you woke up not that long ago and you are still so warm from being held. 

“Hey there, baby”, he greets you, making his way to his closet.

“Hey.” 

“Why are you sitting over there again?” he asks you, busy with picking out briefs. “Is the book that good?”

“No I uhm. I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking, baby?” 

You stand up and close the distance. Jungkook turns to you, giving you his full attention and his hands when you take them. The briefs are forgotten again. You lead him to the window bench. 

“I was thinking, you had a bad day yesterday and you still have a sucky morning and maybe I could make it better.”

“You already did. The thing you did yesterday was amazing. I haven’t slept that well in, like, basically ever. I feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah well, what if I do something else amazing too?” 

“I don’t seem to follow.”

You sit him down. Jungkook looks up at you because you are standing and therefore are taller than him. But there is no ounce of power shift in your dynamic. He might be looking up at you right now, but you still feel so utterly submissive to him. It is nice because it is safe and feels like home. He puts his hands on your waist, talking in a warm yet raspy voice.

“And what’s that something else supposed to be?” 

“Please don’t judge me. Promise.”

“I promise. Now tell me. Come on baby, don’t make me work for it”, he encourages you, rubbing slow circles into your lower back. He slipped his hands under your sleep shirt, so his current touch is addicting. So warm and raw. You could honestly melt in his hands once he gets you started.

You put your hands on his strong shoulders and take a deep breath to gather your courage. You make your confession as you breathe out.

“Can I give you a blowjob?” 

Jungkook gawks with widened eyes, giving you his answer in the form of shocked silence. It makes you nervous and so you shift from one foot to the other.

“Please say something”, you whisper.

“Why on earth did you think that I would judge you for this?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I-I know it’s a lot of me to ask and kinda insensitive. Oh god, is it insensitive? I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean-”

He silences your nervous babbling by cupping your cheek and pulling you down into a kiss. Your knees buckle instantly, the electric pull he has on you, tugs you on top of his lap. A small moan escapes you when his hands instinctively grab your ass and squeeze. The touch is so tender and possessive. It feels so good. Honestly, you would have started to kiss him until your lips were tired if he didn’t break the kiss to talk.

“Don’t apologise. Yes, baby?”

You nod your head, whispering a shy “yes.”

“Yes. That’s good.” He gives you a sweet smile, running his strong hands to your waist. “You’d actually want to blow me?”

You nod your head. 

“Kook, I missed you”, you confess and rest your forehead against his’. 

Jungkook chases the affection, sliding his hands into your pants and back to your ass to squeeze it gently.

“You missed me?” he whispers, letting you taste his minty breath while his fingers drive you just a little bit insane.

“Yeah, when you were in the shower, I missed you. I, I thought of us and my life and how awesome it is to be your mate and then I thought of the sex we’re having and how good you always make me feel.”

“I do. That’s so important to me, baby”, he rasps, kneading your soft buttocks. His touch is needy. He can’t deny it. Feeling your naked skin under his fingertips after such a yesterday is healing him as much as it turns him on. His instincts tell him to get you naked and fuck you until his anger is gone. His love for you tells him to take it slow and really saviour the current moment. As always, the latter wins. It will always win when it comes to you.

“And then I thought about all the things we haven’t done yet. And I never gave you head before and I…” you exhale shakily, giving his shoulders a needy squeeze, “Koo, I really need to have your cock in my mouth. Please can I make the bad yesterday go away? A-and maybe make this morning nice?” 

“Yes, holy fuck, of course you can”, he breathes out, pulling you against his body and claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. 

You almost fall sweet victim to it, but stop yourself before that can happen, breaking the kiss.

He purrs, chasing you. 

“You have to tell me what to do. I really suck at taking the lead”, you confess, giving him shy puppy eyes.

He chuckles, “I can do that. What if I tell you to surprise me? Mhm? That you have free range of my body and I want you to surprise me?” 

He takes your hands and begins guiding them over his bared torso. 

You follow the touch with your eyes, heart racing and breath speeding up. 

“You can touch me wherever you want to.” He makes you trace his pecs. “Feel me up.” He guides your fingers over his ribs. “Turn me on”, he purrs and drags your fingers through the ridges of his impressive abs.

“Kook”, you moan, writhing on his lap. You are soaking through your shorts by now, getting it all over his towel as well. The morning sun shines so beautifully on his skin, really bringing out how muscular he actually is. And just how sun kissed his skin is.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. Why? Because that’s what I’m ordering you to do”, he says, making you trace the glimpses of his pubes sticking out from the towel.

“Oh god”, you whimper, salivating to the point of barely containing it.

“Is this something you can do for me, baby? Can you be my good omega and surprise me?”

“Yes, I can do that”, you press out, voice quivering in excitement. You gulp down your saliva hungrily, spilling some down your chin. You can’t help it. Your body is preparing for his cock in your mouth and it is such a turn on for you.

“Look at you.” He wipes the drool for you. “Does it turn you on to follow my commands?” 

“Yeah, so much. Koo, I want to kiss your chest. Please.”

“Do whatever you want. I’m all yours, baby.” 

“Oh god”, you get out and begin. You can barely breathe. You are so nervous. This is such unexplored terrain for you. Being the one to touch and kiss is new to you. Normally you are the one receiving, but something about Jungkook makes you want to give. It still doesn’t take away the fact that you have no idea how to give. 

His neck first. This is familiar to you and gives you the needed confidence boost. It also really turns you on because his scent spots smell more and more like arousal. It is such a masculine scent, more lethal than any cologne could ever be. Sitting on his lap feels so good as you kiss and suck his neck.

Jungkook is in heaven, eyes closed sensually and body feeling weightless. Your mouth feels amazing on his scent spots, giving him the most intense tingles. It’s different this morning than it was yesterday. The deepest feelings you communicate are still to relax, but the intention is something else. This is meant to relax him so he can take the pleasure you are about to give him without any stresses in his head. And it’s working. Jungkook feels fucking droopy. 

Soon you have enough confidence to take on an unfamiliar path. Down along his collarbones to his chest. Jungkooktakes his hands off your body and puts them behind himself so he can lean back a little. 

You have better access like this, using your fingertips to get used to the unfamiliar paths. Up close like this, his strength is so noticeable. Shit, you are so into him. Feeling a little crazy, you grace your teeth over his skin. Jungkook purrs, pecs twitching as he tenses them in reaction to your bite. 

You shy away instantly, sitting up and covering your mouth behind your hands.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook tries not to show his disappointment, but you still see it. It increases your shyness. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

“Why are you sorry, sweetie?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“I just haven’t done this before. Do you even like this?”

“Yes, baby I do. I like it too when I get some loving.”

“Oh.” You squirm on his lap. “This is hot. Do you really like it?”

“I do. It’s nice to lean back and really enjoy it for once.”

“Oh wow, Kook. Okay, this is so hot”, you confess and close the distance. His confession motivates you. It isn’t weird for him to receive as a change. He likes it. It turns him on. 

Dripping pleasure on his lap, you kiss and bite his chest with new found confidence. And Jungkook reacts in deep purrs and tenses of his pecs. His head is rolled back and his eyes are closed. He is utterly lost to the touches, turning you on with his scent and sounds. 

It isn’t long after, that you feel brave enough to take the next step. You take his nipple between your teeth and tug.

“Yeah…fuck” he cups the back of your head, arching into your mouth, “good girl, that’s amazing.” 

His praise makes you shudder. You drool and whimper as you kiss a path to his other nipple to repeat what you did. Suck, lick, bite and tug.

“Yes baby, yes”, Jungkook lulls, petting you in motivation. 

Change sides again. Maybe tug a little harder. Jungkook moans. Change sides. More confidence. Jungkook growls and closes his fingers around your hair. 

“You’re driving me insane”, he gets out under his breath, fighting for his air in deep pants afterwards. 

You have to look at him, kiss him and taste his moans. The kiss starts sloppily. Jungkook feeds you his tongue instantly, holding your hair possessively while his other hand rubs your soaked cunt over your shorts. This is his version of rewarding you for being such a good omega and it makes you mewl into his mouth unapologetically. 

“Koo, I’m so horny”, you confess. 

“Me too, baby. Wanna do disgusting things to you”, he says, giving your swollen clit an especially good rub.

You tremble, giving him your neediest puppy eyes. 

“But you’re not done. Give me more, baby”, he orders and takes his touch away. 

“Oh god.”

It hurts to be denied, but you aren’t sad about it. Being denied means that you can explore him more and you found your new obsession for it. You slip off his lap and kneel down between his legs. He spreads them for you in such a sexy way. With a needy moan, you connect your puffy lips with his upper stomach. You grab his sides, tingling when you can feel him tense up and later shiver. 

“Yeah, holy fuck…” Jungkook moans, rolling his head back and closing his eyes.

You mewl, drooling like crazy. His stomach is so sculpted and strong. Each new inch you explore, you kiss and lick and bite, makes you feel subbier and subbier. He is so strong and you get to worship him. Oh god, this is so hot.

“Keep going, fuck, so good…”

Jungkook gets pleasure through pleasing. This is what he thought was in his nature. This is what an Alpha is supposed to do. Please, give, touch. Jungkook thought that this is what he is supposed to enjoy. 

What you are currently doing, is rewriting his definition of wrong and right. Nothing which is “wrong” feels this fucking good. He is meant to get some loving too. And getting your loving is everything he ever needed.

It makes him desperate in ways which were still unknown to him. As a matter of fact, they get him so needy that he gives you his version of a beg when you finally reach his lower stomach. You are nuzzled into his faint happy trail when he begs.

“Fucking hell, if you don’t take off my towel soon and take care of It, Imma lose my fucking mind.”

You mewl something unintelligible, speeding up in your needy licks. Your hands follow his command while your mouth takes his exposed state to explore his scent spots. 

“Fuck. Woah”, Jungkook gasps, hands falling to your head and legs shaking in surprise. 

“Kook, oh my god. You smell so good”, you whimper, rubbing your face into his inner thighs. You need his scent all over you. 

“Baby, I’m serious. I’ll lose my mind, fuck. Ah fuck”, Jungkook warns, head pounding and cock aching. So this is how it feels to have his scent spots stimulated. No wonder that he regularly forces you into impromptu heat when he does it to you. All Jungkook can think about right now is rutting into you, knotting you and breeding you with his cum until he is alive inside you. The desire gets stronger and stronger and stronger and then it suddenly gets replaced by a new desire. The desire to fuck your pretty face until you are fed a full course meal of cum. 

The reason for his change of mood is your tongue licking his balls vigorously while your hands rub his scent spots. You keen needily as you do it.

Jungkook growls, tugging you away from him by a bundle of your hair. You mewl, gasping for air because of his strong grip.

“Stop teasing me or I’ll punish you”, he growls, but adds in the most loving and soft voice, “okay, baby? Do it for me.”

“Yes, Alpha”, you mewl and lower your head. You give his scent spots a bite each, then finally pay attention to his cock.

You dance a wet path from his balls to his swollen base up to his heated tip with your tongue, wrapping both hands around his base afterwards.

“___ baby…”

Jungkook watches you as you sink him in. Your lips look so good stretching around his girth. His head is pounding. This is the sexiest thing which ever happened to him.

“There we go, take in me”, he praises you, caressing your cheek gently. “What a good omega you are.”

You whimper, sucking on his tip vigorously.

Jungkook frowns, “urgh fucking intense. Yeah that’s it, baby. Suck me off.” 

Drool runs down his shaft, messying your fingers. You use it to your advantage, jerking off his base with it.

“Fuck, so good. Do you like? Mhm, does Alpha taste good, baby?” Jungkook lulls, vision just a little blurry because you suck him off really fucking hard.

You slip off of him, voice quivering as you answer him.

“Alpha tastes so good. Thank you, ah, so much”, you get out, shaking with your entire body. Of course you love it. Your dream is coming true. You get to taste your Alpha’s cock. Your need for him is unbearable. 

You open wide and take him in completely. Your nose hits his crotch, your lips feel his balls.

“Woah. Wait”, Jungkook gasps, stopping you instantly. He even pulls you off of him.

“What?” you ask him, looking up at him with needy eyes.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Force all of me inside. I know I said to stop teasing, but I didn’t mean it like that. You can stay at the tip. You don’t have to push yourself.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you don’t have to make yourself gag for me.”

You widen your eyes in shock, staying silent long enough for Jungkook to become a little nervous.

“What?” he stresses.

“Did you…never get head from an omega before?”

“Why…is this so bad?” 

“No, it’s not. It’s just that…can I show you?”

“Sure?” he sounds unsure, but that’s okay, he will feel amazing in one, two, three. 

Jungkook gasps and tenses up, face falling in utter shock as you take him in completely and instantly start bopping your head up and down quickly.

“Woah, woah, woah. Woah. Fuck, wait. Woah.” 

He somehow manages to pull you off of him again. His cock slaps his abs, leaving a mess of spit and his pleasure. It throbs, begging to be taken in again.

“What was that?” he breathes out, pupils blown out and eyes glowing golden.

“Did you not like it?” 

“You didn’t gag.”

“We, uhm, omegas, you know, we can switch it off.”

“You can?!”

“Yeah, we can. When we’re with someone we really like, it happens automatically and I…” You nuzzle your nose into his scent spot, kissing it a few times before looking up at him. “I didn’t have to switch it off with you.”

“Wait. Oh my god, wait. Does that mean?”

“Yeah, I guess I really like you, Koo.”

“Baby, I’m. Wait, don’t make me get emotional, I-” He cups you cheek. “Baby, my love. Oh my god, my love.”

You giggle, “yeah, I guess it’s out there”, you say and take him back inside. 

“Yeah..it’s out there. Fuck, woah”, Jungkook croaks out and rolls his head back, burying his hand in your hair as deeply as your texture allows it as your warm mouth engulfs him entirely. He twists it a little, having to moan your name as you make him experience pleasure he never felt before.

You moan right with him, having to grasp his waist for support. You need it because it’s very difficult not to lose yourself.

Giving head for an omega is different than for others of the pack. Giving head has an almost drug-like effect on an omega, leaving it delirious and ecstatic. If the person they are giving head to is another omega or a beta, the effect is mild and an omega can easily go back to being normal afterwards. If the person is someone with the Alpha gen, it is a different story. 

Being close to an Alpha’s scent spots, tasting their pleasure and essentially getting bred in one way or another, bring the omega into a state of disillusion and an inability to think for themselves.

In the most disgusting and twisted circles of the werewolf community, evil Alphas use this to get disobedient omegas back under their control. The details of how such cruel acts happen will not be disclosed here, but trust, dear reader, that it is rarely gentle or consensual.

But Jungkook isn’t such an Alpha. Jungkook is kind and loving and gentle beyond anything else. And Jungkook is your true mate, which means that you have even less control over the effects his cock has on you.

You are so greedy for more, clawing at his waist to desperately get more of him inside. You mewl and sob as you do, barely breathing.

“Breathe, my love. Breathe”, Jungkook orders you, despite being so far gone. Because he is a loving Alpha. Because he knows how to make you feel safe. 

Your body obeys his orders because you currently are under his control and fighting your instincts is impossible. You breathe and breathe and breathe. Then get too greedy again. 

His base is starting to swell. Just a little bit. You wrap your left hand around his flushed tip to jerk it off while you connect your messy mouth with his growing knot. You tongue kiss the area sloppily, adding sucks to it as well. An Alpha’s knot is just as sensitive as his cockhead is. Perhaps even a little bit more sensitive. 

“___, holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out, actually closing his legs on you because of how good this feels. He moans loudly, throwing his head back to the point where he loses balance and drops into the pillows. 

He throws his left arm over his own eyes, moaning like a fucking pornstar while the morning sun shines onto his glowing face. He can feel his knot grow. It’s you who does this to him because of how good you make it feel.

“Baby, please don’t stop”, he actually begs, rolling his hips desperately to keep the stimulation going.

“Koo, I’m yours”, you get out and sink him back inside. His knot hinders you from deep throating him, but this doesn’t stop you. You wrap both your hands around his knots, jerking it off in circular motions while your mouth takes care of the rest. 

Jungkook writhes, voice pitching because of how honestly ruined you get him. His hands flail around for a little while, finding their support on the edge of the window bench. He grips it. Which is something totally new to him. He never had to grip something for support before. Especially not the edge of something. He feels like a fucking whore.

“Please don’t stop, it feels so good”, he gets out, squeezing the edge harder. 

Which honestly? It isn’t all that bad to feel this way because you give him so much pleasure. The kind of pleasure he swears should be illegal for an Alpha to feel.

Can people see him? He’s got windows all around him and the sun illuminates him like he is a fucking star. Can people see him? Can they see how the future Alpha of the pack is getting sucked off? Are they fucking jealous of their Alpha? Because he’s got the best wife and they don’t?

“Shit urgh”, he arches his back at the thought of people passing by and jealously watching their future Alpha get head, “don’t stop, holy fuck. Sweetie. I feel fucking high. Aaaahmmm.”

You couldn’t stop even if someone tried to drag you off of him. Jungkook’s constant begs not to stop manifest themselves in your drugged mind as little orders. Don’t stop. Alpha wants more. Don’t stop. You can’t stop even if someone tried to drag you off of him and it’s sacrilegious to you. 

You don’t want to stop. His taste is heaven. His scent is overwhelming. You have never smelled so much fucking pleasure on him. It’s making you even droopier.

“Yes baby, yes. My good omega. My fucking pretty omega”, Jungkook growls, sending you deeper into your delirious headspace.

Oh my god, you fucking love being his good omega. You sob around him, spilling tears. You love being his omega. You love it. You love it. You love it.

Trapped in your ecstatic omega space, you didn’t realise how much sloppier you became with your blowjob until Jungkook’s right hand in your hair lets you know. 

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, he gets out, tensing his stomach.

You mewl, shaking more than he does. You need his high. You need it so fucking bad. You suck him off harder, speeding up your hands around his throbbing knot. Please. You need him.

“Now, baby. ___ baby, now!” Jungkook tries to warn you but to no avail. He climaxes down your throat in thick spurts of his seed, gripping your head with both hands to rut up into you. 

He hits the back of your throat like this, really testing your jaw. Not that you mind. You are so drugged that he could do anything to you and you wouldn’t mind. All you can take in is hot cum down your throat and the ecstatic effect it has on you.

Jungkook comes down after seven thrusts, growling demonically and pulling you off. If he didn’t, his instincts would have kicked in and he would have hurt you. Your mouth is not your cunt. He can’t breed it like he could your pussy. He has to be stronger than his instincts. 

Using his abs, he sits up. His thighs are still twitching.

“Come up here you”, he orders you in a lull, pulling you to your feet and into a sloppy kiss. 

You fall on top of his lap, feeling limp in his arms. Like a little doll unable to use her muscles. Jungkook holds you safely, licking his cum out of your mouth. Tears mix with your drool and his cum. Jungkook instantly tastes them, breaking the kiss in worry. 

A mixture of drool and creamy cum seeps out your mouth, your cheeks are wet in tears. You whimper, desperately trying to get him to kiss you again. You can’t open your eyes, looking so goddamn intoxicated.

“Did I hurt you, sweetie? Is this why you’re crying?”

He can see from the way you move and your face is, that you are currently non verbal in submission. He instinctively knows that he could either break you right now or fix you up depending on how he will use this power.

“Arms up, baby.”

Your body obeys. He takes off your sleep shirt, pressing you against his chest like this. 

Naked skin and naked skin, he begins moving you and him in a slow grind. Your scent spots rub against his’, exchanging not only pleasure but also comfort. It slowly brings you back to him and Jungkook knows that, holding you through it. 

His knot shrinks again in the time, but his cock stays swollen. The situation you and he are in is too sensual and intimate for him to grow soft. His utmost desire still lies in breeding you. Oh, how he wants to breed you, his perfect omega. His. All his.

“Mine. You’re mine. You know that, mhm? You’re my pretty omega. Just mine.” 

“Yours”, you get out. 

“Hey baby, you’re back”, Jungkook breathes and lifts your head by cupping your cheek. “How are you doing? I was a little rough at the end. Is your jaw okay?”

“Yeah ‘s okay. I want more, but it’s so hard to move.”

“I know, baby. Do you trust me?”

You nod your head, leaning into his palm.

“Alpha is safe”, you lull, sending his heart into overdrive. He’s got you feeling safe. Fuck, he would set the whole world on fire if it meant you kept feeling like this.

“Thank you for your trust, baby. Now let me kiss you. You fucking ruined me”, he says and pulls you into a kiss, which you eagerly retort.

He moans deeply, picking you up while his tongue licks onto your mouth. It is like he is starving, like his own taste on your tongue is a drug to him. You moan just as much, writhing in his strong arms.

He carries you to bed like this. Kissing you as if he was starving. He lies you down by the edge of it, breaking the kiss when your head is tangling over the edge. He climbs off bed and rounds you so you have a view of him and his heavy cock between his fingers. He looks so big and veiny like this, forcing drool to the tip of your tongue. You sigh his name, opening and closing your mouth in hunger. You need him so bad.

“Tap your foot if you had enough”, he says and connects his leaking tip with your chin to drag it to your lips. “Now open up.”

You obey gladly, gurgling in ecstasy when Jungkook sinks his leaking cock back into your mouth. 

“That’s it. Take all of me”, he purrs, caressing your cheeks. His eyes are dark, lowered sexily as he gazes down at you. “So beautiful, taking me like this. Is it nice for you?”

You moan around him, nodding your head as best as possible. This is heaven. He fills you out so well. You could honestly orgasm with your throat because of how good it feels. 

“Fuck, it does…fuck, you drive me insane”, he rasps and picks up a rhythm. Finally. Fucking finally. 

You whimper, eyes instantly rolling back and jaw going slack. This is your heaven. This is everything you ever wanted. 

Jungkook watches your blissed reaction with a tingling stomach. He mewls, scrunching his nose and biting his lower lip at the same time. You are so beautiful, turning him on like no one else ever did. Quite frankly, Jungkook wasn’t even aware of how hard his cock can actually get. But being inside you like this, is showing him new sides of pleasure.

“This is so sexy, you have no idea”, he confesses, caressing your soft cheeks, “I’m making love to your face. It’s..hah it’s heaven, seriously.”

You whimper around him, reaching up behind you to touch him. You need to hold him, digging your fingers into the softness of his butt. It forces him to go even deeper, making him moan from the deepest parts of his stomach. He gasps afterwards, abs rippling and thighs twitching.

“Wow. Fuck. Holy fuck, wow”, he lets out, scrunching his face even harder. “So deep. What the fuck, wow.”

You moan with him, spilling tears of joy. He is right, he is so deep. So deep that you can feel his pubes tickle your nose and so deep that you drown in his masculine scent. Your body quivers, throat convulsing around his girth. You scratch down his butt against your will, stopping only when you have his thighs between your claws instead. So tensed and so big. It motivates you to take him even deeper. You lift your head as best as possible, bopping it back and forth on his cock.

“Fuck, your throat…it’s bulging so nicely, I just wanna…” he trails off, ghosting his thumbs over it as if he wanted to choke you. He doesn’t give in, not wanting to hurt you or go too far. 

You however want him to continue. You want him to steal your air and make you his’ in any way possible. You grasp his hands and pull them into place, doing the job for him. 

“___”, your name leaves him in a deep growl, cock throbbing in your tight throat. His strong hand closes around it, forcing it to tighten even more. 

You wail, clasping his lower arms with your claws exposed. 

“You’re so tight. Holy fuck, look at you taking me. Fuck. I can feel myself. Shit, baby. This is so hot”, he is babbling, which is new for him. It is insanely hot, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Air is sparse like this and you want it. You want to choke on his cock. You need it. You need to feel every second of it entering your mouth, every inch of throat he bulges, every tender spot appearing on your neck as he chokes it. 

You feel so high and satisfied and yet at the same time, you ache. You ache for more of him, wishing for something of him to fill you more. And more. More. 

“If you keep moving your hips like that baby, Imma think you’re tryna make me jealous with the air. Why you humping it, hmh?” Jungkook lulls his words, switching his hungry gaze between your fucked face and your needy hips.

You mewl, writhing. You can’t do it. He is tightening his grip on you, burying his thick cock deeper. His balls slap your face as he fucks it, his scent is making you foggy. And now he is teasing you. 

You can’t take it anymore, slipping your hand between your legs to take away the pain. You whimper around him, choking oh so sloppily as your fingers try to make up for the emptiness. Three digits. Three digits are buried inside your weeping cunt and it doesn’t help. You still feel empty, unsatisfied, needy. A fourth one doesn’t make any difference. You pump and twist and fuck your fingers into yourself, hoping that one of those things will scratch the itch, but it doesn’t. It only makes it worse because it makes you miss him.

It was a foggy evening, cold and wet and dark, when Jungkook showed you what his fingers could do for the first time. It happened in the living room, during a movie date which you planned to keep romantic. There were only supposed to be cuddles and snacks. One hour into the movie however, he had you naked and spread out on the couch while he drilled his long, tattooed fingers into your puffy walls. You might have ripped one of the cushions that evening.

And right now, it is haunting you. You want his fingers. Please. His fingers felt so good. He did it so much better, he fucked you so much deeper. Please.

You push him away with your free hand. Jungkook listens, letting his cock slip from your mouth. He holds it over your face, watching the spit drip from his tip back onto your lips.

“Please, it hurts. I want yours”, you beg, thrusting your hips up needily.

“Aww I see. I was already wondering what you were oh so clumsily attempting to do”, he teases you. “Let me do it, sweetie. Don’t worry, your Alpha’s got.”

He slides his hand into your shorts and swipes your hand away, giving you your sweet relief by sinking his long fingers into your dripping cunt. The position naturally allows his palm to press against your clit, applying such warm and intense pressure that you sob his name. He instantly picks up a quick rhythm, forcing you to cry out and claw at his hips in your clumsy attempt to get his cock back inside. He gives in for you, fucking his girth back into you in one harsh thrust. His right hand falls back to your throat, his hips pick up a punishing rhythm. The kind of rhythm which turns your moans into choking gurgles and which constantly slaps his heavy balls against your face. And how it leaves you feeling high. You stopped trying to swallow, letting the spit spill out of you messily and endlessly. It smears all over his cock and your face like this, making the glide so much easier.

“There we go, make those pretty sounds. Try to breathe whenever I pull out, baby. Breathe.”

You obey him. Breathe. Moan. Breathe. Sob. Breathe. Wail. Breathe and breathe and moan some more. You are so utterly his’. 

He has your face fucked, your throat claimed and now your cunt as well. Nothing. Truly nothing is missing.

“Yes baby suck on it. Suck it dry, baby. Suck it, yes baby. Yes. Fuck. Yes.” He is babbling, being loud with you as you shake and writhe your way to your orgasm. 

If this continues, it won’t be long. You are so high on him. So fucking high. Tears stream down your temples, your throat is starting to get sore from his rough breeding. You aren’t aware of it yet because you are truly lost to him. 

He is just as lost. It hasn’t been that long and your pussy is already so lose around his two fingers. Greedily, he slips in his pointer finger and pinkie too. You wail up, throbbing around him as you take his fist.

“Feels good?” 

“Ymgmeahm”, you gurgle out, grasping his hips to the point you leave marks.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, baby. Gonna put some puppies down your throat, make you my fucking cumslut”, Jungkook is losing it, which means that he is just as drugged as you are. Just in his own kind of way.

The kind of way which means that you are getting fucked harder and better. Which also means that he brings you over the edge mere moments later.

“Ah! Baby!” he yelps, legs stuttering. He throws his head back. “___!” 

He orgasms right with you, finding his crescendo deep in throat, which forces you over the edge a second time. And while your screams are muffled by his heavy cock, his scream bounces off the bedroom walls.

He didn’t even know that he could be this fucking loud. Normally, he is always the one who gets his partners screaming. Or in his case ever since he became your true mate, who gets you, his pretty wife, screaming. But this is new. He can scream as well. And it’s fucking needed because you make him feel goddamn invincible like this.

The moments after your highs died down are messy. It should have been enough, but it wasn’t. You want the stretch of his cock while Jungkook feels the need to truly use his strength. No more holding back for the sake of your jaw. 

Besides, he wants to make the cumshots count. He wants to feel fucking alive inside you again. Which has been his favourite thing to do ever since you and he bonded.

You drag yourself out of the position and onto your knees while he tries to make sense of what happened. You pull the shorts off of you, sobbing as you do.

“Please”, you beg, “please more, please.”

“You’re insatiable.”

You begin trembling, looking in pain. If he doesn’t give you another dose of him soon, you will pass out in withdrawal.

“Please, it hurts. Please.”

“Hey, calm down for me” he whispers and cradles your cheeks.

Your body obeys. The shakes stop. You look up into his eyes submissively. He is so tall and dominant, taking up your entire vision. And yet, he is gentle. He holds you with no strength and talks to you in a soothing voice.

“I want you too, but I need to make sure you actually want it. Tell me your honest feelings without taking me in account”, he orders. He knows that your little omega body wants to please him. That everything wants to make sure that he is satisfied. But he wants your truth. 

“Please, I want you. It’s, it’s the truth.”

“Yes? Does my little omega want more?”

“Yes, Alpha. More”, you hug him, feeling so small against him, “please more.”

“God, you drive me insane”, he rasps and lifts you to carry you back to the window sill. He lies you down on it, chuckling when you spread your legs all on your own. 

Your pussy is throbbing. She is so wet and puffy. 

“Fuck sweetie, I’m so lucky to have you. Can’t believe I get to fuck such a pretty pussy”, he purrs and sticks his cock into you.

You wail up, arching your back. Tears instantly shoot to your eyes and your body trembles.

“Shit sorry, I forgot to warn you. You okay?”

“Thank you, Koo thank you”, you sob, writhing in ecstasy.

“Mhhhm babyyyy, you drive me insane”, he purrs and grabs your hips to pull them up and on his cock. Your legs hook themselves over his lower arms, your body is bent so he can drill you oh so deep.

“Such a good omega. Fuck, keep moaning for me”, he encourages you, staring down at you with obsession in his golden eyes.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open. Your body writhes and shakes. Your skin is glowing in a sheer layer of sweat, reflecting the sunlight. Fuck, it looks so pretty on your nipples. How plumb they are. 

Jungkook pinches them, soaking up the wail you let out because of it. They leak a little, making the massage easier. 

“Fucking look at you. You’re fucking meant to be bred”, he growls. His hips rut into you without him having to concentrate on moving. It’s instinct. He’s inside his omega and his body knows exactly what to do.

“How are you that good?” he rasps, staring at you with a dizzy head.

“Good…what?” 

“Good at making it all better.” He thrusts into you as if he is trying to reward you for your mere existence. “Good at distracting me.” Another thrust, a twist of your nipples, quivers down your legs. “Good at being you. Perfect, amazing you.” He fucks into you with each word, knocking the most delicious moans out of you.

He pulls out of you just to watch your slick spill from your puffy cunt. He runs his heavy cock through it, playing with your stretched entrance. 

“You’re just so fucking good”, he rasps and pushes back inside. 

You wail, arching your back.

“Please rougher”, you beg instantly.

“Like this? Do you like it?” 

“More. Please, more. Kook please.”

Jungkook feels invincible when you are like this. It hasn’t been long since you and he have bonded. It has been three months, two weeks and one day to be exact. Jungkook counted the days. It hasn’t been long, but it has been long enough for you and him to fuck way too many times. You just love it too much. It is as if you can’t stop doing it. 

Whenever he gets you like this, so cockdrunk and needy for his rougher sides, Jungkook feels invincible. He wants to fulfil your every wish and keep you safe. This is your shared moment. Only he will ever see you so submissive and vulnerable and he would be damned if he didn’t keep you safe while he rearranges your insides.  

He lifts you up onto the window bench so you are kneeling on all fours and looking outside. He joins you on top of it. Your body falls to the front, colliding with the window. He slams his hand on the glass right above your hand, eyes shifting to the world outside. He towers over you, letting anyone know that trying to take you from him would end in fucking death. You’re his’. 

“Is this alright for you? Wanna make the world see how good we fuck?” he makes sure because he knows that once you are high on pleasure, you can’t really think for yourself anymore. He wants to make sure that you are aware of what is happening to you, that you always have a chance to change something.

“Yes, okay. Just please. Harder.” 

“Anything you want. Take me, baby. All of me.” He fills you up from behind, slinging his strong arm around you to hold you against his strong chest. “Let everyone see who makes you feel that good.”

You sob his name, sinking back into him. Your head hits his chest, your fingers grasp his lower arm. 

“Happy, so happy”, you whimper, drooling on his arm.

“Me too, baby. So happy”, he rasps, drilling his huge cock into you. The sunlight hits it each time he pulls out, really showcasing just how fucking wet you get him. “You like how I fuck you, sweetie?”

“Yeah, rough. So good”, you mewl, writhing in his arms.

“Mhm what a good omega you are, fuck”, Jungkook growls and slips his left hand to your pussy. He takes your swollen clit between his fingers and begins playing with it.

Of course you wail up because of it. Of course your pussy throbs around his cock. And of course you arch your back in the prettiest of ways.

Jungkook watches your nipples leak in pleasure, going insane because in the same fucking view he can also see how his cock is entering you repeatedly. He’s so big that your stomach bulges each time he ruts into you. Leaking nipples and cock filled tummies. Jungkook growls at the view, biting your neck right on your scent spot.

You sob his name, limp body shaking in his arms and legs quaking. He is going to make you climax. You’re his’. And now the whole pack is going to see.

Months ago, the thought of sealing your bond so publicly scared you. Right now, the potential of being watched is ecstatic to you. This is the future pack Alpha who’s fucking like this and you’re the girl he chose as his queen.

“You know that I’m so happy it’s you?” He rasps into your ear while his fingers torture your puffy clit to an orgasm. “You know that I wouldn’t want it any other way?”

Bonds between Alphas and omegas are rare in the werewolf community. Alphas don’t want to risk their pups being born with the omega gen and therefore most Alphas bond with other Alphas to guarantee their offspring to have the Alpha gen. Sex between Alphas and omegas is a more common thing, but marriage? Not that much. Too many risks. 

Sometimes you feel so wrong as Jungkook’s mate. You know how his father thinks of you and there are probably others in the pack who share his feelings. Being Jungkook’s mate bears the risk that your pups are going to be born as omegas too. It’s a risky marriage. 

Hearing Jungkook talk like this as he fucks you against the windows for everyone to see, changes you as a person.

“I gotta be the luckiest fucking Alpha out there, baby. I have a pretty omega as my wife. I’m the goddamn luckiest bastard.”

“Jungkook”, you mewl, grasping his hair as his words send you off the edge.

“You liked that, didn’t you? What a pretty omega you are cumming for me. That’s it, sweetie. Cream my cock, good omega. Such a good girl”, he talks you through it, rubbing your clit as he writes his name on your throbbing walls.

Panickedly, you reach down to get his hand to stop. He is stronger than you, torturing you and holding you close.

“I-I will- Jung- I- please”, you stutter.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let’s show the pack how prettily my omega can squirt.”

“Jungkook”, you wail, sinking into yourself as he sets you off. 

He growls, pressing you against the window as he fucks the pretty liquid out of you.

“Yes princess, yes. Urgh what a good omega you are. Give me everything. That’s it”, he talks you through it. Of course he does. Jungkook always talks you through your orgasms, which is reason on its own to be totally crazy. You’ve got this sexy, strong Alpha as your mate and on top of it all, he always talks you through it.

You’ve got to be luckiest omega in existence. 

Jungkook is rougher after your high. His voice is deeper too. His grip is punishingly strong.

“I need to use your body. Can I? I’m so close.”

“Please”, you beg and sob when seconds later, you get pushed down into the pillows. The top of your head is pressed against the window, the sun shines right onto your face. You can’t open your eyes, crying tears because you are so sensitive and he drills you as if you have a debt to pay.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry, it’s gonna be over soon. I’m sorry”, he chants, keeping you down with one hand on your head. He hates seeing you cry, but it’s impossible to stop. He needs to rut, breed you and make you his’. “I’m so fucking sorry. Oh god, baby. I can’t stop.”

Something holds him back. Maybe it’s guilt. He doesn’t want to do this to you, but can’t stop. Fuck, why can’t he cum? Jungkook ruts even harder despite not wanting to. He feels so fucking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t- I-”

“Feels so good, Koo. Koo. Please Koo”, you sob and shut off his guilt for breeding you with such strength.

The intense pleasure returns, hitting him with such intensity that Jungkook arches his back and throws his head back.

“___!” he moans, feeling his orgasm finally hit him. “Holy fuck”, he gets out, falling to the front. He cushions his fall with one arm against the window, dropping his head against it as he fills you with his creamy cum in heavy spurts. 

You sob his name, finding one more high because of his cum, but you know that you couldn’t take any more afterwards. You are ruined. This was the last thing your drugged omega body needed to be completely satisfied. Now you are finally filled up with him on both ends. Your tummy is truly only there to carry his pleasure. What a perfect life you are living.

Jungkook finishes with a growl of your name, then a tremble of his body and a curse. 

“Holy fuck, sweetie”, he croaks, pulling you up into his arms. He kisses and nuzzles you instantly, whispering the sweetest words repeatedly, “I love you, I love you, oh sweetie. My sweetie, I love you.” 

“I…I love you too.”

“What?” 

He pulls out and turns you, cradling your cheeks. His eyes are widened, racing between yours in urgency.

“What did you just say?”

“I love you too.”

“You don’t mean that”, he seems in disbelief, voice quivering.

“I do.”

“No. No, you don’t. Baby”, his lower lip quivers. He pulls you closer, tilting your head up so you can still look at each other. You are so close like this that you feel his breath tickle your lips as he talks, “tell me you’re not serious.”

“But I am”, you insist, touching his waist, “Koo, I love you.”

Jungkook laughs, eyes filling with tears.

“___, my love”, he chokes out, picking you up just so he can dance through the room with you. “Oh baby, I love you. Baby.” 

“Koo, I’m leaking. Please no twirls. It’s going everywhere”, you squeak, trying so hard to clench your pussy. 

“Doesn’t matter. Just leak on me. Oh baby, you make me so happy”, he says and drops on the bed with you. 

He buries you under him, attacking your face with too many kisses to count. He cradles your cheeks for it, making you giggle and squeal because it is so nice to be adored this way. 

“Oh baby, my baby”, he kisses your forehead and cheeks, “I could melt with you”, he pulls your head up to repeatedly kiss your lips. 

Once he stops, you feel butterflies in your tummy and warmth in your chest.

“But how are you? How’s your jaw?” he rubs it gently, “How’s your pussy? I was so rough. Is there anything hurting?” 

You shake your head, “just a little sensitive, but it’s nice.” 

“Yeah? And your tummy?” He rubs it. “I fed you a lot of cum. How are you handling it?”

You place your hand over his’, smiling at him goofily, “I feel like I could do anything.”

“Yes? Oh sweetie”, he nuzzles against your scent spot, “you have no idea how happy I am. I can’t shut up. The way you made me feel, it’s. Wow.” He laughs breathily. “Wow, I never felt this way before. I literally can’t shut up about it. I feel, wow.” He falls to his back and kicks his feet in the air, giggling. “Fuck, I could do anything! Ah!” He exclaims and stretches his limbs from himself in starfish position. 

You giggle, rolling over repeatedly until you are snuggled into his side again. Jungkook flips to his side, closing his arms around you. He purrs, kissing your forehead. Afterwards he just kind of lets the view of you sink in. He traces your temple and ear softly as he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, letting shyness appear in your eyes. “It sucks that I can’t share with everyone how you make me feel when our bodies connect”, he speaks softly.

“I feel like we kinda shared it a little.”

You and Jungkook glance at the window bench. The windows are dirty to the point where the sunlight looks a little milky through it. You look back into each other’s eyes, cracking up at the same time.

You and he giggle like teenagers doing something harmless yet forbidden. 

“I can’t believe that we did that”, he confesses.

“Me neither. Oh my god. Do you think someone saw us?” 

“I lowkey hope someone did and they tell my dad…” He kisses the tip of your nose. “...that his son has the best, most beautiful wife ever. And that he loves her so much.”

“I’m sure that they would also tell him that happiness looks so good on his son and that she loves him too. And that their bond is forever, no matter what anyone says.”

Jungkook’s features soften, “oh baby” he whispers, caressing you under your eye, “you’re just so…” his eyes glimmer in adoration, “... goddamn perfect.” 

You lean into his touch, rubbing his chest mindlessly. He kisses your forehead, nuzzling you into him afterwards. He draws hearts on your back while you melt in his embrace. 

He studies the windows you and he dirtied. The prints of his hands are next to the prints of your tits and the spots where he made your squirt. He feels so proud and giddy. He did that with you. Wow, he will think about this forever. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks in a quiet purr.

“A little. Why?”

“Just making a mental plan on how to spend the rest of our day. Just wanna cook for you and take care of you.” 

“Cooking sounds nice. I’m so sleepy though. I’m sorry it’s suddenly so hard to...talk.”

“No wonder. You’re coming down.”

“You’ll hold me, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’ll hold you. Just relax, I’ll make sure that nothing happens.”

You sigh in relief, growing softer and smaller now that he reassured you that it was safe for you to relax. Omegas rarely can function normally after sex. After basically being high and doing everything to chase pleasure, an omega’s body is spent. Most omegas use what little strength they have to flee to somewhere safe and hide away until it passes. Knowing that you have Jungkook as your protector and safe space to hide in, makes the entire recovery process a moment of healing. You won’t ever have to flee. You have someone safe who will be with you. 

“I love you”, you whisper with your last strength.

“I love you too, my sweetie”, he whispers.

You fall asleep in his arms and Jungkook stays with you for a while until he is sure that you are safely gone in your slumber. He tugs you in as he leaves to shower and begin preparing breakfast.

He wants you to wake up to your favourite dishes being finished and your favourite flowers waiting on your bedside table. And as he cooks, he dances to his favourite music. He hasn’t danced in ages, but being your mate makes him want to do the things he loved doing when his mental health wasn’t terrible. Being your mate makes him want to heal and become happier again. Life isn’t all bad, it really isn’t, Jungkook thinks and sings as he dances. Life isn’t all bad.

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[poobit]

i have many thoughts on how Mouthwashing handles the themes of abuse and the symbolism around it especially as a survivor ... im not gnna hold back so -

first of all i think since its clear the point Jimmy is dismissive of Anya´s personhood and his perception is warped towards what he does as a Captain rather than what he does as a man, it makes sense she doesnt get her own labyrinth or such , i cant argue around that because its realistic he´s so male focused he cant even bother to truly think about what he did to her, i would love it if Wrong Organ decides to do a side story vignette of her own perspective and view in the future if the game proves its successful enough for side content like that.

Assault is something usually not handled with subtlety in games, i think what struck me the most was how real the dialogue of her coping and suicidal ideations and how Curly responded to it felt , the dancing around the subject, the deflection, the "whats next" of the ever impending consequence of pregnancy, how Anya pleads for help from the person she trusts but nonetheless a man unequipped and too emotionally attached to the abuser to be able to confront him, its so real, Curly´s lack of initiative is something Jimmy fully takes advantage of the moment things dont go his way, he turns everyone against him even as a helpless body on a bed because he needed to be in control of the situation, thats what abusers do.

A more sensationalistic game would have easily played Anya´s helplessness and assault for shock for sure, because it would be easy, she is the archetypical victim trope, shes modeled in Wendy Torrance likeness from The Shining, shes meek and unsure of herself and Jimmy shoots her down from the very beginning to make her feel unqualified and cornered, but the furthest the games goes is making Jimmy terror towards the pregnancy and the baby as a boogeyman that crawls and tramples over him. No sights of bleeding legs or her crying or screaming and much less present objectification of her body (which is something that i always think the horror genre has such a struggle not grabbing onto, sexuality is mostly always played up in assault stories especially if the victim is an adult woman), she remains a fully clothed figure and maintains the agency to her own demise, away from Jimmy and beside Curly, which is tragic and obviously still a symptom of horror´s proclivity to back female characters into corners of self inflicted punishment, but the alternative would have been that sooner or later, Jimmy would have killed her.

Its clear to me that the game used Curly´s state as a way to put a barrier between Jimmy and Anya, we dont objectify Anya, but we objectify Curly, Anya doesnt just feel pained and unable to handle Curly´s medication because shes in a sensitive state, her comments about his noises and such draws a line between her trauma and her perception of things as Her fault, she cant handle hearing his struggles and cries trying to swallow a pill because it reminds her of her own helplessness, so she leaves the task to Jimmy, someone who has no qualms in forcing someone down, the emphasis of every treatment as a repetitive process and the sound design is all very poignant and for me, a great way to handle assault as a metaphor, Curly did not consent to being in this position, it is very much still Jimmy´s fault and the fact that Jimmy is basically keeping him alive against his will even to the last moment of the game says everything, Jimmy doesnt love Curly the same way he doesnt love Anya.

The horses are not lost on me, i think horses as animals are often seen as "viril" symbols, strong and often volatile, they can be often hard to mount but when one does the rider and animal are seen as this one all powerful entity, like centaurs, which also carry symbolism of assaulters mind you, so while maybe not intentional on the dev´s part i think it still points to the Horse as a symbol still important in the game, the only spoken audio lines of dialog come from the Pony Express mascot Polle itself, and they are the first to actually confront Jimmy´s self centered line of thought and over-focusing on Curly, if the Tulpar is akin to a beast of a burden then Jimmy beat the dead horse way long ago.

All in this to say that Mouthwashing was a really good experience and i really hope the dev team is interested on expanding a bit more on it because i trust their vision.

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Batman is confused. Elsewhere, a fox has dinner with a social worker.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have a question about the report you submitted last Tuesday.”

“What is it, father?” Damian stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Bruce, still in his cowl from patrol.

“Could you please explain this… Fox… you wrote about?” He asked, carefully picking his words.

“What about it?”

The cave was filled with silence as they stared each other down. Bruce contemplated how to proceed. 

“Damian, foxes can’t do these things. They can’t understand human speech to the degree you described, they don’t exchange food for services, they can’t point you to the joker.”

“Are you calling me a liar father?” Damian snipped back.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“I didn’t lie,” Damian seethed through clenched teeth, “You can ask Grayson if you don’t believe me. But I did not lie.”

Bruce contemplated that reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t just a ploy to get a new pet. “Foxes can’t do those things,” he repeated, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I know.”

~~~~

Jason did not yelp. He did not jump and definitely did not scream like a 5 year old watching a horror movie. In fact he did not react at all when he walked into his safe house, turned on the light, and heard the gravelly voice of the 6 foot tall hell beast behind him calling his name. Nope. Not a single reaction. Not even a flinch. Totally. Definitely. 

Which is why Bruce’s current expression is completely unwarranted. It was the expression he made when Jason ate 5 plates of pancakes in one sitting two months into living with him. It was the expression he made when Jason lost his tooth naturally for the first time — rather than in a fight. It was the expression he made when Jason cried over a bruised knee when learning how to ride a bike. It was the expression he made when Cass fell asleep against him during a movie, close and comfortable. It was the expression he made when Stephanie would show off a new skill she learned or hobby she picked up. It was the expression he made when Tim would show off his photos, or when Babs would take a break to read a new book. It was the expression he made when Damian would ask for a play date, or Dick would show off new clothes. It was the expression he made when his kids, his family, acted like normal people, and not vigilantes burdened with a fight they could never win. And there was no reason for him to make that awful, soft, sappy, expression now because Jason did not scream.

“The fuck you want?” Jason snapped (because he was upset about being intruded upon, and definitely, totally not because he was embarrassed about squealing like a little girl. Which is something he did not do, by the way.)

“I wanted to ask you about something,” his voice was clear and stern, but still held concern and care.

Jason tilted his head toward Bruce, urging him to continue. “Damian wrote a report I found… odd. It was about your informant,” That idiotic fool “I was hoping you could clarify something.” 

Jason signed, he’d reem the little twerp later, and plopped himself down on the ratty once-beige couch. “Alright. Shoot.”

~~~~

The clothes were itchy. Unbelievably so. They were baggy, but the intentional kind. The kind that hid how malnourished you were, rather than highlighting it. They were new, unwashed, ugly, and would likely be returned the next day, if the tag digging into your back was any indication.

“How are things going dear?” Asked Ms.Kelsey, a naive younger woman with a brown bun and thin purple glasses, “are you liking your stay with Neels?”

“It’s not the worst home I’ve been in,” you answered smoothly. That wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact you could only shower on Wednesday mornings, they confiscated your phone two days in, and they seemingly despised the idea they had to feed you, it still wasn’t the worst home you’d been in. Not even top five. 

“That’s good to hear!” Ms.Kelsey, your current social worker, celebrated. She was new to the job, only a year in, and annoyingly cheerful, but she was visibly trying her best. You appreciated that. “How’s school been going?”

“We’re reading Shakespeare in my English class,” you offered.

“Oh! And how are you liking it?”

“It’s alright, but I really like my English teacher, he makes it fun.”

“That’s wonderful sweetie,” Ms.Kelsey grinned, “Let’s go join the family for dinner,” she directed, standing from the worn brown armchair in the living room and heading towards the dining room where the Mr. and Mrs. Neel were seated beside their son, George.

You took your seat at the stubby table, across from George. The table was dressed with a tacky floral tablecloth, and covered with various mismatched bowls of sides surrounding a rather large chicken. The food was, as typical for Mrs. Neel, simultaneously overcooked and raw. You plopped a spoonful of soggy broccoli on your plate, followed by a serving of (unintentionally chunky) mashed potatoes. No chicken, you weren’t willing to risk salmonella or the screaming fit that would follow. Only simple sides that they have plenty of, so they wouldn’t get mad at you. 

The mashed potatoes crunched when you took a bite, and you tried your best to ignore it. They tasted wet and sad, and far too salty. Chewing was both difficult and necessary as parts of the food slashed down your throat with little resistance, and others put up a fight when you tried to chew them. But this wasn’t the worst home you’ve been in. Far from it in fact. At least the food isn’t moldy! And there’s no— no, wait, yup that’s hair. You decided to risk the chunky potatoes swallowed down your mouthful with a glass of water.

Ms.Kelsey and the Neels exchanged pleasant conversation, while you picked at your food, taking small mouthfuls fast enough they wouldn’t ask questions, and slow enough you could carefully examine all the food. The evening passed in a swift haze, with no mistakes on your end. After Miss Kelsey left, you helped clear the table, pack the food away, and retreated to your rarely used bedroom.

The bedroom had bare white walls, an uncomfortable bed, and a small dresser you kept your clothes in. It was fine. Everything was fine, you kept repeating to yourself. It could be much, much worse. It has been much, much worse. Be thankful for what you have. At least tomorrow you’ll see your friends again! That’s gotta count for something, right?

~~~~

“They… didn’t come today…” Damian rarely allowed his emotions to breathe freely, so seeing him look so defeated was odd.

“It happens from time to time. ‘Bout once a month,” Jason clumsily tried to comfort, “they’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’re ok?” Damian asked, almost pleading, and looked up at Jason.

“I— ummm — ya,” he awkwardly placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was not sure, actually, but he hoped it was true. “Let’s leave the food here, so they’ll have something if they drop by later.” 

Damien seemed pleased by the idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

I put this elsewhere, but in case you haven't seen it: I'm having some technical difficulties with responding to comments, but I see them, and I appreciate them <3

[sunnami]

❝time will tell.❞

[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]

summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞

pairing/s. poly!mauraders + lily x reader.

word count. 9.5k.

tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf

note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one

HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 

At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 

Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 

Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 

But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 

Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 

You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 

Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 

“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 

“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 

“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 

“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 

Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)

“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 

“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 

Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 

You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 

That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.

“That slimy bitch!” 

Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 

The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 

You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 

You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 

But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 

You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 

When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 

“That’s Sirius.” 

You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.

Sirius Black.

“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 

“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 

Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”

You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 

Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 

You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 

After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”

“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 

“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”

A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 

Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 

You grimace. “Which cousin?” 

He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”

This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 

“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 

“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 

When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 

You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 

“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 

You nod. 

Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”

Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 

The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.

You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 

You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.

They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 

Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 

You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 

When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 

Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 

“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 

“Oh, Harry. . .” 

It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 

You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 

“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”

“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 

“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 

“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 

“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 

You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”

“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 

Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 

Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 

“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 

“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 

A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 

Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 

Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 

(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 

“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 

Were you? 

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 

Then, you find it. 

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 

It’s a space on that wall just for you. 

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.” 

That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 

You don’t look back. 

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 

“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 

“I know,” You say defeatedly. 

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 

“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well. 

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 

“I’m always right.” You pout. 

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 

How lucky you are. 

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 

“Avada Kedavra!” 

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 

“No!” 

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 

“Expulso!” 

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 

“Accio wand!” 

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 

“Peter?” You call out. 

“Crucio!” 

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 

“Defodio!” 

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 

That just leaves one more problem. 

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 

You just wanted to rest now. 

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 

“Avada Kedavra.” 

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man. 

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: In this episode none!

In futures episodes: Violence, Strong language, female main character is considered heterosexual but she have feelings for a female (Cho Hyun-ju) and it is reciprocated, abuse for male characters.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

You were stupid, very stupid and naive, that was what you repeated to yourself every day since your ex-boyfriend scammed you and abandoned you in a country where you didn't know anyone, you couldn't even understand the language well and now you were locked up in a place full of strangers in a green uniform and with a headache you could barely bear.

Why were you doing such stupid things? You should have said no when that man approached you and offered you money, it was all for the damn money, otherwise how would you find another way to get home?

Barely a day had passed, you understood little of the first game where you saw one person after another die around you, what you had gotten yourself into, this wasn't a game, it was a massacre, as you sat cross-legged on the cold bed that had been assigned to you you could feel your hands shaking and you felt warm tears rolling down your cheeks.

Hey - a kind voice rumbled slowly but enough to wake you from your trance to look up and see a boy with long, slicked-back hair holding a small metal tray - I noticed you didn't come over for your food, I brought you some

His equally shaky hand moved a little closer to you, leaving the tray on the bed, staring at you, afraid you'd react

It's okay if you don't want to eat it, it's just that if we're going to keep playing you need strength for tomorrow - his kind but shy smile and his clear disinterest in leaving made you wipe your tears with the sleeves of your sweater, nodding taking a deep breath - Thanks - you told him, trying not to sound upset, because you really weren't and if you were it was only with yourself

My name is Dae-Ho, yours is… 144 - he looked at you curiously taking a bite of his food

Y/N… my name is Y/N - you sighed, hugging your legs uncomfortably and nervous

Hey, leave her alone - a loud and somewhat curious voice sounded behind Dae-Ho making the two look towards the sound - don't you see that you're making her uncomfortable? go away

I… I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, it's just that… - Dae-Ho looked at you embarrassed, walking away just a few steps

You don't have to give explanations, go away - the girl, a little taller than Dae-Ho, looked at him firmly, almost annoyed, following the man with her gaze as he walked away quickly and embarrassed, joining a group of men on the other shelf of beds

you can eat in peace - the girl looked at you kindly while you only responded with a slight nod and she walked away returning to her place two beds down on the shelf next to you

It was difficult for you not to go unnoticed and it was obvious that everyone wanted to get away from you, you weren't like them, you didn't share their nationality, their traditions, or their topics of conversation, you didn't even understand many of them what they were talking about, they all looked at you like a weirdo, like why a foreigner could come and want to steal their prize, it was unfair.

That's how you spent the first night, alone, trembling from the cold and fear, looking into the darkness while you cried silently and the gunshots echoed in your ears, it was a nightmare and that's how you were until sleep overcame you

The second day wasn't any better, you could barely carry yourself, you were tired, hungry and much more scared than yesterday, surrounded by hundreds of people in a courtyard with drawings of children and rainbows on the floor.

''Now, it's time to form teams of 5, you have 10 minutes'' the voice of the speaker sounded repeatedly before an alarm sounded and you saw how everyone ran looking for members for their team, but everyone seemed to avoid you like a plague.

They ran and pushed you but no one looked at you to join and if they looked at you it was to laugh and murmur

There she was again, standing in front of you with a sad look that barely met your eyes she looked at the floor and walked by your side.

Hey… - you murmured barely, only to her with fear and shame - if you still don't have a team… I can join you if you don't mind - she looked at you over her shoulder giving a sigh of relief nodding offering you her hand so she could walk by your side and not get lost in the crowd

Between your fingers you could notice the difference in size between your small and fragile hand and hers, it was big with a different strength and somewhat rough but still made you feel protected and confident

So you both walked almost in circles finding the fragile old woman and her son and then the little girl with bangs forming a team of 5

Again the games were confusing for you, you could identify some that resembled what you had once played in your country but fear consumed you making your hands tremble again

Calm down - her voice again fragile but somewhat thick made you look at her holding the air - everything will be fine, don't push yourself too much okay? Do you think you can take charge of throwing the rocks? It's just a matter of taking a rock, throwing it and making the second one fall, that's all you have to do - her voice was like a murmur trying not to interrupt the game of the first two teams that were participating

Should I just throw it? - you looked at her nervously, looking at her dark eyes behind her bangs

You just have to throw it, it's easy - she smiled at you giving you hope making you smile barely as you looked at the floor again nervously trying not to think about everything that was tormenting your head, in the background you could hear the screams and cheers that the other players made while the teams participated until a round of gunshots made you jump scared covering your ears and closing your eyes tightly - calm down, calm down nothing is happening - her arms surrounded you quickly, adjusting you against her chest, you could feel the strands of her hair on your face and a slight aroma of herbs coming from it - it's over, don't open your eyes until I tell you okay?

Your head barely nodded as you took a deep breath, the aroma of her hair made you remember the gardens where you walked when you first arrived in South Korea and her arms for some reason made you feel protected, nothing could happen to you

A couple of minutes (that seemed like an eternity) passed slowly, people were talking, some were crying and in the background you could hear the sound of the sirens of the forklifts that had come to pick up the bodies, one second after another it was a damn nightmare.

''Next team, you can take your position'' the voice from the speaker again

It's our turn - the old woman sighed getting up while you opened your eyes and stood up slowly with fear

The guards tied your ankles and after a shot the game for you began.

You walked counting the steps, being constant and fast in your tasks, first Ddjaki, the little girl with the bangs did well, then the flying rock, your trembling hands held it strong and letting out a deep sigh you threw it against the rock in the distance failing in the attempt

Girl concentrate, what's wrong with you! - the old woman shouted making your friend look at her annoyed and after her firm indication and walking as a team to pick it up the 5 of them returned to their position - don't fail, please girl!

We trust you… calm down, take a breath and throw it, you'll do well - Your new best friend looked at you smiling lightly giving you courage.

A sigh again, a fixed look at the rock and after throwing it it fell with a blow.

Everyone screamed, applauded and so on again until reaching the final task ''Team 2, you have completed your tasks'' you had never been so happy to hear that spooky voice on the speaker and once the guards untied your ankles they all ran screaming and laughing to the fence that separated you from the rest of the players, you could finally return to the dormitory and finally had survived another day.

Everyone was happy, so much so that all of you were jumping and screaming with excitement, your friend, the tall girl ran to you without wasting a second surrounding you with her strong arms making you spin in the air while both of you laughed

We did it, I told you, we did it right - she laughed jumping with you still in her arms making you scream when you felt the air on your face and your legs hanging in the air

Now, stop it, you're going to make her dizzy - the old woman laughed patting her back as a sign that it was enough until you heard gunshots in the distance again making the team erase their smile and remember the horrible place where they were

Come on let's sit down - her hand slowly and carefully took yours walking towards the bed shelves climbing up and sitting on the steps - are you okay?

Yes… I'm pretty well, thanks for helping me - you smiled rubbing your hands on your legs nervously

By the way, my name is Cho Hyun-Ju… are you? - she looked at you curiously

Y/N… my name is Y/N - you smiled shyly at her

You have a very pretty name - she smiled back shyly with her cheeks slightly tinted - thanks for letting me join you in the game you were the only person who approached me

You don't have to thank me, I think we are both rejected for certain reasons and that makes us unique in the crowd right? it's better to be united and be stronger than alone - your cheeks felt hot, the sign that they were red like cherries

You're right..

Part 2 ✨

------------------------------------

Thanks for reading, this is the first episode I've written about Squid Game and it was short since I have little time to update but I didn't want to go to sleep without writing the beginning of the story, I have ideas but I'd like to hear yours and write them down, just to reinforce the theme of this story the reader and Cho Hyun-ju will possibly have a romance so if these themes aren't to you please don't read it, I know you'll find something that suits your tastes. 🫶🏻

Again, Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

BTW: Happy New Year everyone 🥂✨

[pucksandpower]

To Hell With Duty

Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader

Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for

Warnings: abusive family dynamics

Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.

“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.

“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...

“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.

You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.

Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.

“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”

Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”

“But that’s not fair!” You protested.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.

“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”

You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.

“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.

“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”

“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”

Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.

You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.

And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.

“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”

***

Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.

Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.

“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.

Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”

You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.

“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”

You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.

“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”

You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.

“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”

Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”

“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”

Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”

You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”

“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”

You look at him, confused. “What?”

Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”

Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”

“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”

You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”

“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”

You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”

Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”

Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.

“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”

You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.

Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”

Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”

You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”

As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.

You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.

And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...

You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.

But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?

You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.

Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.

Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”

Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”

He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”

“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”

As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”

Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”

His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.

“Ready,” you say firmly.

And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.

***

The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.

Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”

You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”

“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”

You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”

Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”

You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.

“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”

“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.

You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”

Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”

“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”

“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.

You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”

Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”

You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.

Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”

Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”

“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”

Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.

“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”

“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”

Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.

“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”

A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.

“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”

Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”

You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”

You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”

“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.

“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”

His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”

“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”

Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”

“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.

“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”

Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.

“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”

The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.

***

As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.

“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”

Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”

Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”

You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.

“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”

“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.

Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”

Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”

“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”

As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.

“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”

“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”

You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”

Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”

“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.

“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”

Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”

As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”

“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.

“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”

“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”

You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”

As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”

Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”

Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.

“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”

You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”

Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”

Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”

As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”

You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”

Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”

As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.

“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”

He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.

As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.

And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.

You’re running towards it.

***

The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.

“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.

“Is that ...”

“It can’t be ...”

“The princess!”

“With Lewis Hamilton?”

Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.

A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”

You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.

“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”

The questions come rapid-fire after that.

“Why did you leave the UK?”

“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”

“What does the royal family have to say about this?”

Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”

As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...

The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.

One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.

“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They’re making threats.”

You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”

Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”

Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”

“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”

And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.

A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.

“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”

Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”

As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”

You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”

The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”

“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”

Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”

The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”

“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”

Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”

The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”

For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”

The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”

Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.

“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”

As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”

Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”

As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.

“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”

“Love wins!”

“You show ‘em, Lewis!”

Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.

“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”

As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.

You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”

Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”

You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”

As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”

Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.

As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.

The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.

As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.

In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

Together.

***

The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”

Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”

As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”

You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.

“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”

“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”

Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”

As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.

That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.

Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.

“Is that ...” he asks quietly.

You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”

Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.

Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”

Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”

Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”

You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”

Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”

Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”

Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”

You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”

Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”

You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”

Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”

Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”

Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”

You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”

Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”

“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”

Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”

Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”

You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”

Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”

Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”

You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”

As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”

With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.

Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”

As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.

“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”

As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.

You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.

It was the only choice.

As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.

This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.

As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.

And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.

It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.

As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.

Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.

***

The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.

“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.

You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.

“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.

Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.

Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”

Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”

“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”

Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”

You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”

“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”

Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”

Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”

Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.

“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”

Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”

Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”

You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”

As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.

“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”

Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”

Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”

Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”

A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.

“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”

James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”

Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”

As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”

The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.

Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”

Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”

Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.

As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”

You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”

“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”

You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”

Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”

You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”

Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”

Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”

As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.

“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”

Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”

Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”

As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).

“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”

“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.

“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.

You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”

As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.

And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

[imtryingbuck]

His Flower.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n have known each other since they were babies, they love each other but don’t say anything until Bucky goes to war.

Word count: 11,963

Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of cheating (not Bucky) mentions of domestic abuse. Swearing. Steve never visits Peggy when she’s old. Bucky knew about Steve getting the serum. Pregnancy. Sad Bucky (that’s a warning in itself) Bucky was accused of the bombing in Vienna in 2015 in this. Blip happens but none of the avengers get blipped nor do any of them die. There’s a lot…so if I’ve missed anything please let me know

Masterlist

May 21st 1922

“Y/n stop running!”

“No”

“Why?”

“You have the lurgy”

Winnie and Y/m/n was standing in the shared courtyard laughing at the two five year olds as James ran after Y/n, the latter running as fast as her little legs could move.

The two women became friends rather quickly after Y/n, her mom and dad moved in next door just when Y/n was a year old. Baby James and Y/n spent everyday since they were introduced to each other, together.

“Those two…” Winnie laughed with a shake of her head as James finally grabs ahold of Y/n, her screams of laughter makes both mothers laugh along.

That was until the screams of laughter turns in to screams of pain.

James tripped over a loose concrete slab, in turn knocking into Y/n causing her to fall face first on the ground. Smacking her face and cracking her tooth.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry Y/n I’m sorry” James cried backing up as their mothers came rushing over. His tiny hands shook as tears streamed down his puffy cheeks, he could see the blood flowing from her lips when her mom picked her up.

“Mo-momma it wa-was acciden-t I promise”

“I know sweetie, it’s okay” Winnie said after she helped her friend. Seeing her son shaking and crying as he backs up to the wall furthest away from them broke her heart, she and Y/m/n knew it was an accident and they both knew that James would never hurt his friend.

“I-it was accident” he hiccuped.

“Wan’ Jamie, mama wan’ Jamie”

Hearing her teary voice he pushed himself off the wall and ran around his ma going straight to Y/n. “I got you” whispering in to her hair as he wraps his arms around her.

December 24th 1922

As the fire crackled next to James and Y/n as they played with his toy trains and cars Y/n’s parents argued in the kitchen, from what Y/n could tell from this latest argument was that her dad had been fucking another woman. Again.

“Jamie what fucking mean?”

“I don’t know. I think it makes you cry”

“Mama always cries when dada fucking other women”

James shrugs, honestly feeling a little bit scared because of the raised voices and things being slammed down on the counters though he was just five years old he was trying to be brave in front of his friend.

The voices got louder as Y/n’s mom was pushing her dad into the hallway, screaming at him that this was the last time and for him to never come back. A photo frame that hung up on the wall falls and smashes loudly on the floor causing James to flinch, Y/n notices and takes his hand in hers smiling - she’s grown accustomed to the bangs, screaming matches and things being broken that it doesn’t bother her anymore.

James flinched once again when the front door opens and slams shut with a deafening bang. His scared wide eyes looked at Y/n’s, she gets up and moves to sit next to him as her mom screams once more and stomps up the stairs no doubt to chuck all of her fathers clothes out of the window.

“I got you”

She promised as she wraps her small arms around his body.

March 10th 1923

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE”

Y/n screamed as she ran over to him, she was so excited for his birthday she had made him a card and got him a new wooden train.

“Ahhh who are you little monster?” He screamed when she jumped on his back.

“‘M not a monster”

“You are”

“Not”

“Are”

“Kids stop arguing, you’re both monsters” Winnie laughed hugging Y/m/n.

“It’s my birthday Flower”

“No it’s my birthday”

“No it isn’t”

Both moms roll their eyes as the kids continue to argue, heading into the kitchen leaving both of them to stand in the hallway arguing.

Y/m/n was sipping the coffee that Winnie had made her, Winnie expressed how happy she was for her friend for not taking back her husband, though finding it sad that he hadn’t been around to see Y/n. Luckily George stepped up and had even brought the five year old a present for Christmas.

“Mama where is present?” Y/n asked running up to her mom.

“Here sweetie and here’s the card you made” handing over the present and card, Y/n smiled and thanked her.

“Here you go Jamie. I made the card all by myself!”

“Thank you Flower” opening the card he smiles at her messy handwriting and the drawing of him and her that she drew. James gave her a kiss on her cheek before handing the card over to Winnie, then he opened the brown paper wrapping. “Flower…”

“It’s a train Jamie”

“I-thank you so much!” James had his other one stolen from Jimmy who lived across the street, mean kid who loved to bully younger kids.

“It’s okay. Do you like it?”

“I love it Flower”

June 2nd 1930

James and Y/n were walking down the street talking about how school went when James grabbed her hand causing her to pull it away and blush, giggling when he tried to grab her again.

“Flower stop, listen do you hear that?”

“No-wait now I do, what is it? Do you think it’s an animal? Can we keep it?”

“Yeah because animals can speak” he rolls his eyes, moving towards the entrance of the alleyway where the noise was coming from he turned to Y/n “stay here-“

“No I’m coming with you!”

“No you’re not. Just stay here”

Nodding in defeat Y/n watched him walk down the alleyway, a few minutes later she sees Jimmy and his goons running out and down the street. Running in the direction that James went she came to a halt when she saw him picking up a guy who was a lot smaller than him.

“Jamie who’s that?”

“Flower I told you stay where I told you to”

“Who is that?”

“M-my names Steve” the blonde said fixing his shirt.

“Hello Steve my names Y/n and this is James” moving closer to them she held her hand out to the blonde, turning to James “can we keep him?”

“Y/n he’s not an animal”

“But can we? We can be best friends forever and ever and ever and-“

“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited sometimes” James said to Steve both watching Y/n go bright red as she continued to say ‘and ever’. “Flower breath”

“And ever and ever, please Jamie can we keep him I’ll be good forever and ever and ever-“

“Do you want to be our friend? Please say yes just to shut this one up”

Steve looked at both of them debating whether or not this was a prank, he’d gotten so use to being alone that the prospect of having two new friends scared him. But he could see the hopeful look in Y/n’s and James’s eyes, maybe just maybe this wasn’t a prank and maybe they genuinely want to be his friend.

“So…” Y/n asked getting impatient.

“O-ok, yes I’ll be your friend”

“Amazing! Come on we’re going to Mollys to get a burger-“

“And a milkshake! Have you ever been to Mollys? They make the best milkshake ever don’t they Jamie, they do so Stevie I swear”

“I apologise for her” James started.

Steve just smiled and shook his head “it’s okay bu-but I don’t have any money so I can’t come with you”

“Don’t worry about it Stevie I’ll pay for you. My father’s dead so we got money” Steve’s eyes went wide at how nonchalantly Y/n said that her father was dead.

“I-I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be I didn’t like him, so what milkshake do you want? They have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. My favourite is strawberry and chocolate and Jamies is chocolate”

“Oh I-I’ve never had-“

James rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. Steve looked at him wondering what he had said wrong when Y/n loudly gasped and threw herself on the ground.

“Flower-“

“He. Has. Never. Had. Milkshake. Before. Jamie”

“I know-“

“I-how, how does this even happen?”

“You going to get off the floor?”

“I can’t”

James leans over to take her hand in his and helped her stand. “Next time don’t throw yourself on the ground, your ma will get mad at you for ruining your skirt again”

“Come on Steve I’m going to blow your mind with the best milkshake in the world” ignoring James’s words she grabbed Steve’s hand and started to drag him to Mollys.

“Flower stop dragging him and be careful!”

To be truthful Steve didn’t honestly mind that she was dragging him along the pavement, he was quite excited about trying something new.

“Sooo whatcha think?” Y/n asked as soon as the glass was put in front of him.

“Flower he hasn’t even tried it yet” James laughed though he did have to admit that he was also wondering what his new friend was going to think of the drink.

Taking the straw in his mouth he took slow sips, liking the way it tasted straight away. “It’s good, I like it”

“Yes!” Y/n screamed causing some of the customers to look at her, not like she cared.

Luanne came over to serve them, she was an older lady who had grown use to the antics that James and Y/n liked to cause. As soon as she saw the two coming down the street she always had their milkshakes at the ready, knowing that on Monday, Tuesday and Friday Y/n had strawberry and the other days chocolate.

“Your usual darlings?”

“Yes please, Stevie what do you want?”

“I-I don’t have mo-“

“It’s on me I told you. We get burger and fries and they are the best”

“I-are you sure?”

“The best ever I promise”

“N-no about buying me food…you’ve already brought me a drink”

“Don’t be silly, do you want the same at us?”

“Okay, thank you”

Luanne smiled and walked away back to behind the counter. Steve watched as James or Bucky as he told him to call him, put his arm around Y/n’s shoulder and point at someone walking down the street. He couldn’t help but smile when Y/n laughed at whatever Bucky had said.

The food had come and true to her word it was amazing, Luanne came back over to hand them new drinks winking at Y/n who winked back, he found out that the second milkshakes were free. For the first time in Steve’s life he laughed and smiled genuinely, he had no idea that being beat up in some dingy alleyway would lead him to be making two new friends who actually seemed like they cared about him already.

Steve knew he had made two friends for life.

14th February 1931

“Hey Stevie” Y/n sang as she skipped up to him.

“Hey Y/n/n you still doing that?” Referring to her skipping, it was a new phase she was going through. Every where she went she skipped.

“Of course” she giggled.

“Where’s Bucky?”

“With his girlfriend” she grumbled. Poor James thought his best friend liked his girlfriend but Steve observant as always knew that this was indeed not the case.

“Yo-you still don’t like her I guess?”

“No. Are you okay? Is your eczema play-“

“Asthma, Y/n I have asthma”

“Oh yeah ah, is it playing up today?” Receiving a nod she nods too. “How about we walk super slow so you can catch your breath”

“I-I need to g-get back to home, n-need to help ma cle-clean up”

“That’s okay I’ll help you and your mom I don’t mind”

“A-ar-are you sure?”

“Of course, plus I’ve missed your mom”

Arriving at the Rogers’s residence Sarah greeted Y/n with a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek happy to see the young girl again. Ten minutes into cleaning Y/n told Steve to sit down as his asthma was getting worse, Sarah tried to help out but Y/n just shook her head and told her that it was fine.

She truly didn’t mind helping in cleaning up, she had grown use to having to do it at home since her mom was always working and her step father was too lazy and drunk most of the time to do it.

A year after kicking her father out of the house for the last time her mom got divorced from him as he was wanting to marry the woman he had been cheating on her with. Unfortunately her mom married another lazy man who only thought of himself.

But her mom was happy so Y/n was happy for her.

When her father died for some reason her mom received all his money. Which it had annoyed his new wife tremendously.

“It’s getting late darling, you should head home-oh just before you go here’s some mon-“

“No need to Mrs Sarah, I’ll see you tomorrow Stevie”

Waving goodbye and leaving the house before Sarah could argue about giving her money, skipping down the street she didn’t realise how dark it was when she was in the warm home that belonged to the Rogers.

As she got closer to home she came to a stop when she heard strange noises come from an alleyway, choosing to inspect the sounds she crept down the dark path, furrowing her eyebrows at hearing two different voices she was about to pop her head around before freezing.

“Oh Bucky” a girl moaned.

Slapping her hand across her mouth she started to stumble back. Of course she knew that James was going to be having sex, he was handsome and every girl wanted him, and of course she knew what they was doing she wasn’t stupid but hearing what followed after the girl moaned broke her heart.

He called his girlfriend Flower.

The name that he had always called her he was now calling someone else it. It was her nickname that he gave her since they was four and now he was calling some girl he had been dating for two months her name.

It broke her heart.

For three weeks she had managed to successfully avoid James she knew it was silly for not talking to her best friend over a nickname that he had every right to call someone else but she just couldn’t help but feel down knowing that she wasn’t his flower anymore.

“Y/n, Bucky and Steve’s here for you” her mom shouted from the door, she could hear her talking to them from where she was stood at from the top of the stairs.

Her heart dropped when her mom told both boys just to head up to her room. Scrambling and knocking over her little brother she ran into her room, shutting the door quietly before jumping on the springy mattress causing the metal bed frame to squeak loudly.

“Knock knock little monster” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Come in” and she also knew that he would be frowning at her response, it wasn’t the usual one she gave him.

“Hi Flower” if he noticed her tensing he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hi Y/n/n”

“Hi boys. What are you doing here?”

“Missed you, you haven’t been around much” James said watching her reaction.

“I’ve been busy” she shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Doing?” James knew that she was lying, whenever she did she could never look him in the eyes.

“Things”

“What kind of things?”

“Things James! I do not understand why you are so nosey”

“Because I miss my Flower” stating it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned when she flinched at his nickname for her. “W-what was that for? Why did you flinch”

“I-I don’t know what your talking about”

“You flinched when I called you Flower”

“You did Y/n” Steve interrupted, he did hate having to come in between his best friends but he knew that if he didn’t it would probably go on and on.

“I-“ sighing with a huff she shrugged her shoulders. She knew James better than anyone she knew he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. “I heard you”

“Heard me? What are you talking about?”

“Calling your girlfriend Flower”

“I-I’ve never-”

“In the alleyway when you were having sex”

Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet whilst James stood still like a statue. He couldn’t understand what the problem was, so what he was having sex at least it was with his girlfriend, why would his best friend be upset about that?

“You called her Flower James.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“I-you-it-“

“Whatever it’s just a nickname right? I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in weeks but it hurt Jamie, but she’s your girlfriend-“

“I broke up with her”

“Right…so can we be friends again?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”

“No. I just want to be your flower again”

“You’ve always have been Y/n, nobody will take that away from you”

Sliding off the bed she jumped on James, wrapping her arms and legs around him hugging him like she had never done before.

Yes it hurt because he had called someone else the name he had given her but she realised she was being silly for not talking to him over it, he was her best friend as well as Steve and that’s all that mattered.

December 10th 1941

The Second World War had been going on for three years and now America was getting involved after the attack on Pearl Harbour, it’s all everyone spoke about, before there was young men leaving their homes and families to go over to Britain to help fight, a fight they had no reason to be apart off other than to help beat the bad guys, now no one had a choice but to fight.

When James told Y/n that he too enlisted in the army it crushed her heart, she knew he was doing it to help defend his country but that didn’t stop her from being scared. Scared of losing him.

“I can do this all day” Steve panted as the guy tried to get closer to him and Y/n. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve’s confidence, she knew that he could not in fact do this all day. His asthma was getting the better of him.

Just as Steve was about to leap forward to defend himself and Y/n the guy was pulled away by the scruff of his jacket.

“Pick on someone your own size” James kicked the guy away, watching as the bully scramble away.

Y/n and Steve stood there frozen on the spot at seeing James dressed in his uniform.

It was really happening. She was going to lose her best friend.

“Why are you wearing that?”

“Because I’m a pirate. I’ve been recruited Flower, I ship out tomorrow” though James had a smile on his face his stomach churned at reminding himself of when he was going to fight, churned at not knowing when he was going to see his Flower or Steve again or if he ever would.

“Tomorrow? T-that’s not enough time-no Jamie you can’t-“

“I have to Y/n-“

“Tell them no.”

“You want me to tell the US Army no?”

“Yes”

“Flower”

“Or I’ll do it if your to chicken”

“Chicken? Really?”

“Guys stop arguing.” Steve tried to intervene but it was too late. He watched as his two best friends argued back and forth, feeling annoyed at the fact that he had been rejected once again no matter what name he used or what area he said he was from. And yet his best friend had been accepted by the Army and was allowed to go and fight against the bad guys.

“Anyway come on, we’re going to the Stark Expo”

What James failed to mention to the pair that he had a date with Connie or was it Bonnie? He couldn’t actually remember but whoever he was going on a date with the other girl was for Steve, he felt slightly bad that Y/n would have to be fifth wheeling even if he knew that she would end up leaving under the arm of some guy.

“-so I told him that he had to look after his own children you know? And guess what he said to me-Stevie? Ste-not again” Y/n muttered when she realised that not only had she been talking to herself for god knows how long, but when she turned around she saw the small frame of her best friend going into a recruiting tent that was set up at the Expo.

Following after him she watched as he went into a small makeshift room, entering she laughed when Steve tried to cover his naked chest.

“Steve seriously? You can’t keep doing this-“

“Why not? I can fight, just because I’m smaller then everyone including you doesn’t mean that I can’t help“

“You’d be killed straight away Steven!”

“So what?”

“So what? Steve-“

“I’ve agreed to be part of a science project for a doctor-“

“A science project? Steve what the hell are you talking about?”

“I-it doesn’t matter what does matter is that I’ve been accepted and I’m going to war”

“No. I forbid you from going”

“Forbid me?” Steve scoffed finding her behaviour stupid. He wanted to do that right thing and she was forbidding it. Ridiculous. “You can’t stop me Y/n”

“I-I don’t want to lose you too”

“What are you talking about? Buck will be fine”

“He might not Steve you don’t know this. I can’t-don’t want to lose my best friends please just stay with me here an-and wait for Ja-“

“No Y/n I’m doing this! Stop being selfish”

Being called selfish had whatever response she was going to reply back with to die on her tongue. Y/n was called selfish time and time again by her step father when she wouldn’t look after her siblings, his children. She had grown to detest that word, hated to be called it which James and Steve knew.

Steve instantly knew that he had messed up but before he could apologise he watched his best friend nod, spin on her heels and walked out.

James looked around with a smile on his lips when the flying car got higher off the ground frowning when he didn’t see Flower or Steve, his eyes darted around to find them, his left eye twitched slightly when he saw Y/n coming out of the recruiting tent he knew she had probably tried to talk to Steve out of signing up. 

Ever since the war was declared Steve had become slightly obsessed with going on the front lines along with the rest of the hero’s and fight. James and Y/n took it in turns to get Steve away from the recruiting centres, took it in turns comforting him when he got turned down because of his health problems.

Leaving the girls where they were he went to find Steve to see what had happened. “Steve seriously man just give up”

“Don’t start Buck I’ve had enough of Y/n trying to stop me.” Steve told Bucky how Dr Erskine had given him the opportunity of joining the war to the whole conversation between him and Y/n, he quietly told his best friend that he had called their friend selfish.

“You called her selfish? Steve!”

“I know okay I know I messed up but-“

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, I thought she was going to find you”

Bucky goes to reply when he gets interrupted by the two girls that he and Steve were meant to be on a date with, asking if they were still going dancing, James sighed before telling them no he had other plans. The girls wasn’t happy but James didn’t care, he needed to find his Flower.

Saying his goodbyes to Steve he turned on his heels to go to Y/n’s house.

Knocking on the door he waited patiently for someone to open, Y/n’s little sister opened and smiled instantly showing Bucky her missing front teeth. “Y/ns in her room”

“Thanks little one”

“‘M not little anymore!” She pouted, the same pout that reminded him of Y/n’s when she was younger.

“No, no you’re not” ruffling her hair he laughed when she tried to hit him, he’s always had a habit of winding up their younger siblings.

Bounding up the stairs nearly tripping over the toy train that belonged to her younger brother he turned the corner and knocked on Y/n’s bedroom door.

“Go away”

“Wow that’s rude Flower”

“Jamie?”

“Who else is calling you flower?”

“No one”

“Are you going let me in or we going to keep talking with a door in between us?”

“You may enter”

Entering her bedroom his heart clenched in his chest at seeing her eyes and cheeks red, tear strained track marks on her puffy cheeks. Ever since they were young he’s always hated seeing her cry.

His stomach dropping when he sees the photograph in her hands, knowing exactly which one it was. James had dragged Y/n and Steve to Coney Island for the day, James made Steve go on the Cyclone which was absolutely terrifying yet amazing at the same time. Steve didn’t quite enjoy it like Bucky or Y/n as he vomited pretty much everywhere.

Winnie, had taken the photo that morning they were standing outside the home James grew up in, smiling at the camera. Y/n in the middle of the two guys, Bucky had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around Steve.

It was the only photo she had of the three of them.

“Flower…”

“He’s leaving me too, a doctor-a scientist has told him that he can join if he takes part in an experiment James. I-I don’t want to lose you both Jamie”

“Hey-hey your not losing either one of us doll-“

“But I am. This war is dangerous and if I lose either one of you I-I-“

“I promise you that I’ll come back-“

“You can’t promise me that Buck”

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, you know this. And I’ll always come back to you Y/n, always. Especially if you let me make an honest woman out of you” his voice went quieter, serious, hopeful that she would hear the genuine words that he spoke.

“You…want to-after going on a date with someone else on your last night of freedom-want to make an honest woman out of me?”

“I, yes. Y/n flower it’s always been you”

“I should be the one making an honest woman out of you-wait-what?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her facial expression when she finally registers his words “I’ve been in love with you for so long Y/n”

“And you’re telling me this the night before you ship off to god knows where?”

“You know me Flower, I’ve always been good with timing”

“You really aren’t” she laughed.

“Am too. But what do you say? When I get back I’ll marry you, get us a nice house maybe on a farm? We can have all the animals you want-yes even a dinosaur even though they don’t exist-and we’ll have children, and we can be happy forever”

“Y-you really want that with me?”

“There’s no one else in this world that I want that life with Flower”

Instead of verbally answering she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding so fast Bucky thought her head might fall off. Bucky held her face in between his hands just staring at her, he knew that she would never see herself in the same way he has always seen her, he lent in pressing his lips to hers hopefully being able to show her how much he loved her without saying those words out loud.

That night they slept arm in arm with one another both equally dreading for the sun to come up.

When the sun finally made an appearance, he left with the promise that he would be back in an hour so that their families could walk him to the docks, and not without stealing another kiss from her.

Hand in hand an hour later with Winnie, Rebecca, Y/m/n, Y/n’s stepdad and siblings met up with Steve who was waiting outside Mollys with three milkshakes. Everyone walked ahead whilst the three best friends walked slowly behind them, wanting to try and delay the inevitable.

“My promise still stands Flower, I’ll come home and we’ll have the perfect life together. I promise”

“You best come home to me then Jamie or I’ll beat you up”

“Wouldn’t doubt that for a second” he chuckled, everyone else joins in. “I promise to be safe and come home to you Flower. And I’ll write to you when I can okay?”

“I’ll write back to you I promise.”

When the last signal called for all soldiers to get on the ship, Bucky swallowed the sob that tried to make its way out of his plumb lips. Hugging his ma and sister one last time, and his best friends mom and siblings before making his way to Steve, hugging Steve he asked the blonde to look after Y/n which Steve promised he would. Standing in front of Y/n he smiled sadly and wiped her tears away before kissing her one last time, he’d already grown addicted to the way she tasted and the way her lips fit perfectly against his.

He couldn’t wait until he got back so he could spend the rest of his life kissing her.

March 15th 1942

“Y/n there’s a letter here for you!” Her little sister shouted from the bottom of the stairs, there was only one person that would be writing to her, hearing her sister she fell out of the bed with how fast she was trying to get out of it, running down the stairs she grabbed the letter out of her sisters hand.

“Y/n slow down” her mom tried to warn her but it was no use she was already running back upstairs. The excitement getting the better of her. Ripping open the envelope she settled back on her bed.

***

Dear Flower,

It’s been three months since I last saw you and I’m missing you more and more everyday, how are you? Have you been missing me? How’s Steve been? I’ve wrote to him too but I know you’ll tell me the truth.

I’m still holding on to my promise I made so don’t be finding any other man, please.

I’m sorry it’s not the longest letter but I don’t have much time, I’m sorry.

I love you Flower, I should have told you that the last time I saw you but just know I do with all my heart, I’ll see you soon.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

“So…what did he say?” Y/n was so engrossed in the letter she didn’t hear her bedroom door squeak open or see her mom and sister standing in the doorway.

“H-he said he loves me, momma he loves me”

“Have you only just noticed?”

“What?”

“That boy has been in love with you for as long as I can recall” her mom said as matter of factly.

“I-I need paper a-an-and a pen I need to tell him that I love him too”

Her mom smiled before handing her a piece of paper and a pen that she hid behind her back, she even gave her money so she could get a stamp to put on the letter.

***

Dear Jamie,

I love you.

I’ve been doing good, helping down at the factory with the rest of the women it’s good, I’ve made a friend her names Dot her husband is also fighting, she’s got two kids and Jamie they are the cutest little kids I’ve seen! Of course I have been missing you Jamie! Steve’s doing okay, he’s got a crush on a British woman names Peggy (but don’t tell him I told you that) she’s pretty, smart and really nice. I think she likes him too!

No other man will take me away from you Jamie I promise, I can’t wait to marry you and be able to wind you up for the rest of our lives together, I’m joking. Or am I?

Don’t apologise for your letter being short, anything is better than not having any from you, as long as you are okay and safe that’s all that matters to me.

I love you with all my heart to Jamie, honestly and truly.

Be safe and come home to me.

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Folding the letter and sliding it in an envelope her mom had given her when she was writing, she slipped her letter into the envelope sealing it off she ran downstairs slipping her shoes on she ran out of the house and down the street to the post office.

“A-a s-stamp pl-please” she panted at the worker.

The second the stamp was sealed securely on her envelope she posted it. Her heart raising rapidly, the temptation to just stand there and wait for the mailman to collect all the letters was there until someone cleared their throat from behind her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she muttered before leaving, now she just had to wait now until Bucky wrote her back. Shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.

June 21st 1943

She last received a letter from James three months ago, he told her where he was and how he was doing, told her all about his comrades, told her that he’d come back to her. Ended that letter like the rest, with him telling her how much he loved her. Writing back as quickly as possible she told him how things were going, telling him about her news friends from the factory, and like all the others she ended it with telling him how much she loved him.

Everyday for three months she waited patiently for a letter to come, sighing deeply when she never received one. She was starting to get nervous at the prospect of something bad happening to him, but she kept pushing that thought away as she saw Rebecca everyday at the factory and she hadn’t said anything to her.

Six months after James left for war Y/n moved to a small apartment above the post office, it was small but enough for just her. One night after finishing her shift at the factory, Mary who worked at the post office came running out to her handing her a letter, Y/n ran up the stairs struggled to open her front door like always before she managed to get it to open, quickly closing and locking the door - keeping her promise to James who had made her promise to keep her front door locked at all times.

***

Dear Flower,

I’ve missed you terribly. How are you? I hope you’re okay and safe.

How’s Steve doing? He’s not been really responding to my letters. I’m a bit worried about him.

I’m sorry my letters are getting shorter, it’s just things have been hectic lately.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day and night, I’ll come home soon and I’m all yours forever I promise.

I love you more than anything Y/n.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

Wiping her tears she moved to get her paper and pen, settling on her couch she started to write.

***

Dear Jamie,

I’m missing you more and more every day, I’m doing okay and I’m safe, you do not need to worry about me just as long as you are safe and sound that’s all that matters to me.

Steve will be getting the serum tomorrow (22nd June) I’m scared for him but Peggy has told me that everything will be okay. She’s even said I can come along too, Rebecca has said she will cover my shift because she’s an angel. Steve’s been busy but he’s okay I promise, oh…he jumped on a grenade BUT don’t worry it wasn’t a real one! I screamed and cried when Peggy told me, then I smacked Steve…he deserved it.

I’ve already told you not to worry about the shortness of your letters, I reread every single one of them over and over again.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers day in and day out.

I love you more and more than you’ll ever know. 

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Sealing the letter in the envelope she unlocked the door and skipped downstairs where Mary unlocked the door and handed her a stamp, Mary knew the routine that Y/n had every time she got a letter that she waited long after closing so her new friend could post it that same day.

“Thanks Mary”

“Don’t need to thank me, how is he?”

“He didn’t say…but he said he misses me, it’s hectic over there so”

“It’s understandable, are you meeting Steve and that Brit tomorrow?”

“Peggy-“ Y/n laughed “-and yes, it’s a very big day tomorrow”

“What’s happened again?”

“H-he has a special operation and I’m just going for emotional support” she smiled, Peggy told her not to say anything to anyone but Mary had overheard Y/n talking to Steve about it. So she told her Mary that it was an operation he was having.

“Well I hope it goes well. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight darling”

The next morning Y/n waited outside for Steve and Peggy to show up, nearly ten minutes later a sleek black car pulled up and Peggy got out greeting her. Instantly regretting sitting in the middle of two people who were flirting, made worse by Steve as he didn’t realise that Peggy was in fact flirting.

Just like the car ride Y/n blanked out most of what Dr Erskine was waffling on about, her eyes kept going to the bed where Steve lay strapped in to Howard Stark, still slightly star struck.

Everything happened next was lost on her. Her heart raced when she heard Steve screaming in the chamber, a beast of a man was released from said chamber it looked like Steve, her best friend Stevie but this guy was huge. Strong. Muscly. Taller.

Before Steve had to look up to her and now it was the other way around. He said her name and smiled, he pulled her into his arms as she gaped at her best friend’s transformation. Steve released her to look at Peggy as she moved closer.

The unmistakable bang of a gun firing sounded in the room, Steve wasted no time in knocking Y/n on the ground covering her body with his. Dr Erskine had been shot, Steve took off barefoot after the gunman, Y/n’s hands were drenched in blood as she tried to put pressure on the wound, Howard Stark helping her by covering his hands over hers.

It all happened in a blur.

It all happened to fast.

She didn’t like it, she was scared.

She wanted Jamie.

She was always safe with her Jamie.

“Y/n? Y/n look at me love, it’s Peggy. I need you to concentrate”

But she couldn’t. There was too much blood. There was chaos in the background and the only thing she could focus on was the shaking of her hands covered in someone else’s blood.

“Y/n please darling snap out of it” that sounded a lot like Howard she thought to herself.

She could hear them talking then she saw Howard standing and moving away slowly. Then everything came into focus. The look of distress in Peggy’s eyes, the destruction of the room, the white sheet covering a body.

“S-Steve?”

“He’s, he’s okay. We need to go love”

“I-I-I want Jamie”

“I know but he isn’t here right now an-and he will be rather mad at me if I don’t get you out of here, so please follow me”

Despite the blood on Y/n’s hands Peggy still took them in hers and helped her stand, although Peggy didn’t really know Y/n all that well she knew that Steve cared deeply for her, making her care about the woman. Her main focus was getting Y/n to safety and then she could worry about everything else.

December 10th 1944

It’s been well over a year since Y/n watched Dr Erskine get shot and killed, in that year she went back to work in the factory. Nothing really changed for her in that year that had gone by, months would go by without a letter from Bucky she knew that he was still alive as his family wasn’t informed to state that he was dead.

It brought her some relief. But that didn’t stop the sadness from sinking in when she didn’t get a letter.

Steve had become a circus monkey for America, gaining himself the name Captain America. When she saw one of his shows for the very first time she couldn’t stop laughing. The outfit. The way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable. The music. The acting. It was laughable.

“Stop laughing Y/n” Steve said walking into the tent as she followed behind him.

“I-god you look ridiculous Stevie”

“Stop laughing!” He tried to act mad but her laugh had his lips turning upwards. For Steve it had been a long time since he heard her laugh like that. He missed it.

In October of 1943 Steve showed up at her apartment acting different, he was quieter, avoided talking about Bucky. Y/n had asked him if there was something wrong but all he did was give her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.

He wanted to tell her that he was told that Bucky and his unit had been captured as POWs, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to do everything in his power to get him back, to bring him home to her so they could get the life he’s knows they’ve always wanted with each other. 

But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to say them words and see her smile fade, tears gather in her eyes so he remained silent and listened to her rambling about something one of the girls said at work.

He couldn’t fail her, he was going to bring Bucky back no matter what it took.

Unbeknownst to Y/n not only was Bucky captured and then saved by their once scrawny little friend but that in ten minutes there was going to be a knock at the door and she’d be taken by two soldiers to go somewhere.

“It’s like I’m invisible” Bucky mutters when Peggy doesn’t even give him a second glance, he found it funny that Peggy had to practically spell it out for the blonde to understand what she was trying to hint. He knew that if Y/n was here and saw the exchange she would have been smiling so wide with her hands clasped together against her heart.

A small smile made its way to his lips as he thought about Y/n, his Flower. As soon as he got back to camp from being saved by Steve he went straight to his tent and wrote a letter to her, sealing it up in an envelope he got from one of the soldiers, giving it to the person he needed to for it to be sent off. Already excited for her letter. He missed her more than anything.

“You thinking about her Buck?” Steve’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Of course, she’s always on my mind-what?”

“Who’s always on your mind?”

“Ms Potts from down the street-“ he rolled his eyes “-Y/n, you’re an idiot sometimes Steve I swear”

“I’m always on your mind Jamie?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide looking Steve in the eyes, the blonde just smiled at him. Slowly turning around, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears he turned to find the source of the voice he has missed hearing.

Well aware that his unit, his team, strangers that became friends were standing around, he didn’t care if they saw their Sergeant with tears gathering in his eyes.

He didn’t care about anything other than Y/n who was currently standing in front of him. Her flower print dress fit perfectly, lightly moving as she stands there. Her eyes focused on him as he took her in, god she was so beautiful.

“F-Flower?”

“Hi Jamie”

“Wha-how-your really here? I’m not dreaming again am I?”

“No” she giggled, the sound making his heart tingle.

“If you don’t kiss her I will” Dum Dum shouted making everyone laugh. But not Bucky. No it made him move quicker than he’d ever moved before, cupping her face in his hands he smiled before placing his lips to hers. Steve joined in with everyone else as they cheered and clapped. 

“You’re really here” Bucky whispered against her lips, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent.

“I’m really here”

That night he took her to his hotel room that they had been allowed to stay at, and made love to her for the first time. Three times that night. One more time before they had to say goodbye to each other again.

Just as she was about to get into the car Bucky kissed her one last time, and got down on one knee, proposing to her with a metal nut - that he had found in the room they shared - asking her to marry him before she could answer he promised that once he was back he’d buy her a ring.

Kissing him she held out her hand for him to slid the nut onto her finger.

“I’m getting married to my Flower” he said as the car that carried his love away. Steve smiled at his best friend’s happiness.

January 28th 1945

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dot asked Y/n as she threw up for the second time that day.

“I’m okay. Must have been something I ate”

“You sure? Didn’t you say you saw James last month?”

“Yes…why?”

“Did you two…you know”

“Wha-oh, yes, a few times” she admitted, her cheeks going bright red.

“Do you think? Maybe? Right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You might be pregnant” Dot whispered.

Her head spun as the words from her friend settled in. She hadn’t had her period she realised. No. Surely not, right?

“Go and see the doctor after your shift and check” Dot continued.

“I have half an hour off before I start back up again”

“I’ll cover you”

“You’ve got kids you need to-“

“My mom’s here to help me, I’ll be fine”

“But-“

“No buts missy, you need to find out if you are.”

After twenty minutes of arguing back and forth with Dot, Y/n finally caved. Going to the hospital she waited patiently for her bloods to be taken. Completely unaware that across town two families were receiving the worst news.

Getting her keys out of her bag she froze when she saw Steve standing outside her apartment dressed in civilian clothing as Bucky called it now.

“Steve? Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Y/n, I need to talk to you”

“Is it Jamie? Steve? Where’s Bucky?”

But Steve didn’t answer instead he took her keys from her shaking hands and unlocked the door, pushing it open he turned to grasp her arm and guided her in to her apartment. His heart sinking further into his stomach than it already was before coming to her apartment, when he saw the metal nut still sitting on her finger.

“Steve…”

“I failed you Y/n/n I-I’m so sorry”

“He’s okay. He is. I know it”

Shaking his head the scene replying over and over in his head like it had for the past week since he watched his best friend fall to his death “H-he-he’s gone Y/n, I’m so-sorry” He jumps up just in time to catch her as she falls to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips.

Sadly Steve wasn’t done.

“Y/n…there’s something else, Michael…he’s been killed”

Michael was her half brother. She was close with him, closer to him than she was with her younger siblings. Michael never failed to make her laugh, he always acted like he was the oldest one of the two though there was eight years between them. Y/n was the first person he told when he got his orders from the Army, she hugged him as he cried. It’s not that he didn’t want to fight and help it was that he was terrified.

“No! No you’re lying.”

Helping her stand he took her home where her mom’s screams and cries could be heard from outside the home. Watching as mom and daughter cling together from the doorway Steve let a few tears fall.

Two days after finding out that her best friend turned fiancé and her sweet younger brother were killed Y/n found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later they buried Michael.

On the second of March 1945 Peggy arrived at Y/n’s apartment, eyes red and swollen. They held each other as they cried. Y/n gathered that Steve never got his letter to let him know he was going to be an uncle.

When Peggy noticed the small prodding bump her heart ached. She knew she had to keep the promise that she gave Steve, that she would look after Y/n. Steve had told Peggy that just before Bucky fell he told the blonde to look after his fiancée, the two best friend’s last thoughts were on their best friend and fiancée. Neither one knowing that she pregnant.

A month later Y/n and her family, Winnie and Rebecca were at the cemetery, she smiled sadly when she felt her baby kick for the first time when the preacher said James Buchanan Barnes, they watched as two empty coffins were put into the ground.

She knew that the baby she was growing inside of her would have been so loved and spoiled by its father and uncle Stevie, it broke her heart knowing that her unborn baby would never meet the two greatest men she had ever known.

Five years passed after she lost three men closest to her. After she gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl that she named Hope Jamie Barnes, she moved out of the tiny little apartment she had and moved into a farm house that had acres of land.

Just because her Jamie wasn’t with her anymore didn’t mean she was going to give up on the life that he had planned for them. She still wore that metal nut, everyone thought it was strange but luckily for her they never asked about it. However it no longer sat on her finger but around her neck on a silver chain.

A wedding ring sat there now instead.

Two years after Hope was born her mom made her get married. “You’re twenty nine now Y/n you need a husband” her mom told her, reluctantly she agreed and married a man named Frank. At first Frank was okay, nice even but things changed only after a few months of marriage. It started with small things such as telling her what to wear, how to act. Then it turned nasty, the abuse was mental, verbal and physical.

Three years into their marriage she had become numb and use to it all. Became use to the women talking and giggling like school girls when they saw her in the store or on the streets, the same women who were sleeping with her husband. It didn’t bother her anymore that her husband was cheating on her, the more women he had to satisfy him the more he was away from her home, the less she got beaten and berated.

It didn’t even bother her that he had gotten one of his mistresses pregnant or when the mistress’s husband found out and beat Frank to within an inch of his life. In fact she smiled.

Y/n and Peggy’s friendship became non existent after Y/n got married and Peggy married Daniel Sousa, when Peggy and Daniel started dating Peggy had asked Y/n if she was wrong for it but Y/n told her that she deserved to be happy and if he gave that to her then she should have that happiness.

Peggy worried if Steve would have been mad, Y/n had to remind her that he wouldn’t have wanted her to live a life of loneliness.

When Hope was five she was wise for her age, she knew Frank wasn’t her father, she knew her daddy had passed away when he protected the country from the bad guys. Hope enjoyed her nighttime stories where her mama would tell her all about her father, hearing about how funny, kind and loving her father was always made the little girl smile. One night Y/n showed Hope the few photographs she had of James, Hope giggled and pointed at her eyes and then at James’s “same mommy same”. It was true, Hope had the same colour eyes as Bucky and like Bucky’s eyes they changed lighter when she was happy or giggling, turned darker when she was sad or when she was poorly.

Every Sunday Y/n and Hope had a routine, they would go to the cemetery to put flowers down on the graves of James and Steve. They would sit on a blanket and eat the sandwiches that Y/n would take with them, they would sit, eat and talk for hours - depending on the weather. Hope would show the headstones all her drawings and tell them all about her schooling and friends, told them her favourite colour - the rainbow that’s her favourite colour.

Y/n knew that there was no bodies in the coffins but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit there with her daughter in her lap and tell the two empty graves that she loved and missed them. Every time.

It was still a tradition that they both did even as Y/n got older and weaker.

In 1970 her husband was killed, Franks brother Robert was arrested and charged with his murder. Robert found out that his wife was having an affair with his brother. Y/n went to see him in prison after Robert sent her a letter begging her to see him, he swore that he didn’t do it. That it was a man with a silver arm. Y/n believed him when he said he didn’t do it, he was with his sister, her husband and their children, along with Robert’s children. But she didn’t believe him about a man with a silver arm, that was a bit far fetched.

At Franks funeral Y/n stood there with Hope on her left side and the nine children he had with nine different women. She tried to comfort the children he had with the women he had cheated on her with, they allowed it until everyone left and it was just them standing at the grave. His oldest started laughing causing the others to join in, Hope looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow that reminded her so much of Bucky, she just shrugged.

They told Y/n that they were happy he was finally gone. Told her that they hated him and was glad he was dead.

It surprised her but they were at the age where they realised that their parents marriages broke up when their mom cheated on their dad, or when they saw Frank hit their mom. It was nine teenagers/young adults who knew that what the preacher was saying as the coffin was lowered in the ground that it was all lies, he wasn’t a good man, he wasn’t a good husband or father, he was everything they hated. He was everything the five boys had promised that they would never turn in to. He was everything the four girls promised that they would never end up with.

They all kept in touch throughout the years, it was nice. And through them years all nine of his offspring kept their promises.

As the years went on Y/n became more and more proud of Hope and the woman she had become. Hope got married and had children, her first born son was named James, her second son was named Steve.

“M-mom there’s someone here to see you” Hope stuttered from the doorway.

“W-who i-is it darling?”

“I-he-hold on”

Hope appeared at the door with a nervous smile on her face, her fingers twisting together as a man walked slowly towards her. His eyes going to the woman and then to the man behind him, he was scared.

“Hope?”

“Mom-“

Y/n slowly turned to face the doorway, her eyes widening as she sees the ghost of her best friend towering over her daughter.

“S-Stevie? You’ve come to take me to Jamie?”

Steve frowned looking at the woman who was the last person on his mind before the plane crashed in to the water, his best friend who had aged yet her eyes remained the same. Then he looked at Hope confusion written on his face, she looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“Mom I’m just going to get you a drink.” Nodding her head to Steve and Sam to follow her she went into the kitchen. “She thinks your taking her to heaven to see my dad”

“Dad?”

“James? He’s my father”

Steve’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. When Hope answered the door telling him that she was Y/n’s daughter he assumed that she had married and had children, he did not expect the woman in front of him to be the daughter of his best friend who he watched fall to his death.

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes is my father…you’re my uncle, well that’s what my mom always called you.”

“Oh. Now I see it, it’s your eyes”

“Mom always said I had the same eyes as him” she laughed.

Steve goes to open his mouth when there’s a sound of a cane hitting the floor, all three turn to face the doorway where Y/n stood.

“Are you re-really alive and not just m-my imagination?”

“I’m really here Y/n/n”

“H-how?”

“When I crashed the plane-ow stop hitting me” he cries out when she hits him with her walking cane, Sam and Hope laugh.

“Still mad at you for crashing that plane”

“I’m sorry. I was frozen and they found me a few years ago” Steve finished his explanation. Y/n nodded and sat down, being ninety five years old her legs weren’t as strong as they once were.

“This is my daughter, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is, she’s got Bucky’s eyes”

“Yes she has. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Sam, he’s the one that helped me track you down”

“I-it’s nice to meet you Sam.” When Y/n reached out to shake Sam’s hand Steve noticed a glint of a necklace. He watched as her free hand went to the necklace and started lightly tugging on it, he wasn’t the only one.

“Mom? Mom your alright, your safe don’t worry” Hope says softly, moving closer slowly. Sam looked at Steve worriedly.

“I-I don’t-don’t let him hurt me anymore”

“Mom he’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore I promise” Hope helped pull the necklace out, handing her the thing she knew her mom was trying to hold.

Steve’s breath get caught in his throat at seeing the metal nut Bucky gave her all those years ago.

“S-Steve? Your dead. Hope wh-who is he? I-it’s not Stevie, he’s dead”

“It’s okay mom, he’s a friend. Let’s get you back to bed okay?” Turning to Steve and Sam telling them she’d be back in a few, they both nod.

Waiting patiently in the kitchen Steve can hear Hope calm Y/n down, his heart breaking when Y/n asks for Jamie. When Hope comes downstairs she offers the two a drink, both declines politely.

“Mom keeps forgetting things, she’s been like this for a while now.”

“The thing on her necklace, what is it?” Though he knew he just couldn’t see it lasting this long or that she even kept it.

“My dad proposed to her with it, it’s a nut. She’s kept it on her chain ever since-well, she’s wore it since he gave it her”

“Did she ever marry? Have other kids?”

“Yes, he died in 1970 and no I’m her only child”

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologise, bastard deserved it”

After an hour or so the men take their leave, the blonde asking if he was able to come back and see Y/n again, Hope said yes.

The year was now 2016, Y/n’s health declining as she was nearing one hundred. The doctors told Hope that it would be better to keep her in hospital for the rest of her time on earth, Hope told them that, that wasn’t going to happen. Y/n had told Hope that when she was going to die that she wanted to go when she was at home. No matter what.

Steve had showed up one day to talk to Hope, to tell her that her father was alive after all this time. Hope begged him not to tell Y/n. Y/n struggled to understand and come to terms with the fact that Steve was alive, she had grown so confused that she started to tug on her necklace. Hope didn’t want to imagine how her mom would react to the news that the love of her life was alive, not when she spent so long mourning him.

At first Steve was confused but understood at the same time. He told Hope that he and Bucky fought and the only way he could get him to snap out of whatever Hydra had done to him was by saying Y/ns name, Hope smiled at that. Hope asked Steve if he had told James all about her and how her mom was still alive, Steve said no but with her permission he would. And he did.

After seventy years of going without a father it was strange when she met Bucky for the first time, a man who didn’t look a day over thirty was her father when she looked like his mother, it was strange.

Bucky cried. Cried for never knowing Y/n was pregnant in the first place. Cried for never being there throughout Hope growing in her mother’s stomach. Cried for never being there for either one of them for nearly seventy years. Hugging his daughter for the first time ever Bucky crumbled.

Hope was very honest about hers and Y/n’s life, told Bucky how Y/n’s husband was a cheating abusive arsehole. Both Bucky and Steve clenched their fists at hearing that. Shocked when Hope told them that apparently a man with a silver arm had killed Frank, and because Bucky had his arm covered and gloves on Hope didn’t realise that it was her father that did it.

Bucky was open and honest about what had happened to him, expecting his daughter to look at him differently so when she threw her arms around him and cried he was shocked.

It took Bucky exactly twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds for him to ask when he could see Y/n. Having to think it over she agreed but on the condition that she was the one that would tell Y/n the truth.

Telling her mom that the man she had still been in love with after all those years since she had lost him, that he was still alive was the hardest conversation she had to have with her mom. Y/n didn’t believe her, of course she didn’t she’s spent seventy years mourning him. Seventy years wishing she saw him again, hoping and praying that he would still love her the way she still loved him.

Hope told Y/n that she had met him, hugged him, laughed with him but she still didn’t believe her.

A week after telling Y/n that Bucky was still alive her health deteriorated. Hope had to tell Bucky and Steve that Y/n didn’t have long left. Bucky was determined to see his love for the last time.

James stood in front of the house that Y/n had made a home since she left Brooklyn, the two floored farm house stood proudly in front of acres of land, due to his enhanced senses he could smell the lingering smell of animal food and waste. Hope had told him all about the animals Y/n rescued over the years, told him that when she was seven they had three horses, cows and goats, that in recent years Y/n had been rescuing cats and dogs from the streets or abusive homes rehoming them to those she trusted. Bucky smiled at hearing that she had lived the life he wanted for the both of them, smiled at hearing that Y/n’s kindness and love for animals never stopped.

Checking his hair was fine for the umpteenth time in the two hours it took them to get there he turned to face Steve.

“You ready Buck?”

“Y-yeah” Steve knocks on the door and they both wait patiently for Hope to answer. 

“Hi, come on in-oh”

“T-they wanted to come, hope that’s okay” Bucky explained. Behind him and Steve stood the rest of the Avengers.

“We’ve heard all about your mom ever since blondie came out of ice, wanted to meet her” Tony spoke leaning in between the two super soldiers to hold his hand out.

“Oh right, come in.” Leading them all upstairs where Y/n was, Bucky’s nerves sky rocketed the closer he got to the bedroom. “You ready?” Hope asked.

“Yeah. She knows I’m here right?”

“She does, if it helps she’s nervous too”

Nodding his head he watched with a steady breath as his daughter - which he still found weird saying - twisted the door knob and opened the door.

Though older and frail Bucky thought she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes stayed on her face as he moved closer, with every step he took his heart started to beat slower.

“J-Jamie?”

Wetting his lips and gulping he nodded “hi Flower”

“Took you long enough to come and get me”

“I know my love b-but I’m here now”

“Are we going to see Stevie?”

“Stevie’s right here darling”

“Is my mama going to be there too?”

Frowning he looked back to Hope as she stands at the doorway with everyone behind her. Hope shook her head and mouthed “she thinks you’re taking her to heaven”.  His frown deepened, looking back at Y/n whose eyes didn’t move away from him.

“I’ve missed you Flower”

“I’ve missed you too Jamie. Ha-have you met Hope? She’s your daughter Jamie”

“I have met her, beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is. The best thing I’ve ever done”

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve raised our daughter amazingly”

“Sit down silly” sitting on bed next to her he took his gloves off and held both her hands when she reached for him. Y/n didn’t flinch when his silver hand touched her. “Don’t let Frank hurt Hope okay? Y-you have to promise me Jamie th-that you’ll lo-look after her”

“Doll he’s-I promise that no one will ever hurt her”

“Good. He’s mean. He hurts me Jamie”

“I know doll I know, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him”

“Not your fa-wh-who are they Jamie?”

“They’re Stevies friends Flower”

Hope nudged Steve further into the room and nods to the others letting them know it’s okay for them to go in too. Steve says hello and introduces the team to her, each giving her a smile.

For three hours Steve and Y/n talked about growing up together and all the things they use to get up to, everyone laughed and asked Y/n questions about the two super soldiers, she answered them as best as she could sometimes she repeated herself or looked panicked when she saw strangers standing in her room.

Bucky though held her hand with the both of his, his eyes on her the whole time. Tracing over each line with his eyes, his heart clenching when he saw the unmistakable sight of a scar that ran down the side of her face.

His breath got caught in his throat when she took out the metal nut around the necklace. “Y-you kept it?” He asked interrupting when Sam was talking about.

“My Jamie gave it me during the war, he proposed to me” she smiled “you look like him”

“Do I?”

“Yes, but my Jamie was more handsome”

“Was he now?”

“Oh yes-“ a yawn cuts her off. Hope tells everyone that it was best if they left now so she could get some rest, and they do. Each say their goodbyes and waits for Steve and Bucky downstairs.

“We’ll come and see you tomorrow okay?” Steve says after he pulls away from giving her a hug and a kiss to her forehead. Y/n nods and smiles. “I’ll wait for downstairs Buck”

Bucky nods, then looks at Hope who understands without being verbally told that Bucky wanted a few minutes alone, she follows behind Steve.

“I have always loved you, you know? I still love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home to you when I promised you over and over that I would, I’m sorry I let you down Flower”

“Y-you didn’t let me down Jamie, never.”

Bucky smiles softly at her, watching as her eyes start to droop. “I’ll let you get some rest my love. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise”

“O-okay Jamie. S-see you tom-tomorrow” Giving her a kiss to her forehead he stands and moves to the door, taking one last look at his first and only love.

“Thank you for the best years of my life”

He says before shutting the door and heads slowly down the stairs.

After Hope says her goodbyes and gives her dad a hug she busies herself cleaning the kitchen, she smiles happily to herself seeing her parents together something she had always wanted to experience.

She doesn’t know that her mom is in her bed with her hand wrapped around the piece of metal that she had wore and cherished from the moment James gave it her, she doesn’t know her mom is thinking about meeting her Jamie again.

She doesn’t know that her mom takes her last breath with a small smile on her lips.

A year after loosing the love of his life Bucky had to bury his only daughter, heart attack took her. In 2023 Tony had perfected his father’s Time Machine with the help from Bruce. Steve was going to be returning the stones, they all gathered together in the empty space and watched as Steve vanished.

“4…3…2…1” Bruce counted down for Steve’s arrival.

Once the smoke cleared Bucky had his eyes down as he knew that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back, he knew he was going to go back to live a life with Peggy. His head snapped up when he heard the voice that he always heard in his sleep.

There stood on the platform was Steve, Y/n and a two year old Hope.

“Fl-Flower”

“You died Jamie. You promised me you would be safe but-“

Bucky cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers, holding both of his flowers tightly.

One month after Steve brought Y/n and Hope to the future, Bucky and Y/n got married. A month after that she finds out that baby Barnes number two would be arriving.

“I love you Flower”

“I love you Jamie”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[ylangelegy]

double trouble 🩰 seokmin x reader x mingyu.

one pouty boyfriend is already a handful, but two? well, you're just asking for it at this point.

★ poly!seokmin x reader x mingyu. ★ word count: 1.7k + leftovers! ★ genre/warnings: f!reader, established poly relationship, pet names, mentions of food, bickering, fluff!!!, seok & gyu are pouty, reader is left-handed/has a pet. self-indulgent as hell, but we ball. ★ footnotes: written very specifically with (and for) @shinwonderful in mind 🎁 this is my [early] christmas to u! ilysb. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

You haven't had a day of peace since you started dating Mingyu and Seokmin.

This is not to be mistaken with ungratefulness. The two boys are the literal loves of your life, and you know how lucky you are that you don't have to choose. That you get to adore them both in equal measure.

Except their favorite pastime seems to be insisting that it's not equal.

Today is one such day, with Seokmin playing the role of the offended party.

The three of you had gone out for lunch and, as per usual, you slid into the booth seat with Mingyu. Seokmin— who typically uncomplainingly took the seat across from the two of you— was now sporting his best wounded puppy look. It's an expression you've gone familiar with over the course of your relationship.

The jut out lower lip. The drawn together brows. The languid way he plays with one of his fries as Mingyu chatters on and on about the show that the three of you are watching.

When Mingyu pauses to take a sip of his cola, you take the opportunity to get a word in edgewise.

"Something wrong, Seok?" you ask your boyfriend delicately.

Seokmin looks up from the fry that he had been dragging across his plate. "Nothing's wrong," he responds in a tone that very much indicates something is wrong.

You start a mental countdown. One, two—

"Why is it that Gyu always gets to sit next to you when the three of us are out together?" he blurts out.

Ah, there it is.

"We should, like, have a rotational system or something," Seokmin grumbles with a forceful jab of his fry into his ketchup. "Like, if Mingyu sat next to you this date, I get to do it on the next one."

Before you can respond, Mingyu is already jumping in. "Wanna know why she's always sitting next to me, Seok?" he sing-songs, leaning across the table like he might say something of genuine consequence.

"It's because she loooves me more," Mingyu announces.

You give Mingyu a playful smack on the shoulder just as Seokmin flicks his fry at the other man. "Hey, hey—!" cries Mingyu, caught between shielding himself from your hit and addressing the ketchup stain on his shoulder. He goes to fix the latter first, mumbling incoherent cusses under his breath.

You turn your attention to Seokmin. "It's only because we're both left-handed, love," you reassure him. "I didn't want us to be accidentally elbowing you all throughout lunch."

"I wouldn't have minded your elbows," Seokmin immediately protests. "You can poke and prod me all you want!"

"Kinky," Mingyu chirps.

"This is not about you, you big oaf!"

"Who are you calling—"

"Boys," you sigh, the warning heavily abused in your relationship. It's enough to get the two to pause, although Seokmin is still pouting and Mingyu has taken to biting his lip to hide his smirk.

"We could all sit on the same side," you offer, your mind already whirring to figure out how it might work from hereon. "But I'll always probably be in the middle, since it's best for you to sit on my right side, or else—"

"That's not a problem!"

Seokmin is already standing as he makes the proclamation. You're half-surprised he doesn't pull a stunt like crawling under the table to take his place, but his option of squeezing past Mingyu and you is just to be expected.

"Why are your legs so long?" Seokmin complains to Mingyu as he crosses over the latter.

"You weren't complaining about them last night," Mingyu huffs, earning another smack from you.

Seokmin is a lot more careful in maneuvering past you, even going so far as to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head as he settles on your other side. Once again, you find yourself sandwiched between your two lovers, the pair of them vying for your attention in their own little ways.

Mingyu keeps a protective hand over your knee while Seokmin happily picks up a fry to feed you. "Say 'aaah'!" he says happily, his tone just on the border of teasing, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare before complying.

By the end of lunch, you think you might be going just a little stir-crazy over this setup that the three of you have unlocked. But it's a small price to pay for the smile on Seokmin's face, put there by his newfound ability to lean into your side as you all enjoy your meal.

Mingyu has his moments, too.

It's usually a little more difficult to clock when Mingyu is the one being sulky, which only seems to contribute to his petulance. Exposure therapy has somewhat eased you into spotting your boyfriend's little ticks and tells, some of which are on full display at this very moment.

The two have come home with you for the weekend, pulling off all the usual stops to charm your household. Everything from their easy conversation to their cozy clothes are calculated efforts to present themselves as the ideal boyfriends, and you can only roll your eyes a bit as your parents fawn over you having not only one good partner, but two.

Your parents have half the mind to not declare favorites, if they had any, but your childhood dog didn't seem to get the memo.

Honestly, you can't blame Sparky. Seokmin just had a way with animals— with dogs, specifically— and so it comes to no surprise to you that the corgi is following Seokmin around everywhere. Your sweetheart of a boyfriend is just as indulgent, practically getting on all fours to interact with your pet.

It takes you a moment to notice that Mingyu has relegated himself to a corner of the couch, where he's quietly munching on a piece of fruitcake.

As Seokmin busies himself playing fetch with Sparky, you go to sit at Mingyu's side.

"Hey, handsome," you greet him. "How's the fruitcake?"

"It's good," he answers a little too quickly.

You give him a low hum in response. For a moment, neither of you say anything.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you offer once the silence has stretched out. Ever so gently, you rest your hand over Mingyu's thigh as he wordlessly works on his dessert.

There's a couple more moments of quiet before Mingyu mumbles, "He likes him more."

"Hm?"

"Sparky." Mingyu glances to some nondescript point in the living room, like he's almost embarrassed to be saying his next words out loud. "Your dog likes Seok more."

Oh.

What do you even say to that?

You try not to laugh, because you've since learned that your boyfriends can only get more upset when their perceived worries are downplayed. "It's only because Seokmin likes to play with him a lot," you try to explain to Mingyu, your thumb drawing reassuring circles over his leg.

The touch seems to soothe the man, if only slightly. "I also play with Sparky," he says absentmindedly. "But he doesn't follow me around."

"Still griping about me being the favorite?"

Seokmin's good-natured taunt interrupts your conversation. It doesn't help that Sparky is practically napping in Seokmin's arms, and the man is looking entirely too smug at getting to cradle your pet.

"Am not," Mingyu shoots back.

"Boohoo." Seokmin sticks out his tongue. "Go cry about it."

"Seok."

"Heh. Sorry, love."

Seokmin backs off at your warning; he's always been the sooner one to fold. With a chaste kiss to your cheek— and a pinch to Mingyu's side— he wanders off to set down Sparky in his bed.

Mingyu, for his part, keeps frowning.

You attempt to assuage his worries once more. "It's not a contest, you know," you say. "It's just Sparky."

"I know," Mingyu insists. With a shake of his head, he goes to intertwine his fingers with yours. "It's just— you love him. Sparky, I mean. And I guess—"

He pauses, hesitating, before going on in a more conspiratorial whisper. "I want everyone you love to like me, too."

The quiet admission nearly has you melting on the very spot. "Oh, Gyu," you say breathlessly, giving his hand a squeeze. "They all do, baby. You don't have to worry about that."

The fact that your tone brokers no arguments brings some comfort to Mingyu. You can tell by the way the tension seems to seep from his body, the way he tentatively raises your clasped hands until he can press a kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"I'll take your word for it," he mumbles against your skin, the hint of a smile already beginning to replace his pout.

Surprisingly, evenings are the easiest.

You once thought that the sleeping arrangement would be the hardest, would be the crux of most arguments. But when Seokmin isn't around, then at least Mingyu is, or vice versa. And when the three of you are all together, there's an almost natural order to things.

Mingyu will curl himself around you like a parenthesis, one arm thrown around your waist. Seokmin tends to prefer burying his face in the crook of your neck as he sleeps, his own arm snared around Mingyu's.

It's the very position that they never hesitate to pull out when you're the one who's grumbling and upset. It doesn't matter if only Mingyu is to blame or if Seokmin is at fault. The two team up as necessary, crowding you on the bed and squishing you between them.

"You're too beautiful to be frowning, love," Seokmin will coo, his lips pressed to the column of your throat. You may not see it, but you can feel the way he's smiling into your skin. "No need to get all huffy."

Mingyu doubles down by tightening his grip around your waist, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. "Come on, baby," he says smoothly. "Show us that smile we adore so much, hm? Pretty please?"

Dealing with two pouty boyfriends was hard, sure.

Resisting those boyfriends? Even harder.

"There it is," Seokmin hums when he sees the slightest twitch of your lips.

"God," you groan, swatting at the two boys. Mingyu giggles; Seokmin feigns offense. "I hate you two."

"I don't think you do," Mingyu says, leaning down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Seokmin pecks the other corner. "I think you love us," he proclaims.

And, well, they're not wrong.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ leftovers!

different pet names is a necessity. seokgyu would not play around with having nicknames that are theirs and theirs alone. you're free to call them both 'babe'/'handsome', but 'baby' is mingyu's and 'love' is seokmin's. any instances of you messing it up will result in a pouty boyfriend in need of reassurance.

other things mingyu has pouted about: that time you invited only seokmin to a musical, your matching shoes with seokmin ("why couldn't all three of us get the shoes?!"), when you turned down dinner with him because you ate a late lunch with seokmin.

other things seokmin has pouted about: when you called mingyu instead of him to repair the leaking faucet in your apt., your shrimp-peeling for mingyu ("this is worse than the perilla leaf debate"), the time you played soccer with mingyu but refused to try baseball.

after the matching shoes incident™️, couple items were put off the table. honestly, the lack of matching, poly-friendly items has you contemplating starting a product line of your own. the three of you have compensated by either wearing complementary colors or getting the same shoes/clothes/accessories in your respective sizes, although you're a little less inclined to the latter.

the soccer incident™️ has pushed the three of you to engage in hobbies that the three of you can mutually enjoy; usually, it helps when it's something that neither of the two boys have done prior. each quarter, the three of you find yourselves in odd little classes in the name of bonding. pottery, archery, you name it.

you and mingyu are united in your love-hate relationship for seokmin's morning singing. one too many mornings, you're woken to seokmin already being up— belting in the bathroom or performing a one-man show in the kitchen. it's on those mornings that you and mingyu snuggle a little closer to each other under the covers, grumbling about your beloved boyfriend's lack of tact.

it doesn't matter how much bigger mingyu is than the two of you; you and seokmin will be handling all the bugs of the household. when you trap a spider underneath a cup to free it to the world, mingyu is nowhere to be found. (he's several feet away, pressed in a corner of the room.) you and seokmin always share a little giggle at the indomitable kim mingyu squealing over a cockroach or a mosquito, but it is what it is.

seokmin likes being little spoon and mingyu likes being big spoon.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this one was kind of short, but heres part two! smut and rosie lore to come soon!

series masterlist here

part two: you ought’a wear sunscreen, lovie

Simon lay in the large cold bed of the guest room he had been provided about a week after his arrival to the cabin, wide awake. The sun was just starting to come up and he hadn’t yet slept, hadn’t even tried. How could he when you were in the room next to him snuggled up into your mound of blankets on the bed? He cursed John out when he had called him after his arrival. How had he left you out of the details when he’d coaxed him into coming to the cabin? ‘Forgoht ‘bout her, pretty little one, ain’t she?’ He had chuckled into the other end of the phone. ‘S’only for a couple o’months, LT, s’long as you’re nice to ‘er she’ll keep your belly full and your clothes clean.’ He hung up after that, and hadn’t picked up any of Simon’s calls or answered a message since.  

Forgot about her, Simon scoffed just thinking about it. He didn’t believe it for a second. How could Price possibly forget about the shy, beautifully curvy, unmated, impossibly adorable Omega he paid to be a live-in housekeeper for the cabin he conveniently sent his unmated, typically uncontrollable problem Alpha to vacation in? He smelled matchmaking all over it and he hated it. 

‘But it’s working.’ Simon grunted, rolling onto his side in hopes that his inner monologue would get the memo to shut up. ‘It’s working and you know it’ And goddess, he did. It was working. She was beautiful, and so deliciously plump and he wanted to kick himself for being an ass when he first spoke to her. He wanted to kick himself for wanting nothing more than to mark her, rub his scent all over her, keep her barefoot and fat and round with his pups. He wanted to kick himself for the way he felt his cock grow hard at just the thought of putting his pups in her. He was better than that, wasn’t he? 

He wanted to kick himself for the way that he already felt protective over her, as if he had already mated and impregnated her. As if they were already married. He felt himself wanting to be no more than an arms length away from her and he barely spoke to her. She dropped a knife while she was loading the dishwasher after supper the night before and he could have cried when he heard her mumble and ‘ow’ and bend down to rub her foot. ‘Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, should’ve been me’ He had heard his wolf chant over and over in his head and he had to really work to remember that he was an extremely disciplined man because without barely a thought he almost launched himself over the kitchen island to make sure you were okay. His fist clenched at just the memory of it. 

He could’ve cried when he heard your soft moan filter through the thin walls of the cabin, you were waking up and he would be subject to another day of breathing in your scent, of wanting to protect and hold you and not being able to.. ‘And why aren’t we able to? What’s stopping you?!” That voice again. That stupid stupid wolf trying to take over his rational sided mind. 

What was stopping him?

Nothing physically, he presumed. Aside from himself…it was always himself. The memories of watching his Alpha father and how he treated his Omega mother..of not feeling like a good enough Alpha himself because he couldn’t always protect her. Couldn’t always stop him..how could he possibly be good enough to protect this sweet little thing that was being dangled in front of him? You didn’t deserve inadequacy. He doesn’t deserve you. You want to bury your ugly mug between her legs..she made you a fucking pot roast and homemade desserts and you don’t deserve her? He’d never wanted to shut the wolf up more. 

You moved as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb Simon in the room next door as you shuffled through the room, gathering fresh panties and a pretty little sundress for the day before making your way to the bathroom across the hall. The shower head spits out hot water almost immediately and you sigh, dropping your overly large sleep shirt to the floor as you step in, moaning as the steamy water rolls over your tense shoulders. You hadn’t been sleeping very well, images of your Papa floating behind your eyelids every time you closed them, causing you to toss and turn or wake up in a fright if you had managed to even fall asleep. 

You hum as you wet your head, massaging shampoo into it as you try to scrub the images and dreams from your mind, leaving you in a better mood by the time you’re done. 

By the time you step out it had been nearly an hour since you’d stepped in, your skin exfoliated and smooth, shining even. Your hair washed and conditioned, soft and silky and wrapped in a towel above your head where it would stay until you were ready to blow dry it in your bedroom, sat in front of your vanity. You take the time to lather your body in lotion, a cozy smelling one that moisturized your already smooth and shining skin before you slipped into your panties and tightened the little corset on the back of your sundress. 

It was a white number, with little roses on it that fell to just above your ankles and showed off plenty of cleavage. The skin of your chest was already red from the sun the other day when you were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables while Simon lounged in the living room (though unbeknownst to you he had spent the whole time watching your every move out of the window next to the plush armchair he had taken post in, waiting for something to happen so he could jump to your rescue), you had forgotten your sunblock again and the hat you wore atop your head did nothing to help protect your delicate skin from the blistering rays of the summer sun. 

A part of you wondered what Simon would think of the dress, and as you thought it your cheeks flushed, making you hurry across the hall back to your room to finish getting ready before he caught you, you could hear him rumbling around the other guest room, you were sure he’d be wanting the bathroom any moment now. 

Another hour passes before you decide that you’re ready to leave the sanctuary of your room, hair braided and tied with a cream colored ribbon, glasses on your face instead of your normal contacts (your eyes were bugging you, your head pounding - which in hindsight probably was a warning that your heat was coming) and a bit of makeup splattered across your face, presentable to the public..to Simon..

He’s already in the kitchen when you hit the stairs, you can smell the coffee starting to brew and hear the clumsy sound of him tinkering around in there, muttering to himself, though what he’s muttering about you’re unsure, not able to make out the words exactly. “Simon?” You question, stepping down off of the final stair, headed for the coat rack to grab your purse and your big sunhat. 

“Ye-” He choked on his own words and you turned to see if maybe he had burned himself with the coffee, not expecting to find him staring at you, wide eyed under his mask. You cock your head to the side, concerned, purse dangling from your hands as you make to step towards him. “You..uh..” He he clears his throat, closes his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “You look..pretty..” He says, and almost as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel your cheeks begin to heat, averting your eyes as you fidget with your skirt. “Did you need somethin’, Lovie?” 

It’s your turn to stutter and choke now, and you do, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times before you remember what you had begun to say in the first place. “I was just going to see if you wanted to go into town with me?” He thinks we’re pretty! He thinks we’re pretty! Your wolf howls in your already aching head, causing you to wince just the littlest of bits. “I need to grab a few things from the market..thought maybe you might want to get out..” When he doesn’t respond right away you panic, and word vomit starts to come out, not even realizing you’ve cut him off from speaking. “I mean of course, only if you want to..it’s stupid of me to assume that you even want to leave, i guess you’re technically on vacation right? How silly to think that you’d want to leave the house..anyway i’ll just be gone a few hours..” 

He’s got his back turned to you by the time you’re finished, fishing for something in a drawer. You dumb ditzy bitch! You’ve ruined it! Ruined! “You outght’a put on some sunscreen, lovie..” He says, turning around with a tube of it in his large hand. Oh! He’s so thoughtful! He’s so sweet! Providing for us like a good alpha! Can we thank him? Can we kiss him? Please, please, please!!! “S’long walk into town, s’awful sunny out..” Before you know it, his large palm is smathering a layer of the thick lotion onto your bare skin, grazing the top of your breasts. Your face is on fire, heat rushing to it, though you can’t look away from him, his brown eyes on yours as he works it in. “There ye’go, can’t have this delicate skin puckering up out there, can we?” His touch is lingering, caressing even, and you open your mouth to say something but before anything can even come out he’s opened the door, sun shining down as he ushers you out, hand going to your lower back as he steps out after you. 

The walk into town was a long one, and while you typically didn’t mind it, it felt even longer with the presence of him by your side. A tall, silent shadow right next to you, and if you stood on the right side of him he did more sun blocking than your hat ever did. You talked enough for the both of you though, and though you were sure you were annoying him with your endless babbling about the things you needed to buy and why, he was kind enough to grunt and throw in the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘wow’ in where it seemed needed. You didn’t mind, though you were finally slowing down on the word vomit once you neared town, you found yourself instinctually moving closer to his side, wanting nothing more than to just cling on for dear life as townfolk began watching the two of you. 

You were familiar with most of them, you were an usual face having made many trips into the village since you’d been here, but something about the way some of the men stared at you was making your skin crawl. Was it because you were with Simon? Were they jealous? Or were they just being cautious because this was an Alpha they hadn’t seen before? They were used to you coming into town every now and then with John, but mostly by yourself, it was rare to see you with someone else, let alone another man. Your head pounded, and sweat began dripping down your face under the brim of your sunhat. 

Your belly cramped, a low grunt coming from your chest as it did and suddenly, you have a revelation. 

Heat, heat, heat, heat. You pouted, your wolf louder in your mind. No wonder she was reacting this way to him, you thought. It was just because you were due for your heat. You felt silly for not having tracked your cycle or paid attention to the dates well enough to realize it was time. Pups! Oh he could fill us with his litter! I bet his cock is nice and fat, get us nice and full! Your cheeks flushed as you tried to decipher the difference between your thoughts and hers, unsure of who thought what at that moment. 

“Okay there?” He asks, bumping your shoulder with his elbow. 

You look up and he’s already staring at you, eyes drawn tight under that damn mask. How was he not hot? “Just fine.” You smile, looking at him. “I have a few things to grab at the market..it’s just the next street over, can we go there first?”

He follows you silently, if he’s not right next to you, he’s trailing behind and in all honesty his strong, silent presence makes you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You know you don’t have to watch your surroundings constantly while you’re out, he’s an Alpha, his natural instinct is to protect and he seems to do it just oh so naturally, holding his arm out to stop you when you’re about to cross a busy street, holding your hand gently once he deems it safe enough, ushering you to the part of the sidewalk farthest from the bustling street, his body shielding you if something were to happen..

He opened the doors of the market for you, got you a little buggy and though you insisted on pushing it, he refused, keeping your cute little purse safe in the childs seat once you had set it down. Simon followed along the aisles, watching you pout down at your little list and then stare up at the shelves, your frown deepening when they didn’t have a certain item and you had to settle for an alternative. You didn’t see his fists clenching around the mental handle of the buggy as he watched you, didn’t hear the internal battle he was having with his wolf about leveling the entire store because you were unhappy at their lack of a certain product. 

It was when you were waiting in line for the butcher that he finally spoke again. You just wanted some chicken cutlets, and a couple of good steaks but your body seemingly had other ideas. Your heat was coming strong and fast, evident in the way that you whimper and nearly double over out of nowhere, grabbing Simon’s hand as you grab your lower belly, lips puckered and eyebrow furrowed. 

“Al’righ, Rosie?” He asks softly, worried, looking down at you, his big hand is on the middle of your back, the other on your shoulder as he crouches down slightly, as if to bring himself closer to your level. He’d smelled you since about the time you had first whimpered walking through town, your scent making his mouth water more than it normally did, his wolf trying harder and harder to take control of him, now that you were clearly in pain though, his wolf was whining, crying for him to do something and he couldn’t just ignore it. You nod meekly, trying to suppress a sniffle, to discreetly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “No, you’re not.” His voice is gruff, and he cringes as it reaches his own ears. “Wots wrong, lovie?” He asks, gentler this time, quieter. 

You look up at him, lips quivering and eyes watery and his body just wants to sag. Fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it, she’s sad, she’s sad i dont like it! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting her be sad? Why is she in pain? If he could tell himself to shut up and it actually work, he would have, but dammit the beast was right. Why wasn’t he fixing it? 

“Heat..” 

It was whispered, but it was all he needed. “Okay, lovie, lets get the rest of the groceries and get you home.” Home. Not just his boss’s cabin. Home. A meek nod in response. He tucks you into his side, dropping his big beefy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side tightly as he gives a long hard glare to the staring Beta’s and Alpha’s lingering around, even the one behind the meat counter. Your face is buried in his rib cage, just under his armpit as you breathe in his scent to calm yourself down, but also to protect yourself from the stares of the other people. Other unmated omegas, even some of the mated ones staring you down as you burrowed into the side of the giant man, your scent marking the whole store. Why wouldn’t they stare? You were the stupid one who couldn’t keep track of your own cycles. 

Simon does the rest of the shopping for you, slapping your list down onto the meat counter as he glares at the butcher, tells the man to make it snappy. “Need t’get this one ‘ome.” He says, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body, his voice just as tight as his grip as he talks to the grocers. You’re still clinging to his side, now shaking as the pain is coming quicker and quicker, when he makes it to the check out. He’s polite as he can be when you squeeze his hand, pouting at his gruff words and demands to hurry as he unloads the buggy, hands the cashier a wad of cash from his wallet while the bag boy works as fast as he can. 

You can barely fathom the walk back home, can barely stand on your own two feet as the light of day shines down on you when Simon helps you step out onto the street some more. He’s kind enough to think ahead, hails a taxi that the town is just barely big enough to justify having and ushers you in, giving gruff instructions to the driver as he plops down into the seat next to you, grocery bags at your feet as you curl into his side. 

“S’alright, Lovie,” He murmurs into our hair, hand rubbing up and down your bicep soothingly as you whimper again. “Get you home and into a hot bath in no time, okay? Get your nest all built up for you..”

This was going to be a long, long week. 

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