#you’re a goddamn idiot if you don’t run this through a search engine

[governmentintelligence]

this meme is fuckin wrong and none of you fact checked it yourself. shout out homies in the replies who know how to use a search engine.

[jimlingss]

hi Kina! may I make a request for a sort of sci-fi au? yn dies but when she opens her eyes, some unfamiliar yet familiar dude takes off his vr goggles and goes “hEy hOw wAs iT?” maybe Joon? or JK? I don’t really mind

↳ Awaken Again

2k || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Kim Namjoon

You die with some regrets.

But mostly without. It was a rather unremarkable, mundane life but a happy one where you feel general satisfaction for the choices and decisions you made. Above all, you feel tired. Oh so tired. You’re ready to sleep for a long while. Perhaps forever.

So you surrender to the darkness. Not sure what’s next.

……………………

Suddenly, there’s a burst of light.

It floods your vision, stirring your senses, and a comfortable weight around your head that you didn’t know was there is lifted. A gasp is stolen from your lips, filling your lungs and you realize you’re alive again. It’s hard to see, for your vision to adjust as your lashes flutter, and you squint.

But it eventually does adjust and you see again. Namely, you discover a certain man with sparkling irises and a dimpled smile in front of you.

“Hey.” His voice is deep, soft. It ignites an emotion stowed deep in your heart. “How was it?”

Your mouth draws open and your feeble voice croaks out, “Namjoon?” 

His smile fades as he searches your expression and you fall out of the chair, frantically grabbing onto the sleeves of his white lab coat. You pull him into a hug and cry out, “Oh my god, Namjoon!” 

He’s stiff against your body, not returning your embrace, but you don’t pay any mind. You’re too overwhelmed from seeing him again. “Is-Is this heaven?” you ask while shutting your eyes and savouring the moment. 

“What? No.” He looks over his shoulder and you don’t know where to.

You pull away but keep him in your reach, your hands curled into his clothes. “But if this isn’t heaven, then how is this possible?”

Namjoon’s hands wrap around your shoulders and he takes a step back, lowering his height slightly to have his eyes connect to yours. “Y/N, do you know where you are?”

“What?”

“You’ve woken up to reality,” he enunciates gingerly and carefully. “You were just in a VR simulation for the past few years. We’ve been watching you.”

You don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense. 

He’s scaring you. “What are you talking about? What’s going on, Joon?”

Namjoon leans back and looks towards the glass window. “Subject two has no recollection of past memories and no grasp of reality,” he deadpans in a monotone. “Will need monitoring for further investigation of potential symptoms and ramifications of simulation 230616.”

He turns back to you, a large distance kept between your bodies. As if you were strangers to each other. He merely says, “Everything will be okay.”

It does little to reassure you. And the Namjoon that you’re familiar with is nothing but reassuring.

Instead of dying, instead of surrendering to the darkness, you’ve been placed in a room with stark white floors, walls, a bed and a tinted window. Fluorescent lights burn your lids and you feel frightened, but it’s coming back to you. Slowly.

You cradle yourself, murmuring, “I am Y/N L/N.” 

They said you were placed in a simulation. “I am twenty eight.” The ninety years you lived wasn’t real. 

“I am a software engineer and scientist at Realtion.” 

You recall some parts as if they were distant memories of your childhood. Blurred. Faint. But even then, they’re merely fragments of a whole mirror, puzzles of a much larger piece. You remember being excited after you were picked to be one of the first to test the simulation. You remember getting into the chair, remembering placing the headset over your head and covering your eyes. You remember the countdown of a smooth, dulcet voice — the same one that had greeted you when it was all over.

The door opens and you jolt.

The person that enters is the same one you’ve been thinking about. 

Namjoon ducks his head to get in. “I don’t know why they make these goddamn doors so small.”

You smile unintentionally. But it’s easy to relax when it’s him.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” he says.

“Interrupting what? I’m being monitored like a lab rat. There’s nothing for you to interrupt.” To prove your point, you open your arms to your surroundings. It’s pretty obvious what they think about you considering the walls and floor are plush. This isn’t any different from a padded cell save for the few furniture pieces.

Namjoon shuts the door and gives you an incredulous expression. “Don’t be like that. They’re just worried.”

“Of my psychological state? Yeah.” You lean against the wall, seated on your bed. “Might be normal though considering I thought that simulation was my reality and I barely remember anything of my actual reality.”

He snorts. “The simulation has a few kinks, but we can iron it out. It might be a bit too immersive.”

You deadpan, “You think?”

Namjoon grins and takes a seat on the uncomfortable white chair by the desk. “It’s good to see you returning to yourself. Everyone’s missed you, Y/N.”

You hum a low note, looking away. 

It’s hard to cope and you’re still traumatizing on multiple levels, but that doesn’t mean your entire personality will suddenly up and vanish. If anything, you know you’re being rather snippy towards everyone — that you’re taking out your anger on them even though it’s unwarranted. It’s not like they were the ones who forced you to step into the simulation. It’s not like they knew this would happen.

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.

Everything you lived for, everything you loved, your entire life — it’s been a lie. A virtual reality.

“Why are you here?” you ask after the silence is prolonged.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

You pause. “How many.”

“How many…?”

You look back at him, gaze meeting his. “How many people were watching?”

Namjoon hesitates, but he answers you. “Just three. Me, Jimin and Hoseok.”

A scoff emits from your throat and you roll your eyes. You can’t believe all of the private moments in your life were being observed and recorded by others the entire time. You really were a lab rat and you still are.

“It’s confidential, Y/N,” Namjoon says. “You know that. Nothing unnecessary will be written in the final report.”

“It’s still intrusive,” you spit and soften, knees pressed against your chest as if physically curling into yourself is all the protection you have left. “It’s just….it’s just hard to cope with.”

“I know,” he murmurs gently.

“I don’t think you do,” you bite back. “I lived this entire life, this full life and to know everything was just a figment of my imagination, that nothing was real, that we—” You interrupt yourself. “Never mind.”

You know if you get too upset and your blood pressure spikes, a whole team might run in. Or maybe they already know Namjoon’s in here with you.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he pipes up, reassuring but in the moment you want it least. “The world you were in, it was constructed by your subconscious. You couldn’t control it. And relationships are built on the people who are close to you.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You hope he doesn’t say it, but he does—

“So it’s only natural that we ended up married and with kids and all that.”

You scoff. 

There’s an array of emotions that overwhelm you. Hurt that Namjoon could brush off sixty years of your marriage like that and what was so entirely real to you. Mortified that others saw how your subconscious built an intimate relationship with a colleague of yours. Confused at what you feel, how you yearn for the man across the room who you once called your dear husband— but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

So these feelings aren’t real.

Right? 

“If it’s only natural, then how come we’re not together in this ‘reality’.” It’s a bold question, but there’s no point in reserving yourself. You’ve already lived ninety years, so you know what kind of regrets are born in the face of hesitation and miscommunication. Confrontation is easy after so much experience. “You saw everything, didn’t you? You watched it all?”

Namjoon is quiet. “I did.”

“Then what do you think?”

You want to ask him how he felt about it. If he viewed that life with cold eyes and an impassive mind or if he possibly felt something, even as a bystander. 

“Was our relationship really just a wild part of my subconscious, Namjoon?”

The hurt you feel burrows deeper when he turns away from you in an extended silence. Your lips part, about to tell him to go away, so you don’t confuse the simulation with reality. But he beats you to the punch—

“It was my fault,” Namjoon murmurs and your head whips up to him. Your gazes connect. “That night before you were going into the simulation, I said something I shouldn’t have.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I….I knew you were going into the simulation for two years, so I thought I’d take my chance and if the outcome was bad, I would’ve been gone by then. I was an idiot. I didn’t know this would happen, that it would affect your subconscious so much.”

You slide off your bed, brows furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

Silence.

You come closer to him, raising your voice— “What did you tell me, Namjoon?!”

“I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you!” Namjoon’s eyes are darkened with regret, burning with embarrassment and shame. “We went out for drinks and I drank too much and I told you that if you wanted me to, I would wait for you. Until this was done.” He pulls a hand through the blonde strands of his hair, and he gets up from his spot. “There’s no point. You don’t remember it.”

But you grab him before he leaves, clutching the sleeve of his white lab coat. “What did I say?”

Desperation aches deep within you. A curiosity that eats at your brain.

Namjoon looks back at you and relays the memories you don’t have. “You said I shouldn’t wait for you, but if things don’t change and the timing is right, you’ll give your answer when you get back.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Namjoon searches your expression. It’s an intimate moment without interruption where you don’t care who might be watching or if there’s someone on the other side of the window. It feels like there’s just you and Namjoon. All that really matters.

Yet he forces you to let go of him. “I don’t want you to get confused with the simulation and reality.”

“Does it matter if it was real or not? What I feel is real. What I feel for you is real,” you spit as your annoyance surges. “Everyone keeps telling me what’s real or fake but no one wants to acknowledge that my experiences were real to me! Isn’t that the point of the simulation?!”

Namjoon’s eyes have widened. Your breathing is ragged, chest falling and rising. “I spent sixty years with you, Namjoon! We grew old together. And do you know what my first thought was when I saw you again?” You laugh bitterly. “‘Thank god he’s here, I can be with him again’.”

There are tears in your eye, welling up and blurring your vision. 

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word. He doesn’t make any excuses, any rebuttals, and doesn’t argue. He stops invalidating what you feel and instead closes the distance and embraces you.

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you lean into him, savouring it and shutting your eyes.

You know Namjoon’s worries have merit to it, that the others will think the same as he does. They’ll think you’re confusing the simulation with reality, that your ability to differentiate has weakened, that your feelings were manifested and nurtured by the simulation. They’ll think this isn’t real. 

But time will tell.

You’ve already stood the test of time with Namjoon once. You have a feeling, a second time won’t be difficult.

[sonicgetsrawed]

It’s 3 am and I Can’t Stop Thinking of You

Modern Au in which Ruddiger is a trickster and Varian may or may not gain a boyfriend because of it. Enjoy!

It was three am and he’d yet to get one fucking minute of sleep. Of course it happened on the day he decided to go to bed early instead of staying up all night to work on various projects. Not that he could really blame Ruddiger, it wasn’t his fault he was sick, he had to be for him to not stop crying. It started softly at first, but the raccoons' little whimpers and chitters soon filled the entirety of the apartment. It pained him to hear him like that and nothing he did seemed to help. He checked to see if he wanted to go for a walk, checked to make sure his litter box was clean, he checked him over to make sure he hadn’t acquired any injuries. There was nothing that he could find wrong with him, and yet he wouldn’t stop crying. The internet provided him with no answers, only increasing his worry that the only cause had to be that Ruddiger was on the brink of death. Varian spent about half an hour in which he was the one crying, holding Ruddiger tight and sobbing into his fur, during which he failed to notice the animal had stopped his crying. By the time he pulled himself together and conducted another internet search all the veterinary clinics were closed. It was in a moment of desperation that he messaged the school wide chat, in hopes someone might be able to help.

V: My raccoon won’t stop crying, all clinics are closed. Someone help! I’m getting desperate here!

He didn’t really expect a response, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted one, but he was on the verge of a panic attack and he just needed someone to tell him he was overreacting. Then of course, tonight of all nights the chat was dead. He was about to give up hope, allow himself to wallow in his worry, then his phone lit up, signaling that someone had messaged the chat.

H: Hey, I’m a vet tech, maybe I can help?

Varian startled a bit at the response. He hadn’t expected to get any actual help, just a wave of reassurances to ease his mind until he could take Ruddiger first thing in the morning, or later in the morning was more accurate.

V: Ok.

Varian cringed at his response. Okay? What was he supposed to do with that? They probably thought he was crazy now. He was genuinely surprised when they responded again.

H: Meet in twenty? On the corner outside the campus library?

Varian looked at his screen, a bit unsure on how to respond. Was he really about to meet a stranger at three am? Ruddiger’s cry confirmed it, he couldn’t let him suffer through the night when there was an option to ease his pain.

V: See you then!!

He grimaced, goddamn he was so awkward. Now he just seemed overeager. He didn’t have time to dwell on his social awkwardness, instead quickly throwing on some shoes and a hoodie, before getting Ruddiger in his carrier and heading out the door. His nerves were a mess, but hopefully it’d be worth it and this person could help. It didn’t take him long to get to campus, it was just a short walk from his apartment. He did regret not changing into something warmer, it was winter and the cool air did nothing for his light clothing. He should’ve waited, it took him a whole ten minutes to get to the meeting location, he’d have to wait another ten minutes in the cold. Ruddiger was wrapped tightly in a blanket, letting out a whimper every so often. “It’s okay, bud, we’ll get you all taken care of soon.”

It didn’t take long for someone to approach. He looked to be slightly older than him, his blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, his green eyes shining even in the dark. “My labs about a fifteen minute drive from here, I can run some tests there.”

He was walking away before Varian could respond, leaving the other to chase after him. “How- how did you I was the one you’re meeting with?”

He stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he looked around, before finally crossing his arms and looking at Varian. “I’m sorry, but do you see another idiot standing outside the library with a fucking raccoon? Cause I don’t.”

Varian wanted to say something in retaliation but he had a point. So he followed instead, letting the other take the lead again. “Right, sorry.” He should’ve known better, really. His eyes darted to the sidewalk, almost missing the way the other flinched at his apology.

“It’s fine. I’m Hugo, by the way. Thought you might want to know that much at least, before you get in my car.” Hugo said, stopping in front of a beat up car and fighting to get the door open. Varian stopped in his tracks, eyeing Hugo and the car wearily. He really shouldn’t be doing this, he didn’t know him, or where they’d be going. Once he got in the car it was essentially game over. He considered shooting his dad a text just so if he came up missing they’d have some lead, but he knew he’d just get berated for it. Hugo seemed to sense his hesitance. “Look, do you want help or not? I’m not going to murder you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He must’ve looked scared, Hugo’s eyes softening ever so slightly. Varian’s heart stopped in his chest, now that he could see him better, he was beautiful. His eyes sparkling in the light of the street lamp, he seemed sincere, and his uncle always said one could tell a lot from someone’s eyes. He nodded, pulling the passenger door open. “I appreciate your help. I’m Varian.”

Hugo simply nodded, getting in the car, and starting the engine. Varian slid into the passenger’s seat, buckling up and placing Ruddiger in his lap, thankful that Hugo wasted no time in turning on the heat. Hugo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, the silence deafening to the both of them. “So, what are his symptoms?”

Varian startled, his nerves once again taking hold. “Oh, um he seems fine, he just won’t stop crying. I’m scared something’s wrong.”

Hugo hummed, tapping his fingers once again, Ruddiger drowning the sound with a whimper. “We’ll definitely have to run some tests, probably blood work is best. I’ll give him a once over as well, listen to his heart and lungs and all that. If it’s something internal though you’ll definitely have to go to an actual vet later.”

Varian’s eyebrows knit together in concern, he was scared something serious was wrong with Ruddiger. He couldn’t lose his only friend, his best friend. He felt tears starting to prick his eyes, he couldn’t cry in a stranger’s car, he refused. His shoulders shook from the effort, but he didn’t care, this was already embarrassing enough. He completely missed the concerned look Hugo sent his way.

“Hey.” Varian’s head snapped up, smiling a bit at Hugo’s soft smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. Seems pretty tough to me.”

Varian smiled. “Thanks. For doing this, for helping me. You didn’t have to.”

Hugo shrugged, his smile becoming slightly more teasing. “What else was I going to do at three in the morning?”

“Sleep? That’s what I was trying to do.” Varian laughed, covering his mouth when it turned into a snort. “Sorry.”

Hugo laughed at that. “Don’t apologize. That was adorable.” Varian’s face flushed, turning his eyes away. Hugo cleared his throat. “I, uh, we’re here.”

Varian nodded, exiting the car and following the other inside. “So, uh, what made you want to be a vet tech?” He asked, trying to fill the silence that plagued them again.

Hugo stiffened, swiping his ID and holding the door for Varian to enter. “Not my choice. I personally would’ve loved to go into engineering. That’s what you study, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” He asked, tilting his head. He was pretty sure he didn’t know Hugo, so how did he know he was an engineering major?

“Remember that seminar last semester? The one on Demanitus?” Hugo clarified, as he went about preparing his station. Varian getting Ruddiger out and onto the table.

Varian definitely remembered the seminar. He’d been looking forward to it all year, then when the time came there was an annoying blonde that- oh. “That was you?”

Hugo shot him a wink, already beginning his examination on Ruddiger. Varian’s mouth hung open, he couldn’t believe it. He’d asked so many good questions, and sure he’d been annoying about it, but he made some really solid points. “How are you not an engineering major?” Varian asked before he could stop the words.

“I told you it wasn’t my choice. Now, can you be quiet while I check his breathing and heart?” Varian shut his mouth, waiting patiently as Hugo went about his task. Eventually he removed the stethoscope, placing it around his neck, and began checking the rest of Ruddiger. “My, uh, guardian, I guess, refused to pay for my schooling unless it was veterinarian school. So, here we are.”

He looked sad, not that Varian could blame him. It was terrible to be forced to pursue something that one wasn’t passionate about. “I’m sorry.”

Hugo laughed, scratching Ruddiger underneath his chin. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just-“

Hugo held up a hand. “It’s fine, really.” He didn’t believe it, but he decided to drop the subject, raising an eyebrow when Ruddiger started to purr. “He’s fine, by the way. This little bastard just wanted attention and I’ll be damned if he didn’t know how to get it.”

Varian stares at him in awe, not believing a word he was saying. “Wait, you mean he was faking it?!”

Hugo hummed in confirmation, Ruddiger continuing to purr as he was scratched and pet. “Yup. Little bastard has you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

“He- I am not!” Varian protested, scooping Ruddiger up and placing him in his carrier, despite his cry of protest.

“Whatever you say. Should we get out of here then?” Hugo said more than asked, already holding the door open for Varian. He simply nodded following him out, his face burning in embarrassment. He should’ve guessed it really, Ruddiger always knew how to get what he wanted, he’d just never gone to such extremes before. He’d have to keep a better eye on him from now on. The ride back to the library was in a more comfortable silence than the ride over, the emotional rollercoaster of the night weighing Varian down. He almost didn’t catch Hugo’s words as they pulled next to the building. “It’s nice that you care so much about the little bastard. He’s lucky to have you.”

Varian stared at him for a moment, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. Not many people would meet a stranger at three in the morning to help out.” Hugo simply smiled, watching as Varian got out of the car. Varian hesitated for a moment, not feeling quite right leaving things like this. “Hey!” He called, regretting it the instant the word left his mouth and Hugo rolled down the window.

“You forget something?” He asked, leaning down so he could see him out of the window.

“Yeah, uh, thanks again. Maybe I can make it up to you? Coffee? Next Saturday?” Varian asked, his voice wavering slightly, half of him wanting him to say no and the other more prominent part wanting him to say yes.

Hugo smiled, shooting him another wink. “It’s a date.” Varian’s blush returned tenfold, forgetting completely that he didn’t have a time, meeting place, or Hugo’s phone number. By the time he realized the other was long gone. Not that it mattered, the next Saturday Varian was back in front of the library at three in the morning waiting for Hugo, a smile gracing his features as the other rounded the corner.

[fletchphoenix]

Sweet As Sugar, Right As Rain

Chapter 3 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU! Yay! Thanks so much for all the support I’ve been receiving on this fic, I’ve enjoyed writing it so so much! It’s just been amazing (considering this is my first time EVER writing a fic so aha, I really appreciate the support!) Enjoy! <3

Word Count : 3809

TW - Strong Language

---------------------------------------  

  Sunlight beamed through the windows, the rays penetrating the temporary shield of his curtains and straight into his eyes. Hugo let out a loud groan and raised his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding light, however his attempts were futile. He resorted to pulling the emerald sheets over his head with a groan. Birds outside had other plans however, singing and tweeting right outside his goddamn window to ensure he couldn’t go back to sleep. Hugo shoved the sheets back in frustration, kicking them off him and letting them fall into a bundle on the floor. “Note to self. Buy some shutters.” he muttered, propping himself up on his elbows and reaching out for his glasses on the bedside table. 

  As everything came into focus, he took a second to look into the mirror. “Holy fucking shit.” he complained. Blonde locks jutted out in every direction imaginable, sticking up unnaturally. “Okay then. Shower time.” he said to no one in particular, shuffling off his bed as it made a painfully loud creak once his weight left it. Squeaking and shuffling sounded from the cage across his room, catching his attention, and he glanced over. A smile quickly took over his face.

  “Olivia! Hey there girl.” he jogged over, sitting at his desk and opening the top drawer of his desk to take out a packet of sunflower seeds. He tipped a few out of the packet, examining them in his hand before placing them in the cage in front of her. She inhaled the seeds, chittering and scurrying around in the cage happily after her breakfast with an energy unlike any other he’d seen before.

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re excited. But I’ve gotta go get ready, sweetheart.” he muttered, moving to stand. He gave in to his urges at her pouty face (could mice even pout? He’d have to google it later) before reaching into her cage with his finger and running a finger over her smooth, golden fur. “Okay, NOW I’ve gotta go.” he told the mouse sternly, pushing the chair away from the desk and moving to his feet. Arms made their way above his head in a long stretch as he made his way through the tiny apartment to his bathroom. 

  He should be grateful, he thought, that Donella was kind enough to let him live alone, but god, this place was less than satisfactory. The window panes were cracked in their frames and never really shut properly - making winters like these with their incessant flurries of snow the worst in the world. Banging and screaming always sounded from above him, with his neighbours being possibly the most dysfunctional couple in the history of romance. The walls were paper thin too - he could hear whenever his frat-boy next door neighbour bought a girl round, dreading whenever he did, and he wasn’t even allowed to keep any real pets! It took MANY hours of seducing the landlord to be allowed to keep Olivia in the apartment with him. And don’t even get him started on the rip-off rent costs. Alas, it was home and he couldn’t bear to live with Donella again. She was a great woman, taking him in when he was young and supporting him, but she was terrible when it came to motherly duties and..it was pointless to expect that from her. 

  The bathroom wasn’t much to brag about, either. A lime mat covered most of the tiled floor with a heater barely peeking out under the mass of towels placed carelessly on top of it. Reaching out, he turned the handle and let the water run, so it could heat up gradually. He tapped his foot as we waited, checking his phone. 11:15am. Why did it feel like he was forgetting something? It was probably something Donella told him to do. She did that sometimes - springing plans onto him out of nowhere. As if he didn’t have a social life at all. So inconsiderate, he mumbled to himself. It didn’t matter anyway, the shower water already at the right temperature. He stripped out of his pyjamas and hopped in.

  After his shower, Hugo finished drying his hair, tied it up and quietly changed into a light yellow shirt, blue jeans and his signature green jacket. He loved that jacket dearly, it being one of the first gifts Donella ever got him that wasn’t second-hand. (“Your clothes look ratty,” she’d said, trying to suppress her soft smile with a hardened expression. “I got you new ones. Maybe now you’ll look even slightly presentable.”) At least she was trying, he’d told himself as he started to fix his hair in the mirror. 

  Once he was fully satisfied, he set his course for the kitchen. In the hall, he passed various framed posters on the walls along with newspapers and small sticky notes with his engineering questions noted down on them. (All green, of course, because what was he, a monster? He had an aesthetic to uphold and he was determined to do so, goddamnit!). Shelves also littered the wall - containing various books on topics like engineering, chemistry, biology and physics. Donella had given him them too, so he had something to read growing up and to entertain himself while she was away on her business trips with her friend, Ulla. Sure, she’d be gone weeks at a time, leaving Hugo with Cyrus to be taken care of, but at least he had someone there to take care of him.

  He trailed his hand to the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open and walking into the room. It was slightly bigger than the other rooms in the apartment - counters along the walls with a small table in the middle. A clock sat on the wall as well. 12:26pm. Why did it still feel like he was forgetting something? A string of curses left his mouth after he, in his distracted state, stubbed his toe on the chair, “Motherfucker! Ow!” he cried out and hopped awkwardly to the coffee machine which was, not surprisingly at all, fern green. 

  Hugo let the machine do its thing, taking the cup of absolute joy after it was done and adding some sugar. Black coffee was his saviour on a morning - especially after he’d had a party the night before. The bitter taste flooded his mouth and tickled his nose, him letting out a content sigh of happiness. This was it. The freedom he’d always wanted. He let the serenity of the moment relax the tension in his shoulders and allowed himself a moment where he could just be alone. 

  The moment was broken by a bleep on his phone.

  “For fuck’s sake..” Hugo muttered as he checked the time again. 12:47pm. Shit, had it really been that long? Oh well..not as if he had anything to do today. His eyes scanned over the text he had received. 

Cyrus : Hey bud. Have a good time on your date today. Remember - Donella needs you at the workshop by 17:00. Don’t be late.

  Shit.

  He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten he was meeting up with Varian? He was such an idiot! He’d scored a date with the most handsome boy on the planet and somehow he’d forgotten! In his panic, Hugo tipped the coffee down the sink and rushed to the door...stubbing his toe again and slipping over. “FUCKING CHAIR!” he yelled and scrambled to his feet, scurrying and sitting on a step to lace up his shoe. His wallet and keys sat on the table by the door, his hand hurriedly scooping them up, shoving them into his pocket and racing out the door.

  Lungs gasped for air and burned as he sprinted down the street, dodging people on his journey to the coffee shop. The sun shining in the sky was deceiving, the bitter winter air biting at the back of his neck. He should’ve bought a scarf. It was too goddamn cold out here - the December airs howling past his ears. He should’ve bought his headphones too. Oh god, he hoped Varian hadn’t bailed on him. 

  He fell through the doorway, gulping at the stares he received as he made his way through the people in the shop in search of one boy in particular with the beautiful blue streak in his raven hair. He stuttered apologies before his eyes found what he was looking for. Making his way over, he began to apologise. “Hey hairstripe, sorry I’m late. I was-”. His words died out as he made his way closer.

  There, in the same booth as before, sat perfection in its finest form. Varian. His azure eyes were focused outside, gazing and half lidded but looking at nothing in particular. His ebony hair blew slightly in the slight breeze created by the fan in the shop, with the blue streaks sticking out against it. Freckled skin had a slight shine to it from the sun’s rays that provided perfect lighting and bringing out his soft features. His cyan sweater complimented the rest of his outfit, the headphones hanging around his neck matching the colour of his sneakers. It was like a movie scene - absolutely perfect. His mouth felt dry as the boy turned his head and gave him an excited smile and Hugo could swear he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of it. 

  “Hugh! Hey!” Varian said, waving his hand and watching Hugo as he moved to sit in the booth opposite him. “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologise. I got here early anyway so I was just listening to some music.” he added onto the end, leaning against the table with a grin on his face. “Love the jacket by the way, really compliments the shirt.” 

  “I-thank you. I could say the same for you though. That sweater really brings out your eyes. And your hair.” he reached out his hand, running the strands between his fingers before pulling his hand away. He let out a chuckle at the sight of Varian’s flushed face, eyes fixated on the younger male as he tucked his hair behind his ear and fiddled with the hem of his shirt stuttering out explanations. “Hairstripe, calm down. It’s just a compliment. Anyway, what do you want? The drink is on me.” 

  “Oh, um -a vanilla latte again. Please.”

  “Don’t miss me too much.” he grinned with a smug expression, laughing when Varian pushed him playfully before walking off to order. He let out a content sigh and glanced back at Varian as he ordered their drinks. The boy in question was playing with his hair as he read a chemistry textbook that he must’ve placed on the table when he left. He looked so beautiful, just sitting there without a care in the world. Hugo could just watch him forever, a red tint starting to build on the tips of his ears and cheeks as he realised just how long he’d been staring. He tore his eyes away from the breathtaking boy near the window and brought his attention back to the barista.

  “Vanilla latte and black coffee for Hugo?” the chestnut haired girl questioned, placing the drinks on the side and allowing Hugo to pick them up. He nodded graciously, flashing her a smile before returning to his seat. Leaving a $5 tip in the jar on the way, he sauntered back to the table with the drinks in hand and a smile on his face. 

  “Lord Varian, your drink has been served by your humble servant. I am forever in your debt.” he laughed and sat down opposite the boy again as he pulled his drink close to his chest and took a sip. Hugo looked out of the window with a smile, eyeing the people walking past in the freezing weather, holding hands with their loved ones and cuddling them close to ward back the December breeze. He wished he could do that with a certain obsidian haired boy sitting across from him reading a chemistry textbook like the adorable nerd he was. “So. How’s your week been? I saw you were in the library yesterday. You did look great by the way.” He smirked and winked in his direction.

  “Oh! It's been fine, Hugh. I do tutoring with Nuru on Wednesdays. We look after the sweetest boy in the world called Yong. He’s seriously the smartest kid I’ve ever met, but he gets so nervous to show it, y’know? And Nuru...god, she’s an amazing girl! Intelligent, yes, but just so mature and caring towards everyone! She’s a sweetheart really. How about you? Why were you there yesterday?” Varian asked quizzically, giving Hugo a little head tilt that made his heart soar. Fuck, he loved this boy. 

  “Me? Oh well, I was just picking up some books and doing some studying. I have an essay due in a few weeks and I just needed to look up some things.” he lied through his teeth. It was TOTALLY not because he wanted to see the other teen again before their date. Nope. No way. Nuh-uh. 

  “If you want me to, I could help you with your-”

  “NO!” He yelled out, leaning forward against the table before flushing red and moving back into his seat, composing himself and tapping his leg rapidly to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, I uh-I think I’ll be fine on my own. Thanks for the offer though.” he chuckled awkwardly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry...I’m just really awkward.” he apologised, sliding back in his chair and covering his face with his hands. Great. Perfect. Absolutely swell. He’s just embarrassed himself in front of the boy of his dreams like an absolute idiot. If whatever god there was could just strike him dead right now, that would be fan-fucking-tastic-

  A giggle followed by laughter and snorts broke him out of his spiral of self hatred. Varian’s hands wrapped around his wrists and gently lowered them, the most loving smile Hugo had ever seen plastered on his face as he dealt with the aftershocks of his laughing fit. “It’s okay. It was cute.” the boy commented, Hugo’s face twisting into a smile as well before joining him in his fit of laughter. 

  They must’ve looked like a strange pair - two boys laughing so hard they were in tears at a coffee shop in the middle of December, but neither of them cared. They were happy and that was all that mattered. Both took a sip from their coffees as they kept their eyes locked on each other. “Yep.” Varian thought, “Coffee does taste better when I’m drinking it with Hugo.” he concluded. He shuffled over in his booth, allowing Hugo to slide in beside him and look at the textbook to help with his questions. 

  Hugo tried his hardest to ignore how close Varian was, but after a few hours it became harder and harder to focus, with their shoulders pressed against each other and leaning forward with their eyes fixated on the book. A deep red flush developed on his cheeks yet again. Any closer and they’d be…Hugo tried not to focus on that, his gaze directing to Varian’s hand. He slowly and shakily took the younger’s hand in his own.

  Hugo turned his head to look at Varian, the younger boy coincidentally doing the same thing at the same time. Their noses almost touched, but both of them were too lost in the moment to bother pointing out the awkwardness of the situation, with Hugo intertwining their fingers under the table. “Hugo?” the younger whispered. Hugo could feel the tantalizing breath on his lips, intermingling with his own. Just a little closer. He tilted his head, leaning in and..

 His phone rang.

  Hugo snapped back to reality and moved away from Varian, letting go of his hand, much to both boy’s disappointment, and picked up his phone to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hugo.” Donella’s rough voice replied, and boy howdy, did she sound pissed off. He was in trouble for sure this time. “It's 5pm. Where the hell are you.” she growled through the phone.

  “Shit, Donella I’m sorry. I forgot all about the time. I’ll start heading over now, I promise-”

  “Hurry up then.” she commented before hanging up, leaving no time for discussion. Hugo turned to see Varian - the hurt on his face wounding Hugo’s heart. A kicked puppy would probably look less hurt than the boy did in that moment. And he put that look on his face. He really was the worst wasn’t he? 

  “Hey-write down your address. I’ll pick you up at 5 next Thursday-” he began to say, Varian’s face twisting in confusion before grabbing a napkin and handing it to Hugo. “Alright, I’m sorry to cut this short.” he sighed and gathered his things together. Hugo turned to leave, before he felt a hand grab his wrist and a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” Varian looked at the floor, his face flushed red however a smile was still evident on it. Hugo’s mouth felt dry yet again as he froze for a second, a now all too familiar heat covering his face. He nodded in response and headed out the store, where he immediately leant against the wall and placed a hand on his cheek. 

  “Holy fucking shit..” he whispered to himself. “I’m in love with Varian Ruddiger.” He let himself get lost in the moment before another bleep reminded him of where he had to be. Shit. He started sprinting down the street, his path illuminated by streetlights as he passed them with a smile on his face. Well…

Next week was gonna be interesting.

  He opened the door to the workshop Donella ran, passing her henchmen as if they weren’t threatening at all. They fixed their glares onto him - okay yep, he was definitely in trouble for being late. He pushed open the doors, putting on his smug facade as he made his way to Donella’s desk. “Hey Donella, I’m here.” he declared, placing his hands on the desk and leaning against it. “You needed me?”

  “Yes, I did.” she frowned at him and gave him her infamous death stare. He cowered back slightly before regaining his composure again. “I trust this won’t happen again..?” she questioned, a slight smile tugging on her lips at the frantic nod he gave. “Good. Now get to work. We have an important client who requested specifically for you to make his product so..get to it.” 

  He hurriedly left her office, heading to his workspace and pulling on his goggles and gloves. Sheesh, that woman could seem evil sometimes - he bet in her past life, she was probably a supervillain. Maybe in an alternate universe, she was. He let out a breathy chuckle, glancing over the blueprints. Hm. Looked difficult, but he could do it. He set the paper aside and began to work, the incident from the coffee shop still playing on his mind. 

He couldn’t wait to see Varian again.

  Meanwhile, Varian packed his things again and began his walk home. Was Hugo about to...kiss him? Did he seriously feel the same as he did? It made him feel giddy just thinking about the way Hugo’s cold hands felt against his warm ones, the closeness that made his heart pound and ache for more contact, the way Hugo leaned in and tilted his head...wow. Hugo liked him. And he liked Hugo. 

  He pushed open his door and, once again, fed Ruddiger before heading up to his room. The cat purred gratefully and ate before following his master, lounging across his bed as if he owned the place. The audacity of the fat bastard! “Sometimes I wonder why I feed you.” Varian wondered aloud, grinning as the cat meowed back and swatted V’s hand as he tried to pet him. “Ow! Okay! Geez, I get it!” he laughed before reaching over and grabbing his phone to see some texts from Hugo.

Hugo : Sorry for leaving so early, short stuff

Hugo : My mom needed me for something and I completely forgot

Hugo : But hey, next week you’ll have me all to yourself ;)))

  Varian scoffed and looked at Ruddiger, who he swore had a disgusted expression as he read the phone screen. “I know Ruddiger. Absolutely disgraceful, isn’t it?” He chuckled, but..deep down he knew he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having Hugo all to himself...He shut that idea down fast, typing out a sarcastic response as he tried (and massively failed) to feign annoyance.

Varian : You wish I’d want that, you twerp

Hugo : Oh I don’t wish, I know ;)

Hugo : also, V? 

Varian : What is it now, Hugh?

Hugo : Thanks for the kiss. Didn’t get the chance to say that earlier but..thanks

Hugo : Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Mom wants me.

Hugo : See you next week, sweetie <3

Varian : No problem, Hugo. See you next week =)

  Varian set his phone aside and sat up. He completely forgot. He kissed Hugo’s cheek. Oh god, please don’t make it awkward, he internally begged. He didn’t want things to become weird between them. He really...really liked Hugo and just didn’t wanna mess this one up. He changed into his PJ’s and shuffled under the covers, reading through their conversations.

  “Goodnight Ruddiger..” he muttered as he turned off the lights and closed his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep. He sighed in frustration and brought out his phone, turning it on quietly and typing out 3 words. 

Varian : I Love You

  His lips twitched into a frown as he stared at those 3 words. They held so much weight - had the power to change the course of his and Hugo’s relationship as soon as he sent them. He thought back to their meeting. Was he just being friendly? Did he just get distracted? Did Hugo actually like him? A hand reached up to run through his hair. What if he was just misreading the signs? 

  What if Hugo found out? What if he found out about all the terrible things Hugo had done? The people he hurt? How badly he messed up? Varian bit his lip so harshly the metallic taste of blood flooded into his mouth. Hugo would never love someone like that. Someone who did everything that he did. Tears he didn’t even know had developed fell onto his phone screen, to his surprise. He quietly set it down and wiped his eyes. Not tonight, he thought.

  Varian held his finger down, erasing the text and setting his phone aside. He tucked his knees into his chest and looked at the wall. He had to tell him one day. Not now, but one day. He slowly started to drift to sleep, the thought of their date still fresh in his mind and the remnants of a smile on his face.

[littlemarvelfics]

Wet

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: about 2.2k

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. Leave now if you’re under 18. Also a little angst but mostly fluff

A/N: Welp. I know I said I wouldn’t write smut but fuck it. (No pun intended). This was a request from a lovely anon and I hope I did them justice! Y’all are always more than welcome to send in requests! I’m also hosting a writing challenge because there are 1.1k of you and that’s nuts. The link is in my bio if you want to join!

The request: One with Chris Evans where he and the reader had a little fight and then he comes to her to apologize and it end with a fluffy smut. That "I went here running under the rain" thing would be amazing! Thank you 💕

“Seriously, Chris?!” you yelled, slamming your hand on the kitchen counter.

“What do you want from me?” Chris responded, just as frustrated.

“Maybe just some of your time. I know you’re so goddamn busy but maybe just a night for your girlfriend once in a while?”

“C’mon,” Chris sighed, reaching for you. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” you said, pushing his hand away. “What isn’t fair is you never having time for me! I get it, Chris, I really do. I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating a Marvel guy. But God! You’re home for two weeks and you can’t save a Friday night for me?”

“Sweetheart…” he said, trailing off when he realized he didn’t have any defense.

“That’s what I thought. I’m going home, call me if you decide I’m worth it.”

“Wait, don’t leave. I’ll stay in tonight. We can do whatever you want.”

“What I want Chris,” you said, picking up your purse and heading for the front door. “What I want is to feel like you give a damn about me. About us.”

You walked out of Chris’s house and jogged to your car, slamming the door closed and resting your forehead against the steering wheel for a moment before you sat up and started the engine. You drove to your house only a few blocks away while the radio droned on as the background music to your thoughts. You and Chris had been together for nearly a year. You had met in Boston just before he was due to leave to work on End Game. Chris took you out a few nights before he left, and when he ended up in your bed that night, you had accepted that he was simply a one night stand. But when you woke up that morning, he was still there with his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly to him even as he slept. When he woke up that morning, he swore he didn’t mean to fall into your bed, and he wanted something more than one night.

A year later and you knew you loved him. You hadn’t said it to each other, but it wasn’t hard to fall for him. Chris was still struggling with parts of your relationship. When he was home in Boston, he had so many people to see and friends to catch up with. This wasn’t the first time he had made other plans without thinking about your relationship, and you were honestly tired of it. You pulled into your driveway and grabbed your bag, feeling your phone vibrate inside. You pulled it out and checked it, two missed calls and a few texts from Chris. You rolled your eyes, tossed it back in your bag, and headed inside, narrowly missing the rain that was starting to fall.

You dropped your purse and kicked off your shoes as you entered your home. You shrugged out of your jacket as you jogged upstairs towards your room, set on getting out of your jeans and into your pajamas. You pulled off your top and bra, throwing on one of Chris’s shirts that he had left in your room. Kicking off your jeans, you quickly replaced them with pajama shorts and went back downstairs, opening your freezer in search of ice cream. You found a pint waiting for you and grabbed it before settling into your couch. The lightning outside illuminated your living room as you settled in with trashy reality TV. Just as someone was about to throw a drink in someone else’s face, there was a pounding on your door. You groaned and got up, pausing your show as you went. You swung open your door to reveal a soaking wet Chris Evans.

“Did you swim here?” you asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Practically,” he said with a crooked smile. “Can I come in?”

You moved aside, silently inviting him inside.

“Real Housewives?” he questioned, referring to your paused TV.

You shrugged. “I love messy people.”

“Explains why you’re with me then, huh?”

“Why are you dripping in my kitchen, Evans?” you asked, avoiding his comment.

“When you left, I started thinking. And then I was thinking too much, so I started walking around, and somehow I ended up here,” he said. “Somewhere in there, it started raining.”

“What were you thinking?” you questioned, avoiding his gaze.

“I still think that I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I’m also thinking that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately. And I’m incredibly sorry about that.”

“Do you see where I’m coming from at all?”

“Yes. 100% yes. And you’re never gonna know how sorry I am that I made you feel like you weren’t important because you’re the most important person to me. It’s just…”

“It’s just what Chris?”

“In the past, girls have told me I’m too clingy. That when I’m home, I’m around too much and it drives them away. And it would kill me if I drove you away like that.”

“Those girls are idiots,” you said with a chuckle. “There’s no such thing as too much you.”

Chris smiled at you and sighed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “In fact, I demand it.”

Chris pulled you into him and kissed you gently before pulling away, resting his head against yours.

“You’re gonna catch death, Chris Evans,” you mumbled. “We gotta get you out of these wet clothes.”

“Looks like I got you a little wet too,” he replied with a smirk, his voice deepening.

“Guess you’ll have to get me out of my clothes too.”

Chris leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss again. His hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs slings under his tee shirt to rub across your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, moaning when you felt his covered erection press into you.

“Chris,” you whispered as you pulled away from him, resting your forehead against his.

“What do you want baby? Anything for you.”

“You. I want you,” you said, sincerity in your voice.

“You’ve got me, always.”

You smiled up at him and brought him down to kiss you once again, this time with more force behind it. Chris slid his hands from his hips and over your ass, squeezing gently. You gasped into the kiss and you could feel Chris smirk against you. His hands continued their journey until they were grabbing you thighs and lifting you up. You jumped slightly, helping him get you where he wanted. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and kissed along his jaw while he walked the two of you towards your bedroom. Chris’s moans urged you on as you kissed down the side of his face and neck, biting gently along the way. You pulled the collar of his shirt to the side so you could reach his collarbone, causing Chris to chuckle.

“Eager?” he teased.

You pulled your head away from his chest and leaned back slightly in his arms as he walked you into the bedroom.

“I can stop if you want Evans,” you said, slightly rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t say that!” he said quickly.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumbled as he set you down on your feet.

Chris reached down and pulled his soaking tee shirt over his head and dropped it on the ground with a smack as you ran your hands down the defined muscles of his arms and down his back, wanting to feel every inch of him.

“I think that’s my shirt you’re wearing,” Chris remarked.

“You gonna take it back?” you said with a smirk.

Chris’s face split into a grin, and he slowly undid the buttons of the shirt, pulling it open and marveling at your bare chest.

“You are… stunning,” he murmured.

“Chris, stop it,” you whined, your skin heating up under his gaze.

“Not a chance. I’m never going to miss the opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are,” he said, leaning in to kiss you once again.

You reached down and undid his belt, tugging at his jeans and underwear until they both fell to the ground, leaving Chris naked in front of you.

“You’re too dressed,” he mumbled.

“You’re impatient,” you countered.

“Duh,” he said simply, pushing his shirt off your shoulders and pushing your shorts and panties off quickly after. “I mean… can you blame me.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned up to kiss him once again, one hand going to the back of his neck, the other gently wrapped around his cock and pumping slowly. Chris pulled away with a groan and walked the two of you back to the bed, hovering over you and kissing your neck while his finger slid between your folds.

“Always so responsive,” he mumbled.

“Only for you,” you moaned as he dragged his finger across your clit.

Chris continued rubbing and touching you until you were squirming beneath him, grabbing his wrist to stop him. He pulled away from your neck with a furrowed brow.

“I want you,” you whined. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he said with a chuckle.

Chris reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it a few times before rubbing the head through your wetness.

“Chris, I swear to God,” you groaned.

Chris laughed once again as he took your right leg and wrapped it around his waist, sliding the head of his cock into you at the same time. He took his time, sliding into you slowly and gently, reveling in the feeling of your body taking him in. Once he was fully inside, he leaned down, bracing himself with his forearms on either side of your head.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yes, Chris… fuck, please move,” you groaned out.

“Happily.”

He pulled completely out before he eased his way back in, his pace slow but his thrusts firm. He balanced his weight on one arm while his other hand came to your chest, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he sucked on the other one.

“Chris,” you moaned, thrusting your chest further into his face. “Chris, fuck you feel so good.”

“That’s right baby. Lemme take care of you.”

You whined and nodded, gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Chris, baby, I’m gonna…”

“I know, I know sweetheart. Come undone for me.”

You came with a silent scream, your pussy squeezing around Chris’s cock. He thrusts never let up as we worked you through your orgasm. Chris started snapping his hips with more force.

“You got another one for me, baby?” he questioned, his thumb coming down to rub tight circles on your clit.

You nodded furiously, wrapping both your legs around him in an effort to bring him in deeper.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, so fucking good,” he groaned.

You could feel your second orgasm quickly approaching, still sensitive from your first. You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to concentrate on delaying it. You could feel the tears leak out the corner of your eyes.

“Nu-uh,” Chris tutted. “Look at me, baby. You wanna cum again for me?”

You nodded quickly.

“Words, baby. I need your words.”

“Yes, Chris, yes, fuck please,” you rambled.

“I’ve got you baby, cum for me. I’ve got you.”

Your second orgasm hit you like a train, Chris’s name leaving your lips in desperate cries. Chris seeing you cum again triggered his own orgasm, thrusting inside you roughly until he felt himself burst. Your legs fell from his waist, and Chris rested some of his weight on you while he caught his breath. When he felt like he could see straight again, he pulled back from you, your half closed eyes meeting his.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he said, kissing your nose.

You groaned as he pulled out, removing his softening cock, leaving you feeling empty. Chris got up and walked into your attached bathroom, quickly grabbing a washcloth and cleaning himself up and throwing on a pair of boxers he had left at your house the last time he stayed over. He took a fresh washcloth and brought it out into your bedroom where he found you spread out on your bed, your eyes closed and a look of contentment on your face. He approached quietly, taking the cloth and wiping up the mess between your legs. The second he made contact with you, you whined and attempted to close your legs.

“I’m just cleaning you up baby, then we can go to sleep,” Chris reassured.

You let your legs fall open silently, trusting Chris to clean you up properly. He finished up and chucked the cloth into your bathroom sink to be dealt with tomorrow. Chris walked over to your dresser and pulled out a pair of clean panties and delicately slid them up your legs. He gently pulled the sheet out from under you and replaced it on top of you, quickly settling himself next to you. As if you were drawn to him by an invisible force, you immediately laid yourself practically on top of him. Your head went to his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you while you swung your leg over his hip.

“Chris?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming over in the rain.”

“Anytime,” he replied.

“Chris?” you mumbled again.

“Yes?” he questioned.

“I think love you.”

“I love you too.”

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 2/?

Part Two: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: Unable to sleep, Miller and Y/N celebrate her birthday with some contraband moonshine, Clarke and Finn come back bearing bad news, and things come to a head between Y/N and Bellamy as they search for Jasper.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild angst, 

Notes: Thank you for all the love! Also, goddamn that gif is beautiful. Based on 1x02 “Earth Skills”

She didn’t sleep at all that night. Instead, Miller snuck her into Monty’s tent, the kid who left with Jasper, he explained. 

“This kid makes the best moonshine I’ve ever tasted.” He explained, scratching at the patchy facial hair that had started to grow in. 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the petty thief. Monty wasn’t even here, probably out trying to get his poor friend laid, but Miller still felt the need to sneak into his tent as if he would get punished for it.

“Isn’t this the Monty you had a crush on in fifth grade?” She asked, coughing down what Miller had now dubbed ‘birthday juice’. 

“Yeah, so?”

Y/N shrugged before taking another gulp, regretting it as the sun began to peek through the opening in the tent. “Ugh, we should get ready before Bellamy starts clanging the pots to get us to work.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of the older leader, annoyance erupting in her stomach as she recalled the events of last night. She pushed herself off the leafy ground, wiping the dirt off her hands as she stood.

“You know he’s not that bad once you get to know him” Miller offered, stuffing the canteen back under Monty’s bed while Y/N shrugged on her jacket. “I knew him a bit before I got arrested, he’s actually a pretty awesome guy.”

She smirked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, “This is why I love you, Miller.”

“Because I can get you free alcohol and sneak you into places you’re not supposed to?” His eyebrow twitched upward as he smiled. Y/N holstered her makeshift knife in the band of her jeans, patting Miller’s shoulder. “Because you see the best in people, even little shits like Bellamy.”

As the two exited the tent to catch the first earthen sunrise in over ninety-seven years, Miller would not stop trying to defend the older kid. “I just don’t know why you won’t give him a chance. I think you guys would actually have a lot in common if you just talked to him.”

Y/N spun around, trying not to offend one of her best friends, “Look, Nate, I love you but Bellamy insulted my own family and personal life last night, not to mention him and Murphy don’t even care about the progress of this camp. He and I will never get along, now drop it.”

Miller nodded, the two teens watching the black sky fade into soft colors beyond their imagination. Pink, orange, and yellow stretched across the sky until they all mixed together to create the crystalline blue they had dreamed so long about seeing. 

“Now that you’re eighteen, what are you gonna do?” Nate asked, spreading himself out on the grass to watch the sky morph. Y/N joined him, her ponytail pressing against her skull as she thought it over.

“I don’t know.” She confessed, weight lifting off her shoulders as she played with the silver band around her other wrist, “Sinclair had promised me an apprenticeship back on Mecha, guess that’s off the table.”

A chuckle lifted both of them from their tired night. 

Y/N smiled, contemplating the possibilities. “I guess...I’m a free woman. I can do anything. I can do anyone.” She chuckled at her wordplay, Miller suddenly growing silent. She recognized that behavior. He was trying to find the right words to say something.

“What is it?”

“Your dad” Miller asked gingerly. “Do you think he would’ve floated you?”

She inhaled sharply, her mind racing at a thousand miles a minute as she tried to come up with a probable answer. Her gut told her no. Even if they didn’t share blood, she had to believe a part of him hurt when she had been taken away. But then she remembered the cold gaze in his eyes when he had wrapped the handcuffs around her wrists and, like most situations, her head won out. 

“Probably.” She breathed, the words tasting sour in her mouth. “I was a liability, someone who knew the two biggest secrets aboard the Ark. What better way to shut me up then to float me like my mother?”

Silence filled the space between them.

She continued her argument, more to convince herself than the thief beside her.

“Logically it makes sense, and Kane has always been motivated by logic.”

Miller sat up, turning on his side to face her, a regretful look passing through his eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to bring it up. I guess, I just hoped--”

“I know what you meant Miller.” Y/N mirrored his position, placing a hand on his arm, letting him know his mistake was forgiven. “But that man is not my father. Of course, my real dad wasn’t much better.” 

The two friends shared another laugh until a scream ruined the moment between them. They launched to their feet, sprinting back to the clearing just in time to see Wells tackle Murphy to the ground. 

Emotions disappeared behind a steel wall as Y/N approached the two, ready to separate them again. 

“Hey! That’s enough,” She called, struggling against the raw strength of the boys. “HEY! I said that’s enough!”

She ripped the darker-skinned boy off the other delinquent, ready to defend Wells against another tirade of Murphy’s. “What happened?” Wells breathed heavily, a shaky finger pointing at the paler boy. “He was holding Roma over the fire, I tried to stop it and he attacked me.”

A sneer crossed Murphy’s face as he shuffled forward, launching toward Wells. Y/N reached underneath her shirt grasping the makeshift knife and brandishing it as Bellamy pushed Murphy back. 

“Murphy enough!” Bellamy stopped the delinquent, throwing a look of contempt her way. Her chest heaved up and down in an attempt to calm the anger rising in her throat.

“Crazy bitch” she heard Murphy whisper under his breath as Bellamy talked him down. 

She refused to put down the knife. 

Her hand was extended before her, guarding Wells in case Murphy tried to take him down again, which, from the hateful glare in his eyes, he was definitely thinking about. 

“What the hell is going on?” Clarke asked, mouth wide open. Y/N took a mental note of the campers who had returned. 

Four. One missing. 

No food.

Octavia was limping. 

“Murphy attacked Wells” Y/N responded, shoving her knife back into her jeans, trying to figure out what they had seen out there. “Are you okay?” She asked the group of returning prisoners, the group doubling over and panting from the run back. Finn’s eyes held a seriousness she hadn’t seen since he had been arrested. He shook his head.

“What happened to your wristband?” Clarke asked, rushing over to Wells and grasped his wrist. His empty wrist.

Wells shot a dirty look at Bellamy, Y/N followed suit. 

“Ask him”

Clarke strode over, anger increasing with each step as her brow furrowed, jaw clenching. “How many?” Bellamy was silent, cut off by Murphy’s proud: “Twenty-four and counting.” The freshly pummeled delinquent sent a glare toward Y/N as he said that, smiling at their growing statistics. She resisted the urge to tackle him then and there. One, because he had more strength than her, and because Miller’s words from yesterday rang in her head. 

He wasn’t worth it. 

“You idiots!” Clarke spat, “Life support on the Ark is failing!”

The kids began to murmur again as they realized that what Y/N had been saying last night was actually true and they were fighting a losing battle. Hushed tones began to wonder about the possibility of survival.

“Where’s the kid with the goggles?” Wells asked, suddenly realizing the low amount of returning campers. 

“We were attacked, and Jasper was taken.” 

Y/N’s chest constricted, breathing accelerating. Her body grew still, all of her fear carefully hidden behind the mask of stone she wore on her face. Down here fear is death.

“Attacked?” She asked, confusion crossing her face while she crept forward to join the exhausted group.

“Turns out when the last man from the Earth died on the Ark, he wasn’t the last grounder” Finn spoke ominously, shifting his gaze toward Clarke, apprehension on both of their faces.

“That means we can survive” Y/N spoke up, trying to remain optimistic, “Radiation won’t kill us.”

“But the grounders will” Clarke finished, eyes flickering toward her wrist, relieved to see Y/N still had her wristband on, retreating further into the camp as Bellamy knelt next to Octavia. 

Panicked whispers began to grow around the camp, spreading like a wildfire at the thought of other humans attacking one of their own. 

She flipped her attention away from the dissipating crowd back to the sibling duo. Something tugged on her heartstrings, almost as if the helpless look on Bellamy’s face was asking for someone else to step in. 

What little medical experience she had she learned from her mother and helping Clarke study for the doctoral exams. So it wasn’t much, but she knew how to wrap a wound and that was enough for now.

Y/N moved forward, palms open in an olive branch as she asked to inspect the wound. 

“Why?” Bellamy asked, guard up, “So you can make another sarcastic remark about us?” “Bell…” Octavia spoke softly, her nod enough consent to inspect the bleeding gash in her leg. 

“The good news is that it looks okay.” Y/N responded, cleaning the wound as best she could and retying the bandage, “The bad news is that I am not a qualified professional so take that with a grain of salt.” 

Octavia burst into giggles at the joke, Y/N’s chuckles mixing with the younger girls laughter. 

All Bellamy could do was stare. 

“We’re headed to find Jasper.” Clarke appeared from nowhere, toting Finn and Wells behind her. “We could really use you out there Y/N.”

“Try and stop me.” The engineer smiled, patting the knife on her side, her mind drifting to the scientific journal buried in her pocket, each page containing endless useful information about their unknown home.

Octavia struggled to stand up, “I’m coming too.”

“Forget it” Bellamy ordered, pushing her back down “You’re staying here.”

Octavia looked like she was about to protest until Clarke stepped in. “He’s right, your leg will just slow us down anyway.”

Y/N faced the reckless teen. “I’ll try and find something to use on your leg when I get back.”

Octavia shot a grateful look at the engineer, grasping tightly to the log she was sitting on. 

“I’m here for you” Clarke turned her attention to Bellamy, catching everyone in the vicinity by surprise. “I hear you have a gun.”

Bellamy lifted up his shirt, exposing the pistol stuck into the band of his jeans. Y/N scoffed internally, of course, he would have a gun. Of all the kids in the camp, he was the one with the firearm?

They must really be screwed.

“Good” Clarke began to move out, “Follow me.”

“Why would I do that?”

Clarke’s face pulled back in surprise, “because you want them to follow you, and right now they’re thinking only one of us is scared.”

Bellamy paused for a full beat before grabbing Murphy and following the group out of camp. Y/N rolled her eyes internally as the attacker joined their party, the group heading out into the same woods that had swallowed up Jasper not too long ago. 

“Let’s split up” Finn suggested, sending an incredibly unsubtle look toward Clarke. 

Wells gulped, stepping forward protectively, “I’ll go with Clarke.”

“No!” Clarke jumped in, a resentful look on her face, “Stay with Y/N.” The blonde shifted her gaze before following after the spacewalker. 

“Clarke wait!” She ran after the blonde, grasping her hand incredulously. “You’re just going to leave me with him?”

“You know the most about this place” She rationalized, gaze flickering to her pocket, “someone has to take care of those three” She flicked her gaze back at the trio, “Besides you get along better with him than I do.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Clarke smiled, tearing her hand out of Y/N’s grip. “You’ll be fine, now go.”

She nodded, swallowing the irritation into her stomach as she trudged through the greenery, unable to enjoy the beauty of the planet surrounding her due to the arguing behind her. She could feel eyes watching her every move, although she wasn’t quite sure if it was Bellamy or Murphy. 

The annoyance continued to build and twist until Bellamy spoke for the first time since leaving Camp.

“Must suck to be in love with someone who doesn’t know you exist.” He taunted Wells. 

“Shut up Bellamy.” The teen responded.

“I’m just saying” Bellamy continued, “with Finn around it’s like she doesn’t even see you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, irritation pooling at the stupidity of the argument, “Can you guys finish your pissing contest later? I’m trying to concentrate.”

She pushed forward, her movements halting as Bellamy grasped her bicep, keeping her in place as his hand trailed down her forearm, landing on the steel wristband surrounding her hand. 

“Take this off and I’ll consider doing whatever you say.”

A laugh escaped her mouth involuntarily, catching the leader off guard. She ripped her wrist out of his enormous palm, tilting her chin upward to meet him in the eye. “You want the Ark to think I’m dead? Kill me first.”

“Believe me, it’s not for a lack of trying” Murphy interjected, crossing his arms, a sneer growing on his face as he recalled the events of the morning.

“You know what Blake?” Y/N had reached her breaking point, annoyance bubbling over until she couldn’t handle it anymore. “You can play leader all you want, but don’t pretend it’s for anything other than your own selfish motives.” The words flowed from her brain straight to her mouth, filter forgotten. “You can pretend it’s for your sister, or for some higher purpose but I know the truth. You’re just a scared kid afraid of getting in trouble because he did something the adults wouldn’t pardon him for.”

His jaw clenched at the accusation. 

She had found his weak spot.

Y/N smiled dangerously.

“So go ahead, play leader, hide behind your sister, hell, you can even pretend to see through me, it doesn’t change the fact that I. See. Through. You.”

Her thin finger poked his chest, emphasizing her point further. The guard grabbed the limb in his hand, eyes flickering from Y/N’s face to the bracelet.

Tense silence stood between the two, broken only by Clarke’s voice calling them forward, claiming to have discovered new tracks. 

“Jasper!” Clarke called, running toward the low moaning, Y/N following soon after. The tracks exited into a clearing, a bare tree standing in the middle, Jasper’s limp body tied against the bark.

“Jasper hang on!” Y/N called, searching the ground for a safe way to the tree, ignoring Clarke’s stride forward. “Clarke wait--”

The ground collapsed beneath her, spikes awaiting the kids beneath the trap, Bellamy’s arm the only thing keeping Clarke tethered to the world above. Finn and Wells hurried to pull the two delinquents up, Bellamy still entranced by the trap before him.

“They knew we were coming” Y/n murmured, “That’s why they kept him alive.”

Finn and Murphy moved forward, as the three remaining teens brandished what weapons they held, ready to fight off whatever grounders awaited them. Instead, they were greeted with a low growl and shivering grass.

“Bellamy,” Y/N warned, eyes never leaving the green stalks, “Now would be a good time to take out that gun.”

He nodded, hand moving to the hem of his shirt, ready to fire at whatever awaited in the grass. It only took a second for the panther to lock eyes on one of them. 

“Bellamy,” She warned, pulse quickening, “Now.”

The older boy nodded, hand grasping for the hilt, only to meet empty air. 

Gunshots rang out from Wells’ hand, forcing the panther back into the grass, Y/N’s eyes scanning the edges near her and Bellamy, watching for the slightest quiver.

Instead, she caught the slightest glimpse of black, the flickering of a tail slowing right near Bellamy. 

“Bellamy watch out!” Her heart took over her head, and she jumped in front of the taller kid, pushing him behind her as she braced herself for impact, a gunshot silencing the panther once and for all.

Her breathing grew ragged, eyes locked firmly on the dead animal at her feet, refusing to register any words other than Bellamy’s simple, “Now she sees you.”

His face dropped, mouth hanging open in an ‘o’ as his eyes threatened to bug out of his head. It was the perfect mirror image of Clarke’s, unable to believe someone he hated had risked their life to save his. Unable to believe someone thought he was worth saving.

But Y/N never saw his face.

***

Try as he might, Bellamy could not tear his gaze from Y/N. 

She sat with Clarke and Finn, refusing to take off her bracelet, sharing with the two other delinquents. 

The three people who kept challenging his position in the camp.

The three people he needed to deal with quickly. 

And yet...

He wanted to thank her. To go over and offer his piece of the panther as a peace offering for saving his life. To start a truce. 

She was smart. She was the top engineer back on the Ark. She could offer a lot. 

But she was right.

She saw right through him, and he couldn’t have that.

Ooooh, what’s this? A medium burn again? Perhaps, or perhaps I’m fooling you all, who knows?

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[nexstage]

LIMBO SILVAM - PART 8 (3/3)

However, her battered nerves told her to keep moving and she wrapped her arms around her crush, running even against a ruthless, chill wind and got both of them behind a bunch of rocks a bit beyond in the path. The hail and blizzards kept blowing brutally, but with the improvised shield the rocks gave them, the gems were safe.

The former technician looked at her romantic partner, a mix of bewilderment and astonishment imprinted in her eyes. Lapis caressed her right cheek shakily, a tearful smile adorning her face "You idiot. Heroic i-idiot". Peridot, in an instant, gave her the mother of bear hugs, crying like a toddler, not letting her go for fear of seeing Lapis disappear. The other gem rubbed circles in her back while the tears rolled down her cheeks. Lazuli was trembling, slightly, but trembling afraid of losing Peridot, of dying, of exhaustion and many other things. But holding onto the gem she loved so much brought her some peace, stopping her from going insane in this crazy adventure.

After some minutes hugging, crying and letting her emotions out, Peridot -although reluctantly- let go of her romantic partner and rubbed at her eyes, sniffing. Lapis got up and lent Peri a hand which she took fastly, her grip ironclad for obvious reasons. "I don't want to lose you. Don't leave me, please" she said in a small, pitiful voice. Lapis gave her a kind hug to reassure her everything would be ok, at least for now.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Peri. It was dangerous but very brave of you. If it weren't for your words... I would have done something really stupid despite my intentions of saving you"

The green gem blushed at her compliments and smiled a bit at her, "You're important to me, Laz. We're important to each other, so, let's protect our backs with all we have AND mean it" the sudden seriousness in Peri's eyes told Lapis that this incident would be something they'd have to talk privately once they returned home. Still, the ocean gem just nodded accepting that and both kept walking through the paved path.

Or both gems tried to, because a strong, chill wind surprised them. Not wanting a repeat of the last near-tragic event, Lazuli and Peridot shielded themselves using the bunch of rocks, waiting for the blizzard to stop. When it did, they ran as quickly as they could, passing by the long, bizarre windows that were letting the cold air of the snow storm to hit them.

The wisps were more savagge the more they advanced. The stress, exhaustion, the marks on their bodies, the glitching and pain, were too much and sometimes they tripped on the stairs or got sweeped by the gales. Some minutes later, fortunately, the path ended in another entrance and they went through it, thinking things would be easier this time for a change.

Both Crystal Gems didn't know how wrong they were.

Once they got out of that dangerous zone at the edge of the side of that mountain, Lapis and Peridot faced an immense white desert. Kilometers of snow dunes where those weird signs were scattered but also many branches of trees, covered by the white, icy substance. Oh! And added to all of that was the enraged lightnings whose roars gave Peridot a big bad vibe. She was never a fan of lightnings.

"We're so close, Peri. The mountain's light is closer to us"

It was in indeed, though still far away. But the luminous pilar that came from the mountain's divided-in-two peak was more clear-cut than before, despite the raging storm and the powerful gales that went in circles like creating a frozen tornado. Peridot gulped at the idea of dealing with such monstruos weather and in the conditions they were in; however, an encouraging smile from Lapis was enough to lift her determination.

"Let's get this over with" both tightened their hold on each other's hands and walked through the snow.

The winds and the coldness was eating them for how painfully slow it made their journey. Lapis side-hugged her crush to prevent the blizzards to separate Peridot from her, though it didn't work with the star-shaped visor that went flying to another part. The only thing they could grab to not be sweeped abruptly was the rock-made signs, but those items weren't that strong to protect them.

Then an ominous shadow got their attention. Lapis and Peridot's eyes widened in horror at seeing the colossal monster. The creature roared and from its body 2, 5, no, 8! 8 robed-like figures came out. All of them flying towards them!

Both gems ran as black arrows were fired against them. Each time one touched the ground, it bursted into long spikes. Lazuli carried Peridot in her arms to protect her from them, taking a lot of damage in her extremities. The green gem pulled away desperately to try to defend her companion from those monsters, but the other didn't let her while she ran.

It didn't last, however, for the former technician was able to got out of the embrace and held both her comrade's hands to lead her to a refuge or anywhere very far away from the ruthless ambush. One of the clodded figures, though, tackled the engineer and the gales sweeped her some meters away from Lapis.

"PERIDOT!!!!" Against reason, the ocean gem rushed to her aid, fear like nothing she had felt consuming her mind. Losing her, such a thought sparked in Lazuli energy enough to rescue her love before those things killed her.

Peridot, on the other hand, had grabbed one of the rock-made signs so the gales couldn't leave her discarded in another place. Her visorless eyes were useless against the snow, hail and cold air blown into her face. Then Lapis' voice got her to open a bit her vision spheres, watching in awe and shock how the other gem was avoiding with the best agility she could show the black arrows of the shadow-y figures. But one of them, suddenly, stabbed her back, coming out from the chest.

Peridot yelled, her shrieks the embodiment of terror. The blue gem fell to her knees and two more arrows pierced each of the legs, from her mouth an agonizing scream escaped. One of the shadows tackled her cruelly and the gem collided with a rock-made sign which left her unconscious.

The mechanic fought endlessly against the blizzards to reach her romantic partner, many times being hit by the arrows but not stopping for a second until she was in front of a heavly wounded Lapis. Putting her over her back, Peri ordered her mind to energize her legs so running could save them both.

The eight shadows fly towards the gems, the engineer, meanwhile, focusing in two tasks while sprinting madly: protect Lapis and not losing from her sight the peak of the mountain. A rain of black arrows was directed at her from every angle, making it impossible for her to evade them all.

It was a living hell. Needles, nails, knives, any sharp object used hadn't been able to cause that kind of pain. And to make it worse, Lapis was receiving more damage, but in her back!

'Keep running, you clod! Keep running until they can't follow you anymore! You two have to live!' her mind yelled at her. It was the best encouragment she could create to not be swallowed by despair.

--------------------

How many steps had she taken? Her brain had lost the count already. How many arrows pierced through her and Lapis' body? She hoped not so many. How many times her eyes had to endure the icy winds? Stars, Peridot missed her star-shaped visor so much. How much it would take to reach the goddamn peak and go home?

...

...

Wait a second.

...

...

Where the hell was the mountain?!

"Where is it? WHERE IS IT?!" No no no! This was all wrong! It couldn't be happening! The mountain was there, the pilar of light shining, how it could disappear?!

Peridot searched for it but only got snowflakes in her eyes. An horizon obscured by dense fog and a grey-and-white sky above her and Lapis, the only two things she was able to see.

Kilometers and kilometers of snow dunes, nothing and no one else.

They were lost. She had gotten them lost. Ok... Ok... Calm down, it couldn't be that bad...

"Someone help me! Please!" No, it TRULY was bad. Really worse than ever.

"Please! I'm-I'm lost! I'm lost and Lapis is wounded! Please help!" Hopelessness and self-reproach clawed at her heart, guilt tainting her every thought. Idiot, idiot, idiot! Just when they needed most to find a refuge and keep going, she had to ruin it all! Now they were lost and going to die there! Their last chance of coming back home unreachable!

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Filled with rage and frustration, Peridot kicked the snow-covered ground mercilessly, helpless tears running down her cheeks. Her anger was so deep that she didn't notice when Lapis, still unconscious, fell from her back. Minutes passed with her outburst wasting the last bit of her strength, her body's glitches stopped her from a moment, the sharp pain they caused making her trip and kiss the floor much to her humilliation. She was so done with this shit.

"P-Peri..." Then, as if waking from a trance, Peridot looked at her right and saw her love barely moving, the snow covering her slowly.

"Lapis!" She ran to her companion and put her in her arms. The blue gem opened her eyes a bit, confusion written in her face.

"Where...are we? Have we...arrived...already?" The engineer's heart broke at those questions. She really wanted to tell her that they were close but lying was a mistake she didn't want to repeat, even if both were going to perish. "I'm s-so sorry, Laz... I'm sorry... We were so close but... I ruined it... I don't know where we are... I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry"

Lapis' body convulsed in pretty disturbing glitches, much to the other's horror, leaving the ocean gem more exhausted and weaker than ever. Still, she placed a hand in Peri's cheek and caressed it lovingly, "At least... I'm with you"

The little gem wept guiltily, hugging her comrade and laying at her side in the snow. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she mumbled. Lapis wrapped her arms around her waist to comfort her but her weeping got worse. "If I-If I had been stronger, w-we would already be in the peak... Going home"

Lazuli put her hand under Peridot's chin so they could be face to face. "You dork... D-Don't you see? You're m-my home. I love you" the former technician kissed her passionately, deeply moved by those words "I love you too".

Both hugged each other more and stayed like that in the chill ground, letting the snow covered them. A deep slumber overtook their minds while a mass of darkness emerged from the snow beneath them and swallowed them whole.

[imagining-supernatural]

Chapter 2: History Class

Cracks In The Dam Series – Bucky’s POV

She’s a quiet engineering and physics major trying to forget the demons of her past, and he’s the campus playboy trying to turn over a new leaf. Their friendship is unlikely, but just might be forged to withstand the cracks in the dams they’ve built to protect themselves. (BuckyxReader college au)

Word Count: 2723

“Hey Bucky,” one of the girls in my history class said with a grin and a wink. I just gave her a slight nod as I finished the rest of my coffee. I didn’t remember her name, but I was pretty sure we’d hooked up once or twice. She didn’t seem too familiar though, so it was probably at least a year ago.

I might not remember the names of all the women I slept with, but I sure as hell remembered their faces. I wasn’t a complete douche.

“Have you started on the term paper we have due?” She shifted her weight, popping her hip out a bit and pushing her boobs forward as she pouted slightly. “I just can’t pick a topic. There are so many good options.”

I wasn’t up for this today. I’d spent all of last night on the phone with Aunt Jeanie, trying to figure out what to do with Rebecca. I was running on about two hours of sleep, five shots of espresso, and a prayer to make it through the day. Chatting with someone who, I’m sure was a great person, but didn’t seem to have much substance around me was just too exhausting.

“I’m halfway done already,” I said carelessly, tossing the empty coffee cup in a nearby trashcan. “Good luck with yours, though.”

And with that, she actually let me pass by. Thank God she wasn’t one of the clingy ones.

Once I was through the doors and into the lecture hall, I surveyed my options. My usual seat in the back was already surrounded by a few of the guys I hung out with and a group of girls. If I couldn’t even handle a conversation with that chick earlier, there was no way I would survive an entire hour surrounded by them.

That left two options: Sit alone or take the seat that always seemed to be open next to Y/N and finally see what she did all hour in her notebook.

It was basically a no-brainer decision.

I’m halfway in my seat before I speak up, giving her no chance to tell me to fuck off. “Another exciting day learning about fifteenth century history.”

“Oh lovely,” she says, not even looking at me. “Another stimulating conversation with Bucky.”

How she knew it was me, I have no idea. But the idea that she was hyperaware of my presence makes me laugh. “It’s been a long two days without me. I know it’s hard, doll.”

“Why don’t you go sit with your harem? I’m sure they need your attention more than I do.”

“Probably.” So she did pay enough attention to me to know where I usually sat. This new information made me grin and sit back in my chair. Was she always this observant, or just when it came to me?

Just as I’m about to say something else, and God knows what would come out of my mouth, she glances at her watch before pulling her phone out of her backpack. Her head shakes slightly as she reads whatever’s on the screen.

“God,” she mumbles. “It’s like babysitting a five-year-old.”

Underneath her slightly annoyed expression is that same small smile she had after that Tony guy drove off on Friday night. “That the dude from your date on Friday?”

“Yeah,” she says almost without thought. At least, I assume it’s without thought because she normally never reveals anything to me. “But it wasn’t a date.”

“Not a date,” I scoff as she types out a text. “Right. Dressed like you were? Doll, that dress you wore was probably more than my last paycheck.”

And just like that, my mind flashes back to that night and that dress. Damn she had a nice body. Just the memory of how she looked was enough to wake me up even more. Sitting by her had definitely been the right choice today.

For the first time since I sat down, she turned in her chair and faces me head on. Her eyes bore into mine and there’s a slight smirk playing around the corner of her lips. Her very kissable lips. Dammit Steve.

“Why so interested in my love life, Barnes? Your one-night stands getting boring?”

And there was the deflection I was so used to from her. So I mimic her posture, leaning forward with my elbows on the desk. “Why so defensive, Y/L/N? Jealous that your best friend found her true love and you struck out on Friday night?”

Her groan was immediate, and it made me smile. This wasn’t just a ploy in our little bantering game. That groan was a genuine Y/N reaction. She probably wasn’t aware, but her walls were slowly coming down around me.

“Oh, God, don’t remind me about Nat and Steve. They’re disgusting. Literally, they’re always making out on the couch or in my kitchen or… ugh.”

Even under her complaining, I could see that she was happy for her friend. She wasn’t one of those girls who got jealous over someone else’s happiness. It just made me like her all the more.

Her phone vibrated again and she read the messages, rolling her eyes.

“Boy trouble?” I can’t help the teasing any more than she can help the glare she throws my way.

“Boss trouble. Gimme a sec.”

As she puts her phone to her ear, I think about her last few words. She’d just excused herself from our conversation. Politely. She probably didn’t even realize she did it, but it was a sign that some part of her liked talking to me.

“Go to the damn hospital, Tony.”

No greetings, interesting. I had a feeling I was about to get a very close look into what made Y/N tick.

“I will drag your stupid ass to the hospital myself.” Didn’t she say this was her boss? “If I’m going to be on my A-Game this week, then you need to be too. I need your brain.” What kind of a boss let their employee talk to them like that? “It’s the whole reason I have a job. I’m going to tell Jarvis to call that ambulance.”

If I didn’t already like Y/N before now, this conversation between her and her boss was certainly cementing it. This was a woman who wasn’t scared to tell someone to fuck off. This was a woman who could give my shit right back to me. This was the kind of woman that I wanted – no, needed –  in my life.

“For fucks sake, man. I’ll do the presentation. Your brain is your best asset and no-no, don’t say anything. I regret that word choice already. You need to make sure you didn’t fuck up and ruin it.”

Seriously, what kind of a person did Y/N work for? Whoever it was, she was familiar enough to cuss him out while trying to take care of him. For someone who was pretty quiet around most people from what I’d seen, this was a whole new layer.

“I’ll believe it when a doctor tells me that.” And, without any farewell, she hung up. In the next second, she was dialing another number. “Jarvis, I’m overriding whatever stupid command Tony gave you and telling you to call a goddamn ambulance. Override code: Please and thank you.”

I learned more about her, but there were so many more questions piling up now as she hung up. Her eyes flashed over to me and I grinned. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to their boss like that.”

“You’ve never met my boss,” she said with a weary voice. “You’d understand.”

My mouth opened, but I was once again cut off before I could get any words out. The professor started the lecture and I listened with half an ear. History was interesting to me and I spent a lot of my life searching out the stories on my own, so I knew enough to be able to give only half of my attention to the professor.

The other half of my attention started wandering to Rebecca and Aunt Jeanie, but I quickly pulled it back into place. I could worry about them later. Things were a mess, but I couldn’t let it overtake my entire life.

So I glanced down to Y/N’s notebook to see what kind of a notetaker she was. Instead of dates and names and events the professor was saying, her page was covered with drawings and calculations. I knew she was smart. Nat wouldn’t shut up about how smart Y/N was. But I’ve never seen her in action. She was entirely focused on whatever the hell she was trying to figure out. Arrows, numbers, and scribbled out equations littered the paper.

Just as she got another text and read it on her watch, I leaned closer and saw what looked to be a drawing of a boot.

She muttered something under her breath, probably about the text, and I leaned closer. She obviously wasn’t paying attention to class, so I wouldn’t be distracting her too much. “You a fashion designer or something?”

Obviously not, since most clothes didn’t require advanced calculus.

“Or something.” Her hand on my shoulder pushed me away a bit. “Dude, personal space.”

A few minutes passed where she just stared at her paper with squinty eyes. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Damn, I wish I could see her thought process. Instead, I leaned over and pointed at one of the boot-looking doodles she was staring at. “If you’re wondering what color to make it, I’d go with a bright green.”

“Not helping.” She was so focused on her notebook. Why had she even come to class today if she wasn’t going to pay attention? Either she already knew all about the Ming Dynasty and the spread of Islam into Africa, or she was so lost by this point in the semester that paying attention wouldn’t do any good. If the latter was the case, I could use that to my advantage.

For the rest of class, I made my plans. From what I’ve learned about her so far, getting Y/N to spend more time with me was going to be difficult. I had to play my cards just right. She was a busy woman, so carving out any portion of her schedule would already be like climbing Mount Everest. And there was the fact that my reputation preceded me, so I would have to overcome her preconception that I wanted to spend time with her just to get into her pants.

Not that I didn’t want to get into her pants. Any guy would be an idiot to refuse her. And, like Nat said last weekend, any chick would be an idiot too.

But I needed Y/N in my life to keep my sanity. Between her, Nat, and Steve, I felt like I had a chance of making it through my last few semesters of college and talking some sense into my little sister. Three people who weren’t afraid to call me out.

I needed Y/N. Even as just a friend.

“Well, that was a fascinating lecture, as usual,” I said, holding back a grin when Y/N snapped her head up with wide eyes, surprised that class was over.

“I sure hope none of that’s gonna be on the test.” Her weary mumble gave me hope. So she didn’t have a clue as to what was going on in this class.

Good.

That was what my entire plan was built on.

Now I just had to figure out how to bring it up… It wasn’t until we were outside the classroom that I decided to just come out and say it.

“You know, I could help you out with this class.”

“You?” She seemed far too doubtful. “Really?”

Did she really think that little of me? “Hey now, just because I’m hot and sexy as hell doesn’t mean I can’t be smart too. You should know.”

“Right,” she scoffed. But I wasn’t sure if the scoff was directed towards my comments about me or about her. She obviously knew how smart she was. But she had to know how attractive she was, too. I almost said something, but then I caught sight of the way her forehead was scrunched up a bit and the way the corner of her mouth twitched. She was considering my offer.

“No strings?”

“What kind of strings would I attach, Y/L/N?”

She stopped right outside the door and turned to stare at me. I wasn’t unused to having people’s eyes on me, but something about Y/N unnerved me. I tried my hardest not to let it show, though.

She was so close to accepting. I could see it. I just needed to find the right way to tip her over the edge. Coming right out and offering to help her seemed to get her attention. Suppose it couldn’t hurt to be completely truthful.

“Okay. Fine. One string,” I amended.

“Ha! I knew it.”

Tell it like it is. Y/N was friends with Natasha. She had to be used to blunt truths. If I was completely upfront with her, my chances at actually being her friend had to be better, right?

“One string…” I looked straight at her. “Friendship. That’s it. I promise. I’ll help you, but you have to admit that we’re friends.”

“Why?” She was completely taken aback. I guess that friendship wasn’t a request she ever expected from, what had she called me two weeks ago? The campus playboy bad boy?

Since the truth thing seemed to be working, I kept with it. I knew exactly how she would take my reasons, so I just decided to own up to them. “Alright, this is going to make me sound like a complete douche, but it’s the truth, I swear.”

“Spit it out, Buck.”

Buck. Not Bucky. Not Barnes. That was a good sign.

“I like this.” I gestured between us as if there were some sort of a string, or an invisible blob of whatever the hell our relationship was at the moment. “Because you’re not into me. Besides Nat, you’re the only other woman who doesn’t try to get my attention or get into my pants. It’s refreshing.”

Her face twisted into fake sympathy. “Poor Bucky. It must be so hard to have all the women falling over themselves for you. Being the resident sex-god must just be the worst.”

Resident sex-god. Campus playboy bad boy. I would have to file these away for the next time I updated my resume.

I mean, she was right to some degree. “I know, I know. Douchey, right?”

“It’s conceited, is what it is.” Now that the offer was out there and she could start processing everything, she started moving again. I easily kept pace. “I can guarantee you that Nat and I are not the only women who don’t wanna sleep with you. You just never notice the girls who don’t pay any attention to you.”

And that’s why I needed her to be my friend. That’s why I needed her in my life. She called me out on my bullshit and took my ego down a notch. If I was ever going to make it through whatever drama comes with Rebecca, I needed people like her around me.

“You’re probably right. But about our deal, whattaya say, friend?” I had one last argument up my sleeve. “Besides, we’re gonna spend a lot of time together anyway, with Nat and Steve dating. Might as well accept the inevitable.”

She glanced at her watch again, reading the message that came up. Her lips quirked up at the message, then she looked up at me and her smile changed a little, but it was still a smile. That was a good sign.

“Let’s see how the first study session goes.”

My grin was instantaneous. I was going to be late for my next class if I didn’t hurry, so I started walking backwards, away from wherever she was heading. “Tomorrow at one? Grab some lunch while we’re at it?”

“I have to work all day. I can do Wednesday at one though.”

It would be tight with my schedule, but I couldn’t chance her cancelling. “I’ll meet you at your place with food then. See ya later, friend!”

----

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[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. Puerto Rico turns out to be a little more than you bargained for. You need to make sure Bucky gets the important files, but can you see him after everything and still walk away? Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of torture and death Word Count: ~4,015 A/N: Weeeee  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“You’re a peach, Alfred,” you said, already gunning the engine to speed down the freeway.

“Always a pleasure to assist you, ma’am,” the AI said quietly.

You smiled and patted the dash affectionately. “Let’s go see the lord of the house, shall we?”

“I can hardly contain my excitement,” was Alfred’s dry, almost sarcastic response. Maybe you should have lightened up on the snark when you created him.

The rest of the trip to Puerto Rico was largely uneventful. Alfred’s directions kept you clear of any law enforcement or suspect individuals. You stopped in a random grocery store in Miami and grabbed enough food to last you through the trip to the island.

The boat had been a little ostentatious for your liking, but you weren’t going anywhere without Alfred and the Batmobile, not when you had no backup and your workshop was still packed up in Indiana. You’d have to upgrade it with flight capabilities at some point so you could drive it over the ocean. Boats were annoying to take care of and you knew you’d be selling this one as soon as you were done with it.

It wasn’t until you could see the island that it hit you.

You were going to see Bucky again.

You’d watched him on screens over the past few months. Kept close tabs on him. Even had to pick up and move once when he got too close to your hiding spot.

But you hadn’t looked him in the eye since the day you left all those months ago. Hadn’t felt the warmth of his skin against yours. Hell, until today you hadn’t touched another person in months... unless you were killing them. You had half a mind to turn the boat around and run away like the coward you were, but the information you had was too important. Bucky needed to know. It was his right as much as yours.

It would be simple. Go in, drop the file in a place he’d find it, make it out before he noticed your presence. Alfred was keeping tabs on Bucky, unbeknownst to your husband. He was good, but you knew how he worked. You doubted anyone but yourself knew where he was. Not even Steve or Natalia would be able to find him, no matter how hard they dug.

You docked in the space Alfred told you to and drew more than a few looks as you rolled out of the marina in the Batmobile. “Alright, buddy. Find me a place to drop the package,” you said as you idled at a stoplight.

“One moment, please. Searching for a suitable drop site.”

“Maybe calculate some quick escape routes through the city while you’re at it, just in case,” you said, eyeing the people passing by on foot and in their cars warily. You hated new places. Hated old places, too. Maybe you just hated everything, or perhaps there was a small area between those two wherein existed places you didn’t hate.

“I have found a suitable location to leave the file for discovery by Master Barnes. I advise haste to the site, as Sir’s behavior patterns tend to not hold a pattern at all and it is unlikely I will be able to find another suitable location before the day ends if we miss this one.”

“Got it, Alfred. Throw it up on the screen and take the wheel while I review it,” you said, pulling your hands off the steering wheel as Alfred took over driving. Turns out Bucky was on his way to a little farmer’s market on the north side of town. He was on foot, which didn’t surprise you much. You hadn’t caught him using motorcycles or cars while you’d been separated. You didn’t want to dwell too much on the possible implications of that, the guilt twisting low in your stomach unbidden.

“I suggest parking in the garage a few blocks over. The appearance of the Batmobile will only draw unwanted attention,” Alfred reasoned.

You groaned, biting your lip as you thought it over. Alfred was right, of course. The moment Bucky caught sight of the Batmobile the jig would be up. You still had to escape back to your boat and that’s be a lot more difficult if Bucky tilted the Batmobile on its side.

You really needed to get those flight functions installed.

“I’m going in undercover, Alfred. Nanomask, nanoskin. I’ll leave the file where I know he’ll find it and observe from a distance, ensure he receives the package.”

“(Y/N), there’s been a new development,” Alfred informed you warily.

You groaned. That tone never meant anything good for you. “What is it, Alfred?”

“It appears SHIELD activity in the area has increased since we made landfall.”

You frowned. “Are they after us?” you asked, already slipping back into combat mode. The icy coldness that instantly wormed its way into your bones scared you. How easy it was to slip back into the ruthless efficiency of The Soldier when you were in danger.

“It does not appear they are aware of our presence,” Alfred informed you carefully. You knew he was monitoring your vitals closely enough to recognize the change. “They are gathered around ruins in the south of the city... From what I can gather it appears that it is Coulson and his team.”

You groaned and thumped your head forward onto the steering wheel. “They’re in trouble, aren’t they?” you murmured, already knowing Alfred’s answer. Where Coulson and his team went, trouble sure well followed.

“Yes, (Y/N). Should I set a course for their location?” Alfred asked, tone neutral.

You glanced at the folder on the seat beside you for a long moment, torn. Finally you cursed and nodded. Bucky waited this long. He could wait a few hours more for you to help Coulson and his merry band of fucking idiots. “Turn the car around, Alfred. We have damsels in distress to save.”

Puerto Fucking Rico. You should have just turned your damn boat around the second you made port. Maybe given Bucky a heads up you were coming so he was waiting on the docks for you and peaced out you the moment he step foot on your ship. Hell, if you had your way you wouldn’t even stop, just trust in his ability to jump onboard as you sped by.

“We have to go, Triplett. Now,” you gritted out, staring at the large cylindrical room Skye had just disappeared into with a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Not without Skye!” Triplett said, banging against the thick, solid stone as though it’d make a difference. “Don’t you- don’t you have something that can break through these walls?” he asked, sparing you only a glance.

You looked up at the ancient ceiling and grimaced. “Not anything that wouldn’t also bring the whole thing down on us. I know she’s a good agent, a good person, but I’m not looking to die today,” you muttered. I have better things to be doing right now, you thought bitterly. That was perhaps a bit unfair. From what you could glean, whatever SHIELD was doing here was important.

“We can’t just stay here with our thumbs up our-” he froze as the ground began to shake. And the walls. And the ceiling.

You watched in horror as a long crack ran up the side of the room. Even more branched out from the center room to create a web-like pattern on the ceiling and walls around.

“Run,” you whispered, eyes dropping to Triplett in horror. “Run!” you yelled, already turning on your heel to make a break for the exit you saw earlier. You weren’t getting fucking buried under tons of rock today. You didn’t make it through World War II and 70 years of brainwashing just to die to some damn rocks... that you shouldn’t even be having to deal with if SHIELD could just get its goddamned shit together!

You ran slow enough for Triplett to keep up and had half a mind to throw him over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry, knowing you’d get the two of you there faster. The only problem was the somewhat narrow hallways.

It didn’t seem to be a problem, though. The earthquake died down, leaving the tunnels only partially collapsed, especially close to the chamber.

“Skye,” Triplett whispered, staring down the hallway towards the chamber where she’d disappeared. He made to run back to her, but your firm hand on his shoulder froze him in his tracks. “Get off of me!” he said angrily, jerking away from your touch.

Your gaze turned a little icy as you regarded him. “I know you want to go to her, but we don’t know if the tunnels are stable. You have people up there that have no idea what’s happening. If you go after her now half-cocked you could get yourself killed. Possibly the agents that come after you, too, if they don’t know what they’ll be walking into. Yes, you should try to save her, but not if even more people get killed in the process. You don’t even know what or who is waiting for you in that room.”

Triplett’s jaw worked as he stared at you. Finally, he relaxed a slight bit and walked towards the entry room that had the rope they used to get in and out of the city. “Grandpa always said you were even more reckless than Captain America. Guess he was wrong,” he said, though it didn’t sound like a condemnation.

“I was young and foolish then. Now that I’m in my twilight years I found that wisdom really does come with age,” you said dryly.

Triplett looked up at you as he hooked himself up to the rope pulley system, looking conflicted. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here. I hope Skye’s okay, but if something bad happened in that chamber-” he paused and took a deep breath. “Just, thank you. Can you get out alright?” he asked as he gave the rope a sharp tug.

You jumped, letting your rockets boost you all the higher, and dug your talons into the thick rock. “I’ll manage. Good luck rescuing Skye, Triplett,” you said, already clawing your way up the hole.

It was so dark that you lost sight of Triplett within a minute, but that didn’t stop you from hearing his whispered but heartfelt “You too, Misses Barnes,” as you clambered upwards.

Fitz-Simmons was waiting at the top of the shaft. It was obvious from their slack-jawed expressions they hadn’t been expecting you or known you were down there to begin with.

You groaned and stretched your limbs, thankful to be out of the damn alien city. It messed with your electronics something fierce and your legs hadn’t worked quite right the entire time. Your hands’ wiring hadn’t been responsive at all.

“Triplett’s on his way up. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be,” you muttered, giving Fitz a friendly pat on the cheek and Simmons a playful, mocking salute before you walked out of the room, leaving them gaping in your wake.

“Did we miss the window, Alfred?” you asked the moment you were back into the Batmobile. You’d parked it well over a mile away. The walk had been ass, but you weren’t chancing any of the bullshit SHIELD seemed to attract. Not with your masterpiece.

“Affirmative, (Y/N). But you should be pleased to know I have found another opportunity.”

“Really? You’re the best, Alfred. What’s the plan?” you asked, already moving to buckle up.

“Wait,” Alfred said. You waited for him to elaborate further, but when he didn’t you frowned and leaned forward slightly.

“Whaddya mean?” you asked, confused.

“The opportunity has come to us,” Alfred said quietly. You had barely a moment to wonder at what he meant before a soft tap at your window startled you so badly you nearly screamed.

Your head whipped to the side and you stopped breathing.

James Buchanan Barnes was standing just outside, bright blue eyes squinted slightly as though it would help him see through the tinting on your windows (it would not).

Your pulse raced in your veins and it took you a second to remember how to breathe. He looked just like you remembered, but also different. His facial hair had grown out a bit, leaving him with a short, scruffy beard that hid his cleft chin and the sharp line of his jaw. His long hair was tucked behind his ears and half-hidden by a baseball cap. He was wearing a holey long sleeved shirt and gloves.

He looked amazing. Your memories and dreams and 2D images could never do him justice.

Color and feeling came slamming back into you in an unstoppable wave, washing through your unprepared mind like a tsunami through a coastal town. How had you not noticed the world had gone so grey around the edges? Had you really not realized that sights and smells had begun fading away to nothingness?

Bucky Barnes brought life to your existence, even now. Even with a piece of glass and a mask between you.

How stupid you’d been to leave him.

But you’d do anything to keep him safe.

Including leaving him again.

Apparently you’d been frozen long enough because he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles gently against the missile-proof glass again. You took one look in the mirror to ensure your mask was in place, displaying the face of another woman, before you rolled the window down slowly.

“Hey there, handsome. Are you the one I’m supposed to meet here?” you asked coyly, voice altered by the mask.

Bucky frowned slightly, though he looked more hurt than anything else. “Please don’t,” he whispered, sounding wrecked.

Your heart constricted painfully in your chest. You reached for the file and held it out between you. “Sorry if you don’t like the news I’m givin’ ya, sweetheart. I only get paid to deliver-”

“Stop,” he rasped. Pleaded. His grey-blue eyes bored into you, a window to his soul. He was hurting so, so badly.

And you’d done that to him.

“I’ve been watching you since you left the site that was crawling with SHIELD. Even with whatever tech you have disguising your face and cybernetics I know you. Not to mention I can hear your metal legs. They clink and whirr ever so softly whenever you move,” he whispered, giving you a sad smile. “Please don’t treat me like a fool.”

You grimaced as tears threatened to spill. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I- Please, get in. We’re in danger out in the open like this,” you whispered, your fear and sadness sounding odd in a voice that wasn’t your own. You didn’t want to show both of your faces in the same place so you’d wait until he was inside to take the mask off.

He stared at you for a long moment. “Will you take off the second I step away from your window?” he asked, voice almost accusing.

You shook your head quickly, pleading with him with your eyes. That hurt, but you deserved it. Deserved all of his anger and distrust. He stared at you a second longer before he walked around to the other side of the car and slipped inside. The moment he was in, you turned off the nano mask and slipped it from your face.

“Alfred, surveillance and guardian mode, please,” you said quietly.

“At once, Mistress Barnes. Additionally, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Barnes,” the AI said quietly, sensing the gravity of the situation between the two of you.

Bucky stared at the dashboard as though it’d grown a goat head and started singing the Russian national anthem at him.

You wanted to smile at his reaction, but the current atmosphere just wouldn’t allow it. “That’s Alfred, my AI. He helps me monitor... well, everything.”

“Everything... including me?” he asked, blue eyes sharp as he looked over at you.

“That is correct, Mister Barnes. Misses Barnes requested that I keep an eye on you at all times. It is thanks to her programming that I am able to perform such a monumental task, as you are quite adept at avoiding nearly all forms of surveillance. I fear without her input such a feat would have been impossible,” Alfred informed him.

Bucky’s eyes clouded over for a moment and didn’t clear when he looked up at you. “So you knew where I was? This whole time?” he asked.

His voice was immeasurably sad. It was the worst. You wanted him to yell at you. Cuss you out. Tell you he never wanted to see you again. Anger. Hate. Rage. You could take all of that and not even blink because you knew you deserved it, but the way he was looking at you just then, as though you’d just ripped his heart out with your bare hands? That was torture. What made it absolutely unbearable, though, was that, behind all that hurt, you could see the love in his eyes.

You didn’t have an answer. At least, not one that justified what you’d done. How foolish you’d been. How tremendously stupid. What was the point of being free if you couldn’t be with your heart?

“I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing for leaving you, Buck, but there’s somethin’ you gotta see first,” you said, holding the file out to him once more.

His eyes searched your face as he slowly reached for the file. For what, you didn’t know.

“I was lookin’ high and low for- well, you’ll see. I finally found a lead thanks to Pegs, but-” your voice died in your throat as the images in the file flashed in your mind’s eye. You didn’t have to look at the papers anymore. You’d long memorized every word, every grain of each picture.

Bucky eyed you warily, sensing your distress. He flipped the file open and his eyes immediately began scanning them. The furrow in his brow grew the longer he read until, at last, he got to the pictures. His face darkened immediately and you watched as tears fell onto the old pages. He raised his right hand and hastily wiped them away, but they just kept coming.

“So you found ‘im,” Bucky finally managed to get out between near-silent sobs.

You nodded as tears filled your eyes. “I had to tell ya in person.”

“S’that why you were trying to run away a minute ago?” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

You winced and curled in on yourself, ashamed. “You caught me off guard, s’all,” you murmured weakly.

Bucky frowned and closed the file slowly, turning his gaze on you. You felt like you were being zeroed in on by two huge spotlights and turned away, unable to meet his eyes.

You were surprised when you felt his large hands wrap around you and pull you gently but unerringly into his lap. You squirmed, knowing his gentle, kind touch was too good for you. Then he shushed you gently, his lips barely an inch from your ear. His right hand ran gently over your hair, slow and soothing, and you stilled immediately.

“I didn’t know how else to keep you safe, Buck,” you muttered brokenly.

Bucky inhaled deeply and let it out in a long sigh, but he wasn’t tense. In fact, he seemed the opposite. You’d melted into his touch and he’d done the same, nearly all tension leaving his body in the safety of this relatively safe space.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” he said, barely above a whisper. His chest rumbled with the words, sending a shiver down your spine. Although his voice was carefully controlled, his turmoil screamed in the way he clutched tightly at you as though you’d vanish if he didn’t touch every inch of you that he possibly could. He breathed your scent in deeply with every breath, eyes shut as he mouthed feather-light kisses onto your exposed skin. “No point in bein’ safe if I can’t be with you,” he said quietly, but with a firmness that couldn’t be denied.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching tightly at him.

“Don’t, Doll. Don’t apologize. Just promise me,” he whispered, taking your face between his hands. You leaned into the touch of his warm right hand and brought your right hand up to cup his left gently.

You closed your eyes and nodded against his palms, biting back tears. “I promise, Buck. I won’t leave you again. It’ll be you and me, like it was since the day I met you,” you whispered, finally opening your eyes to stare at his blue-grey ones.

You both leaned forward at the same time, lips touching tenderly together. The kiss was like coming home after a long day and you couldn’t help but smile into the simple touch, so much better than you remembered.

Finally, you broke away after what could have been seconds or minutes and nearly began crying at the look on his face. So open and loving as though the last 70 years hadn’t happened. Like you’d never been kidnapped back in the 40′s. Like you were just a dame and he was just a guy.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you whispered reverently, using your thumb to gently wipe the remnants of his tears from his face.

He caught your hand and planted a gentle kiss to your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments, his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again your breath caught in your throat. God, but he was stunning.

“I love you, too, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) Barnes.”

Nothing would ever be right again, not after everything the two of you had been through.

But perhaps, reunited once more, you might have the will to continue existing until you learned how to live again.

“Alfred, take us home,” you whispered to the AI.

“At once, madam,” Alfred responded instantly. The car turned on almost silently and began moving out of the garage, driven by Alfred. You had the best seat in the house and you weren’t planning on moving until it was time to leave the car.

“Where is home?” Bucky asked when he finally managed to pull his lips from the skin of your neck.

You smiled and carded your fingers lightly through his long hair. “Indiana.”

Bucky stared at you for a long second, more than one expression flicking across his face before it settled on surprise. “Indiana? As in-”

“Shelbyville, yeah,” you said quietly.

Bucky blinked a few times. His gaze clouded over for a minute before, “I was born there,” he said, half question, half statement.

“Yeah, Buck. You were,” you said quietly, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Moved to New York before I started grade school. Rebecca was only a year old,” Bucky said quietly, lost in the memories.

“That’s right, Buck,” you said quietly, rubbing slow circles into his back.

“I don’t remember it. Indiana,” he breathed, looking confused for a moment. “Don’t think I ever remembered it, though,” he said, though he sounded unsure.

You carefully brushed some of his hair from his face and placed a kiss to his forehead. “Not much to remember anyway. I hope you like corn,” you said, trying for some levity.

It worked, more or less. Bucky’s lip quirked up at the corner, though his smile was more of a grimace. “We’re not gonna stay there though, are we?” he asked knowingly.

You shook your head slowly. You hadn’t wanted to talk about this just yet, but he knew you too well for your own good. “Only for a few days. I’m... we’re not done yet,” you said, nodding your head towards the file that Bucky had carefully stowed on the dash.

Bucky’s gaze turned hard. Determined. There was absolutely zero hesitation when he looked expectantly at you. God, you did not deserve this man. “What’s the plan, Doll?”

Next Chapter

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[trevorcollumns]

A Good Sleep

Pairing: Trevor C x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1800+

Warnings: swearing, a joke about a car crash

A/N: my first attempt at writing in 3 years, do me a favour and please let me know how I did lmao

—————

Seven goddamn thirty.

You click the B team office closed, arm the lock, and open Twitter as you shoulder open the door to the main office.

“Hey, I’m off now. I’ll pick up those SD cards in the morning - Trevor?”

You don’t see him at first, across the room at his desk, slumped over with his head cradled in his crossed arms. He hadn’t been one hundred percent today, but you didn’t realise it was this bad. The soft snores you hear tell you otherwise. You drop your bag on the couch and tread carefully through the trash pile at the back of the room. “Trev?”

He stirs and mumbles what might be a “what’s up,” but remains facedown in his keyboard.

“Come on, you’re going home right now.” You reach to place your hand on his back, but your stomach flip-flops at the thought, so you settle for the back of his chair. Swaying it lightly, you reach for his mouse to save his work and shut down the computer.

Trevor rouses to swat at your hand clumsily, “S’fine, Y/N, I just- I gotta finish this.” He sits upright and stretches, and you have to bite back a smile at the face he pulls. However, when he slumps backwards into his chair and rubs at his face, you frown at the bags under his eyes. Looking up at you, he gives you a dopey smile, “Is it that bad?”

You open your mouth to kindly object, but Trevor laughs at bit, and you do too. “Yeah, it’s that bad,” you admit. You know you have that stupid kind-of-fond, kind-of-pitiful smirk going on, but you let it stay there. “These emails will be here tomorrow, and you need sleep. So do I. Go home so I can sleep in peace.”

“Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to keep you up at night,” Trevor teases as he stands up.

Heat creeps up your neck and cheeks - oh please, like you don’t already . He yawns and stretches again, and you have to turn away your face as your blush deepens. You’re searching for something to say when he drops his stretch and claps his hands on his thighs.

“Fuck,” he sighs, his shouldered slumped and eyes trained unfocused on the floor.

You smirk again, “Fuck?”

“Yeah,” he smiles at you sheepishly as he collects his stuff from his desk, “Thanks for checking in. I would have been here all night.”

“I’m sure. And it’s no worry.” You regard him as he rubs at his face again, “Are you alright to get home?”

Trevor jingles the keys hooked on one of his fingers.

You laugh. “No. No, you cannot drive like this. Not in this weather.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll just-”

“Nope. You’re ten minutes from mine. If something happened to you, I’d never sleep again.” You make your way back to the other side of the office, grab your bag from the couch and hold the door for him. “Let’s go.”

You watch him process your words for a beat, then pocket his keys and follow you to the door. “Yes, ma’am.”

The walk to your car is comfortably quiet, albeit the slight drag of Trevor’s feet and the little yawns he tries to stifle. You steal glances at him, disguised as concern as he lags behind you a little through the corridors of Stage 2. You’re unable to help yourself - Trevor is stunning twenty four hours a day seven days a week, but you’ve never seen him so sleepy. His mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes have you blushing for no good reason, and pushing away some persistent thoughts.

Outside, it’s well past dark and freezing, and you both pick up the pace as you dig your keys out of your bag. Your car isn’t far, and Trevor laughs as he moves a plate with the crumbs of this morning’s breakfast from the passenger seat before he climbs in. “Relatable,” he grins at you.

“Gotta do what I gotta do to be on time. Can’t let the boss down.” You flash him a teasing smile, turn on the heating, put your car in gear, and head for the gates.

As you do, Trevor scoffs. “Impossible.” He fiddles with your stereo, and your playlist from this morning quietly fills the silence. “Good stuff,” he murmurs and sinks into his seat, head back and eyes closed to the street lights now passing overhead.

“Big weekend, then?” you query.

He turns his face towards you, eyebrows raised in question. “Hmm?”

“It’s Monday and you’re dead to the world, Trev.”

“Oh,” he laughs, “I, uh, guess I got a little too invested in Hell’s Kitchen reruns last night.”

You look at him incredulously. “One half of me wants to say fair play, the other half wants to say you’re an idiot.”

“Fair play.”

You laugh, a good proper laugh, and Trevor does too, and you feel good - light, and giddy. The laughter is passing when you feel his gaze on you. Still giggling, you tear your eyes from the road to find him watching you with another dopey smile. “What?”

Trevor starts a little, like you’ve interrupted a thought. A beat goes by, and his smile returns. “You’re the prettiest Uber driver I’ve ever had.” He looks pleased with himself for the joke.

Your grin falters for a split second while you internalise the remark. “Mm, good one,” your grin returns, but your knuckles are white where you grip the steering wheel.

“No, really. I, uh, I mean it.” This time when you look at him, his smile is gentle and ernest.

“Oh.” You’re taken aback, and the shade of red you’re sure you’re turning is mortifying, but you glance back at him nonetheless, “Thanks, Trev.”

“Any time.” Trevor says confidently. When you look at him again, he’s staring out the passenger window. It could be the brake lights from the car in front of you, but his cheeks seem to glow just as red your own.

You let him dooze the rest of the way.

With your quiet music and Trevor’s low breathing, you find yourself on autopilot, reliving his words and chewing your lip until swells. Are you overthinking it? Could it really be that simple? Your crush on Trevor had been with you so long it had become more a casual avocation than the pining it had been. Sometimes you thought you’d worked past it - for the better. He’s your boss now, after all.

And now, this. Fuck.

You’re surprised when you find yourself pulling onto Trevor’s street. You shake his shoulder gently, “Where’re we at?”

He rubs the sleep from his face, answering you through a yawn, “Uh, it’s right up here on the left.”

You pull up outside his place, familiar from the time or two you’d visited for game nights. You leave the engine running.

“Well, goddamn, were you right about me not driving home, huh?” Trevor unbuckles himself and gathers his things in his lap. He’s smiling at you, cheeky again.

You hum in mock contemplation. “I’d say you would have been a goner around about the North Loop.”

“Hey now, I would have gotten further than that.”

“Dead meat either way. You were out like a light.” You’re smug, and you can’t help it, “Good thing I’m a good person.”

He opens his door, “You’re an amazing person, actually.” And he’s out on the street and coming around the back of your car before you can get a word in. You’ve barely closed the shocked little ‘o’ on your lips when he’s tapping your window. Cheeks still pink, you wind it down for him.

“An actual saint,” he continues, “I owe you one. Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“My pleasure. The pictures I may have snapped on the way make it all worth it,” you tease. “Very cute.”

He cringes, “Yikes. Did I drool?”

“Just a little.” You grin and lean towards him, against your door.

“How charming of me.” He runs his hand through his hair, a habit you could never look away from. His tired eyes catch the warmth of the streetlight, and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His breath clouded by the frost about his head make you think of a halo - you smile at him softly.

“What?” His smile is nervous.

You almost don’t say it. Instead, you steel yourself, swallow what feels like your heart in your throat, and say brightly, “You’re the prettiest passenger I’ve ever had.”

Trevor’s surprise melts to something softer as he looks at the ground, then back to you, “You’re a dork.” It’s that dopey smile again.

You give an exaggerated shrug, “Yeah, but I’m right, so…”

He laughs. He’s shivering now, even in his coat, and it’s well past eight thirty. You’re about to say goodnight when he speaks.

“Do you want to get lunch together tomorrow?”

“I, uh - like, lunch lunch?”

“Like a date, yeah, if you want.”

Your heart’s in your throat again, beating ten million miles an hour, but somehow you manage to get “I’d love to,” around it.

Trevor laughs with what sounds like a little touch of relief, “That’s that, then.”

“Sure is,” you smile, thankful that you at least sound like you’re not losing your mind. “Hey, go get some sleep. You need it bad”

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He runs his hand through his hair once more before shoving it back in his pocket and stepping back onto the curb, “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Back at you!”

You watch him turn and make his way across his front yard. He gets halfway before he stops and turns back, shaking his head.

“You alright?” you call.

“I forgot something.”

You look over your shoulder at your passenger seat, which is empty. “Trev, I think you’ve -”

You turn to lean out your window to him again, but Trevor’s already there, taking your face in his hands and kissing you squarely on the lips. In the moment it takes you to process what’s happening, you feel him start to pull away. Before he can, you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, and place the other on his shoulder, anchoring him right where you need him. You feel his smile against your own and every part of you is humming. You deepen the kiss, until you feel his tongue swipe gently at your bottom lip, and you want to, you so badly want to open your mouth to Trevor, but now’s not the time, so you don’t. You pull yourself away to look up at him. “Was that it?”

He’s breathless and flushed and starry-eyed, a mirror image of yourself. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “That was it.” He strokes your cheek before he takes his hands from your face, and you do the same. For moment, all either of you can do is stare at each other, short of breath and beaming. Trevor takes a step back onto the curb, but his gaze doesn’t leave your face, your dopey smile. “Night, Y/N.”

“Have a good sleep, Trev.”

[xfilescat]

unbroken (steve harrington x reader)

word count: juuust shy of 2k

warnings: angst, fluff, language! i swear, you guys: in real life i’m SO prim and proper, but for some reason i curse like a frickin’ sailor when i write lmao

preview: “‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to feel like regular people again?’

‘I don’t know. But I do know one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I know that I love you, and I’ll always do everything I can to make you feel safe.’”

A/N: hi friends!!! this is just a little one-shot thingy (set some time after the end of season 2) that i randomly thought of whilst in the middle of writing something else, so i took a break and jotted this down. is jotted the past tense of jot? idk. anyway, sorry this is so short!!! also FORGIVE ME if i sound completely clueless about guns (there’s one mentioned in here) bc i’m very anti-gun (we need gun control NOW) so I don’t know anything about them. had to google “how do guns work? i’m a writer” and now the nsa is probably watching me. it’s fine! nsa, if you’re reading this, i’m literally just a clueless teenage writer. oh and enjoy my story! :) lol what if while i was writing this, the gov’t just broke down my door and took me away? that would be so

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” You’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, your fingers shaking as you struggle to wrangle your hair into a tight french braid. You’ve got the handset of your phone jammed between your ear and your shoulder. It’s ringing, ringing, ringing. “Pick up the goddamn phone, Harrington,” you whisper through your teeth. You wait, but you hear nothing. Nothing but more fucking ringing. You finally finish your braid and tie it off, and then you grab the phone and slam it as hard as you can back onto the receiver.

Because of all of the crazy, unbelievable, and traumatizing shit you’ve been through, you and your boyfriend Steve have made each other an unbreakable promise: you call each other every night, no exceptions. No. Exceptions. Before this deal was brokered, you would both lie awake every night worried that the other was in danger, or hurt, or worse. Some might say you two were paranoid. Well, some haven’t been to hell and back. Some haven’t been attacked by literal monsters. Some haven’t watched the person they love almost die—multiple times. It’s not paranoia if the danger is real, so the nightly calls help you both sleep better. You can’t possibly go to bed in peace without hearing Steve’s voice. This is the first night in eight months that he hasn’t answered you on the first ring. So, you think to yourself, you’re going to his house right now. And you’re going to be prepared.

Irrational. Irrational. Irresponsible and irrational. That’s all you can think as you run from your bedroom to your basement, but your brain can’t seem to stop your feet from carrying you directly to your father’s safe under the stairs. You know the code. “For emergencies,” your dad had said when he gave it to you (right after the news about Will Byers’ disappearance spread through town). It’s your mother’s birthday. You’re so keyed up that it takes you four tries to get it open, but once you’re in, you grab the .45 without hesitation. It feels cold, foreign, and wrong in your hand. Good, you think. You would’ve been far more unnerved if it’d felt right.

There’s a glaring flaw in your plan: you don’t know how to shoot a gun. Shoving the pistol into the pocket of your jacket, you speed back to your bedroom (taking great care not to wake your sleeping parents), launch yourself at the phone, and hurriedly dial your best friend’s number. Her dad’s a cop and you know for a fact she’s been to the shooting range with him once or twice. She picks up instantly. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” You take a deep breath and force a smile that you hope she’ll be able to hear through the phone.

“Heyyy, Grace! So, I’m writing a short story and I have a question for you.”

“Shoot!” You cringe at her remarkably apropos word choice.

“Can you… can you explain how to use a gun? One of my characters uses one and, uh, you know me: total perfectionist. Gotta make my work accurate!”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. You tap your foot anxiously, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:06, four minutes since you last called Steve. A lot of shit can go down in four minutes. Your head starts to spin. She finally responds.

“This is for a short story?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of gun is it? In your story, I mean.”

“It’s a .45.”

She sighs heavily. “There’s a little lever thing on the grip. That’s the safety. Switch it down, aim, and pull the trigger.”

You know she’s suspicious. She doesn’t know anything about what you and the others went through, but she knows you’ve suddenly lost the ability to go anywhere by yourself, you haven’t turned off the lights in your room since last November, and you jump whenever someone shuts their locker a little too hard. She’s probably very scared, and you feel sick with guilt. You can’t think about that right now, though. All you can think about is Steve.

“Gracie, I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting. You know you’re a terrible liar, Y/N/N. Whatever the hell you’re doing, you better be careful.”

“I will be. Don’t worry.”

You hang up, frantically leap to your feet, and grab the first pair of shoes that you see (actually, you just grab the first two shoes you see, which is how you ended up in one black boot and one brown one). You slide open your bedroom window. It’s pitch dark and raining hard outside, so that should make the climb down the drainpipe a whole lot more interesting. Luckily, you make it to the ground with minimal injuries. You rush to your car and reach into your pocket for your— “FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!” You whisper-scream as you realize your pocket contains nothing but your dad’s gun. Suddenly, you remember where your keys are: locked in the fucking car. You did it this afternoon when you got home from school and promptly forgot about it. You absolute IDIOT.

Well, you think to yourself with a humorless chuckle, desperate times call for… throwing a rock through your window. After a quick search, you lift up a sizable stone from the street and lob it as hard as you can at your passenger window. It shatters with an ear-splitting crash. You glance up at your parents’ bedroom window to make sure they didn’t hear, and breathe out in relief when you see that the light’s still off. They’re gonna kill you when they find out, but at this moment, you couldn’t care less. You reach into the car to open the door from the inside, and in your haste, you slice open your forearm on a jagged piece of glass. “God-FUCKING-damn it,” you screech, feeling faint as you watch your jacket sleeve turn dark red. Great! Just great.

Shaking your head, you quickly brush the window shards off the passenger seat, climb inside, and clamber over to the steering wheel. Jamming the keys into the ignition, you stomp on the gas and speed off down the street. Your goal is to cram the fifteen minute drive to Steve’s house into a mere five minutes. You hope that neither the blood loss nor the anxious tears in your eyes ruin that plan.

You’re there in seven minutes. You pull into the driveway and slam hard on the brakes, tires screeching as you come to a jolting halt. Immediately, you pull the gun out of your pocket, stumble out of the car, and run up to the house—oh my god, why are all the lights off?—without bothering to shut off your car’s engine or even close the door. When you reach Steve’s front door, you knock about a million times. Your mind is jumping to horrific conclusions and you’re powerless to stop it. You hold your breath when you hear movement inside. You hold your father’s pistol tighter, going over Grace’s instructions in your head just in case: turn safety off, aim, pull trigger.

Fortunately, you don’t need to use any of that information because your boyfriend opens the door a moment later, his car keys in his hand and a worried look on his face. “Steve,” you choke out, breathing a shuddering sigh of relief. He looks you up and down, eyes widening in concern when he sees the gun in your shaking hand, the blood soaking through your sleeve, and the fact that you’re drenched with rainwater. He knows you well enough to know exactly why you’re here. “Y/N, baby, oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t call. This storm’s knocked out all the phone lines and the power on my street. I was just about to drive over to your place.” You don’t say anything. You just drop the gun and throw your arms around him. He pulls you close without hesitation. “Are you okay?” You nod into his chest, mumbling, “I am now.”

He leans back just enough to look into your eyes, leaving his arms around your waist. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re still crying, then?”

“I’m not crying,” you sob.

He breathes a laugh, sitting down on the front step and gently pulling you down with him. You’ve started shivering, and he notices. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he says softly before he sprints into the house. He returns in seconds with that thick wool blanket that’s always draped over the back of his living room sofa. He knows it’s your favorite. He drapes it over your shoulders and sits back down next to you. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Y/N/N.”

He wraps his arm around you and you lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I hate living like this,” you whisper. “I hate that this happened to us. I just want to go back to normal. This is—this is too hard.” He tenses. “By ‘this,’ do you mean us? Do you… not want to be together anymore?” You remember that conversation you had a few months ago about how bad Nancy messed him up, how he doubts himself as a boyfriend, how he has a debilitating fear of you not loving him. You sit up straight and tenderly place your hands on either side of his face, staring deep into his eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be with you, Steve. I love you so much. This isn’t about my feelings for you at all—those will never change.”

Steve nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry. I know you love me, I do, and I love you, but I just—” He starts to ramble, so you gently interrupt. “No, it’s okay! God, you’re so sweet. You don’t have anything to apologize for. I know you, I care about you so much, and I’m not going anywhere. Loving you isn’t the thing that’s hard.” You look down. “It’s—it’s living in constant fear that I’m gonna lose you.” Your voice breaks, and he pulls you back into his arms. “Hey, shh. Look at me. Nobody’s losing anybody, okay?” He pauses to kiss you again, slowly and sweetly this time. “I’m not going anywhere, either. Everything that happened, all of the bad stuff, it’s all over. Everybody’s okay. We’re all safe.” You sigh deeply, sinking into his warmth. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to feel like regular people again?”

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I know that I love you, and I’ll always do everything I can to make you feel safe.”

You hug him tighter, and he pulls you onto his lap. You don’t know if he’s right about everything being over, but you know that you’ve never felt safer than you do right here in his arms. After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, he looks down at you. “You wanna stay over tonight? I could take a look at your arm and try to patch it up. Plus, you’re already out of your house.” You smile brightly. “Of course. But no funny business, Harrington. I’ve just had a very rough night.” He sighs in mock-disappointment. “Well, shit! There go my plans.” You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder once more. Another comfortable silence ensues before he speaks up again. “You’re wearing two different shoes.”

“I know.”

“Your car’s still running. And did you… did you smash the window?”

“I know. And yes.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that to me later. Is that how you hurt yourself?”

“I will. And yes.”

“You’re crazy. I love you. Also, you missed a whole section of your hair when you were braiding it.”

“Alright, watch it, Harrington.”

[themaninflannel]

Angst day fic

Summary: Dean finds a case and takes Sam to go and fight it, but doesn’t tell his friend Y/N. she takes matters into her own hands to find the man she loves.

Characters: dean x reader, Sam x Eileen, Platonic!reader x Eileen, Cas

Warnings: lots of swearing and drinking, torture(not very graphic), canon-typical violence

word count: ~4k

A/N: hey guys! this is my contribution to angst day! i dont know how i feel about it so feedback would be much apreiciated! also its my first fic thats over 2k words yay me!

I had fucked up. I knew it. He knew it. Hell, even Sam knew it. 

I don’t know what made me say it. It wasn’t a new thought to me, I had always known, but what possessed me to say the actual words to him (and in such a way??) was beyond me.

When those words left my mouth i knew i had forever changed what we had.

Dean Winchester had found a prophecy and of course like the idiot I knew him to be he went and tried to handle the whole thing on his own. Needless to say, he landed us all in a pretty shitty situation. We had angels after us, not really what ya want on what was supposed to be a chill week post-apocalypse (but who were we kidding that wasn’t gonna happen).

Dean came rushing into the bunker at God knows what hour in the fucking morning shouting about the warding, waking Sam and I from our semi-peaceful slumbers.

“Fuck! FUCK! Where is the goddamn holy oil when you need it!” He said to himself as he tore apart our store rooms.

“Ok, Dean. What the hell is happening? Why the hell are you freaking out?” I sleepily scolded when I walked into the room.

“Angels.” Was the only response I got.

“Well, yeah, I kinda assumed with the holy oil and all,” I snapped.

“Its-there was a-I fucked up,” He finally admitted.

“What did you do?” Asked Sam from his spot in the doorway.

“Prophecy. Pissed some angels off,” He explained in half-sentences while still frantically searching. If whatever he did scared even him we were in big trouble.

“That’s helpful.” Sam snarked as he walked out of the room.

“Ok, look, D. Whatever it is we can figure it out,” I said softly, kneeling next to him.

“Not this time.” I had never heard him sound so defeated.

“Dea- Dean! will you stop and listen to me? Come on, of course, we’ll fight this. No matter what.” I knelt down and grabbed his shoulders making him look at me.

“No. This is my war. You and Sam need to stay away.” I fell back on my heels and threw my arms up.

“Holy shit, I am in love with an idiot! you really think that Sam and i will let you go off on your own and get yourself killed??” I had said it before I even realized. It just slipped out.

“I’m sorry? You’re what?!” He sounded shocked. I mean, he had a reason to be, we had only ever been friends. I mean it’s not every day your best friend say something like I did.

“It doesn't matter, what matters is that we’re not leaving you to do this on your own.” With that, I stood up and tried to walk out of the room with as much dignity as i could. “I’m going to bed, we’ll deal with the angels in the morning,” I called over my shoulder before I left earshot.

I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling, my head just playing that conversation over and over until I finally fell asleep. I can’t believe I actually said that to him. And what the hell are we gonna do about the angels? And why are they pissed in the first place? Oh, tomorrow is gonna be just fantastic.

I woke up around noon the next day dreading what was gonna happen when I saw Dean. When I finally got the balls to get up and go downstairs I threw on my favorite flannel and began my hunt for caffeine. 

“Who drank all the goddamn coffee?!” I shouted out of the kitchen. When no one answered I went to go see what was up. I looked around the entire bunker and didn’t find them. I pulled out my phone and instinctually started to put in Deans number before stopping myself knowing that wasn’t something I wanted to deal with yet. Instead, I called Sam. And got his viocemail.

“Hey? Umm.. I don’t know where you guys went but please call me back soon. If you’re hunting/running from something you better tell me where the hell you are so I can come and save your sorry asses.” I paused and took a breath, “And if you idiots are dealing with our angel issue without me I’m going to kill you. Like, you will need Chuck to put you back together after I’m done with you. Call me back.” I slammed the phone down on the war room table. “Fuck!”

I spent the rest of the day fuming that they left me and doing all of the things they didn’t like me doing. I left all the dishes in the sink, I revved all the engines in the garage, I rearranged the books in the library- in the proper way i might add- and just generally screwed around. I finally crashed on the couch at like 2 am. I woke up the next morning expecting to have a call from one of the boys but my phone screen was still ominously empty. 

Two days later I still hadn’t heard anything from them despite calling and calling and I was starting to get really worried, so I did the only think I could think of: I called in reinforcements.

“Cas? Yeah, hi its Y/N, I was just calling to see if you’ve heard from the boys at all in the last few days?…..You haven’t? Ok, thanks…..Yeah, I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything…Thanks again, bye Cas,” Next I tried Eileen.

“Hey Eileen, have you heard from Sam at all in the last few days?” I signed through my webcam.

“No, what’s up? Is he ok?” she asked.

“No idea, a few days ago I woke up and they were both gone and they’re not answering any of my calls.” 

“I’m like a state away if you want me to swing by and help you look for them?” I must look as worried as I feel for her to offer.

“That would be great, and you know there’s always a bed for you here.” After hanging up with Eileen I felt a little better, at least I wasn’t on my own with this anymore. The next step was to track their phones, if they haven’t turned them off already that is. 

When Eileen got there we indulged in true Winchester fashion and got really fucking drunk. Don’t get me wrong, we were doing our best but coming up empty. Therefore, booze. Once we were good and wasted we got to talking, in a way that only two people that share the same worries can.

“I just don’t want them….Dean…to have gone into this without a plan. Or back up! And I- I can’t leave things with us they way they were. I don’t know why I did it but,” I started to talk really fast and skimp a little on my signing, “I need him to talk to me again,”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I can’t follow when you talk that fast.” She reminded me before continuing, ”But I’m sure they will be ok. They’re smart. Whatever it is, they can handle it.”

“Yeah sure, yours is smart. Dean? he’s reckless.”

“What do you mean ‘mine’?” She sat up so she could see my hands better.

“Ya know? Sam. Don’t you guys have something going on?” I questioned. I could tell Sam had a thing for her and now I just had to find out if it was reciprocated. If I couldn’t have my Winchester, the least I could do was help a friend get hers.

“What? No. I mean…he’s tall and strong.. and smart..and kind..but no! We’re just friends. He wouldn’t want to hook up with the Deaf girl anyway,” She sounded sad.

“Bull. why do you think I can sign? He made me study with him every night so he could learn your language and make sure you never felt left out. And you liiike him! You so do!” I scooched closer to her so we could really talk.

“Really? But why…?”

“Because he is head over heels, girl!”

“Fuck. We gotta find those dumb asses.”

“No shit. But why the new energy?”

“So that I can climb that mountain,” That made me laugh, “and you can work out your issues with Dean.” She finished as she got up and started to walk away.

“Wait! Hold up! Where are you going?” I called after her before remembering that that wouldn’t do any good cause she couldn’t hear me. So I just followed her to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” She asked searching cabinets.

“Pantry. Why are you making coffee?”

“So that we can sober up and keep searching for our boys.” She said matter of factly. 

“Our boys?” I questioned.

“Yeah. I’m not the only one who has a Winchester’s heart.” She turned to me.

“No.” I shook my head, “You should have seen his face when I said I loved him. That was not the face of someone who felt the same.” 

“I think that’s bullshit. You were literally wearing his flannel when you called me. You are the only other person he lets drive the Impala. You guys are aggressively domestic. I don’t know why he made that face but he definitely has feelings for you too. We’ll just have to figure it out when we find them.”

“Any ideas? So far, I’m thinking we should call Cas, see if he can find them.”

“Sounds good to me,” She said before chugging her coffee and shouting for Cas.

“Yes?” Cas said as he appeared behind me making me jump, I may be a badass hunter but I don’t have nerves of steel.

“We need you to look for the boys. We tracking their phones but it didn’t work,” I explained.

“Ok let me see if I can sense them,” He stood there with his eyes closed for a minute before speaking again, “I can’t feel them they must be warded from me.”

“Makes sense, Dean said he was having angel trouble before they left, Crap!” We all did as much research as we could on special angel types and kelp asking Cas about things that could piss of the angels.

“Wait!” I exclaimed pulling my head out from my book, “A few months back I borrowed Dean’s car to go on a solo hunt and they found me, Dean put a tracker on the Impala. If I can find the tracker I can find them. If its still on the car anyway.” I excitedly pulled out my laptop and started typing away. 

Almost an hour passed before I triumphantly slammed my computer shut.

“I did it! I know where the car is!” We all got up to go get our stuff together and Eileen pulled me into a hug. 

“Thank you. I knew you could do it,” She whispered into my hair.

“Let’s go get our boys!” I signed once she pulled away and could see my hands again.

“Our boys, huh? Finally coming around to my way of thought?” She teased.

“Shut up, go get your crap together we gotta go.” I jokingly shoved her away.

Cas had said he couldn’t get involved with the angels but to call him if someone really needed healing so, for now, it was just the two of us. We loaded our shit into the back of the fastest car in the garage and sped off on our hunt for the men we loved.  

About a million miles later we finally got to the place they were supposed to be. I slowed the car as we passed what looked like an abandoned motel, I pulled the car into the parking lot searching for that familiar black beauty of a car. We finally found the car but not its owners.

Once we checked in the office and found out that it was indeed abandoned we went and checked its entry log.

“Agent Halen and Agent Nicks. That’s them,” i said confidently.

“how do you know?” Eileen asked.

“I know them.” 

We snuck over to the room, guns at the ready. After knocking on the door and getting no response Eileen kicked down the door. What we saw in the room is not what we were expecting. Both of the boys were gone, but it didn’t look like there had been a struggle. I poked my head into the bathroom and found a very knocked out person laying in the tub. I waved Eileen over and we dragged the man into a chair and made sure he wasn’t going anywhere before we threw cold water on his face and slapped him so he would wake up.

“Who are you?” I questioned when he was conscious again.

“Who I am is of no importance. What I am is what you should worry about, girl,”

“Oh joy. Another smartass creature who thinks he’s better just cause he’s a guy.” I silently signed to Eileen. “Ok. I’ll bite. What are ya?” I said to the man.

“Oh darlin’, I’m an angel. I’m everything you’ve ever wished for-” his voice got all syrupy sweet

“Don’t try it.” I cut him off “I recognize angel hypnosis when I hear it. This isn’t my first rodeo. Now, you are going to tell me what happened to the Winchesters. And if you cooperate I might just make your death as painless as I can.” I threatened, pulling an angel blade from its sheath on my thigh.

“I don’t know where your boyfriend is. I was busy being knocked out when they were taken.” He was clearly lying, angels don’t get knocked out. Meaning he wanted to be found.

“Who took them, “ Eileen asked.

“Now, why would I tell you that? And miss all the fun when you realize you’re too late! They’re probably dead by now anyway,” I sliced his cheek with the blade allowing the light to break through his skin.

“Tell us who has them or I will make this as painful and slow as I can. Now I’m no Alistair but I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” I leaned in real close and spit in his face.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. By now your boys are dead and the angels have exactly what they need,”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?” Eileen questioned.

“You girls really don’t know anything, do you? Oh, it’s not any fun this way. Fine. The hot-blooded gentlemen you so desire were being held in the penthouse apartment of the one nice building in this hick ville.”

“Thank you, we appreciate your cooperation,” I said before I stabbed him in the face.

“God, he was a dick, but at least now we know where to start,” Eileen said.

We got back into the car and drove around until we found the place we were looking for. the one fancy building in the whole town. we grabbed all the guns we could carry and a few extra angle blades in case the boys lost theirs and went in.

We went in the back entrance not knowing who or what might be in the lobby, we got to the stairs before anyone noticed our presence, by the time they had caught up to us we had already gotten half way up to the penthouse.

I felt something grab at my ankle and kicked, hard, sending myself off balance. Eileen and I fought as hard as we could to get away from the angels but we were no match for the six angels that had found us. They took us and dragged us up to where the boys were being kept, on the way up they took all of our weapons, or at least they thought they did they missed the blade I hid in my cleavage. We were blindfolded when they took us and tied us to the ceiling.

When the blindfolds were taken off I could see that we were in what appeared to be the love suite, complete with heart-shaped bed. I looked around, I was one of six victims, the boys were down the line a little ways but they looked to be alive.

“Who are you, ladies? And why have you come?” A woman in what looked to be a hookers outfit approached us.

“You have something of ours.” Eileen spat.

“And we’re here to take it back, bitch,” I shouted. I saw sams head perk at the sound of Eileen’s voice and smiled a little knowing they would be happy if we could get through this.

“What the hell are you smiling at?” The woman asked me, grabbing my face.

“I just know that we are gonna get out. Ya know why? Because we have a motivation you clearly don’t understand. Pure human love. And also you don’t know how to tie a knot!” I pulled my arm down and punched her in the jaw. I pulled out the angel blade I had hidden and killed her. I cut everyone down before the rest of the angels came in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked when he took off his blindfold.

“Saving your ass apparently. Now help me kill the rest of these douches,” I answered, not looking at him. 

Between the four of us, we managed to kill all the angels and save the civilians. As I slid the blade out of the last I looked over at Eileen. She marched right over to Sam and pulled him down into a kiss. He wrapped his huge arms and kissed her back with everything he had. I was very proud of Eileen. This did, however, leave the car arrangements up in the air and somehow it was decided that I would ride with Dean and Eileen would drive my car with Sam. Great. An 8-hour drive with Dean. That’s gonna be real fun. 

The first few hours of the drive were silent save for Deans cassette tapes. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ya know, normal people say thank you when someone saves them from getting killed by psychopathic angels,” I snapped at him over the music. He turned it down but didn’t say anything for a minute.

“Is that coming from a hunter or someone that’s in love with me?” 

“Let’s forget I said that ok? For now, let’s just be happy you forgot to turn off the tracker on Baby,” I said. I wasn’t ready to deal with the feelings part, not while he still seemed so pissed. I was just so relieved that he was ok.

“Is that how you found us? And why was Eileen there?”

“You didn’t answer your phone for days, I called her to see if she had heard from Sam, needless to say, she hadn’t and so she decided to come and help me find yall,” the rest of the car ride was done in silence. When we got back to the bunker we split and went our separate ways, I went up and crashed, I didn’t pay attention to where Dean went.

In the morning I went down to the kitchen for coffee like normal and was met with everyone talking about the night before.

“Hey, anyone wanna fill me in?” I asked with a mug held at my chest, when I started talking Dean walked out of the room.

“Dean found a prophecy about the end of the world and the angels were after it, they were a doomsday cult-like branch-”

“So like extra douchy,” Eileen cut same off. I was happy to see them being cute and cuddly.

“Exactly, well anyway, they wanted the prophecy but we had it…so…yeah,” 

“Good thing they’re all dead now,” I commented as I walked out of the room.

The day went on as normal, or as normal as it could be with Dean blatantly ignoring me or walking out every time we were in the same room. That went on for days before I decided I needed to get out of my head.

“Hey, Eileen. Wanna go shoot at the range downstairs? I need to not think for a little while,” She and I went down and had target practice for a while and it really did help. Finally, I was done and headed back to my room. But on my way, Sam grabbed my arm and dragged me to one of the spare rooms. When he opened the door a very frustrated looking Dean was standing there.

“What the hell is this, man?” Dean asked.

“Putting you two together in the car didn’t work so now we’re putting you I here until you figure your shit out. I’m don’t watching you guys be weird,” Sam said closing the door after him. I groaned when I heard the lock click into place as it shut and I knew we were stuck.

“Why are you upset at this? You get the good end of the deal.” Dean was being such an ass lately.

“Since when do you have an issue with people being attracted to you?” I snapped back at him. I didn’t feel like feeling with his bs attitude anymore.

“Why would you be attracted to me. Why would you joke about it? You said it yourself; I’m an ass, I’m an idiot, I’m reckless. What’s so appealing about that?” He seemed genuinely upset.

“You think it was all a joke? Yeah, I told my best friend that I was in love with him cause I thought it would be soo funny to make things weird between us. Haha. fucking hilarious.”

“You’re a nice girl, you could do so much better than me. You know that. So why would you go for me?” He sounded almost defeated.

“Some things you don’t get to choose. You didn’t choose to be raised into the hunter’s life. I didn’t choose to have feelings for my friend. Some things are out of our control.” While I was taking I was slowly walking toward him.

“It would have been better if I hadn’t been born into this. So many people would still be alive.” He turned his back on me but not before I saw his emerald eyes start to swim.

“So many more people would be dead if you hadn’t been there to save their lives. To stop the apocalypse. To kill Hitler. You are a hero. And that’s what I fell in love with. Because even when you make stupid decisions it’s because you care so much. You are a good man. And that’s what I fell for.” I put my hand on his shoulder and slowly walked around him so that I was standing in front of him with one hand on his chest and the other wiping away his tears.

“Do you really love me?” He asked. His voice so low I almost couldn’t hear him. I nodded in response.

“Every piece,” I answered in the same quiet voice. He closed the small distance between us and pulled me into a tight hug, wrapped in is arms.

“Thank God,” he said into the top of my head. His voice still low and gravely from emotion.

I could tell that I was where I belonged. And I would stay there as long as he needed me to.

[superprincesspea]

The Honey House, Chapter 27

Fight or Flight

MASTERLIST

Rae slid her Glock from its holster. She knew Negan wouldn’t be in this barn just like she knew she wouldn’t shoot him if he was but she liked the weight of it in her hand. So with a racing heart and a fistful of pistol Rae crept past the bales of hay, her eyes scanning any potential hiding spaces until she was certain, Negan was gone.

Gone. Bile rouse in her throat as she turned around on autopilot, one foot stretching out in front of the other until she was sprinting from the barn, calling Tim’s name. She ran around the corner blind, colliding with Zuzu who was happily zipping around on a scooter that Tim had found before Jacob or Negan had ever existed.

“I told you to stay inside!” Rae scolded, her tone harsh with frustration that was trying to find an outlet.

One large tear rolled down Zuzu’s cheek, paving the way for a waterfall of followers and Rae felt more than a pang of regret as she abandoned her little niece and ran towards the front gate. How could she have let Negan escape? How could she have been so careless? She couldn’t even control a child so how had she expected to control a man like Negan?

“What’s going on?” Carly called, shifting her baby from one hip to the other, her eyes searching out Zuzu like a good Mother would.

“Negan’s gone!” Rae choked, any control she might have had now long lost. She was afraid. She’d been too harsh and now she didn’t know what might come of it.

“Tim took him,” Caryl replied quickly, her eyes darting around Rae’s face while the words seemed to echo across every wall and weave between every blade of frosted grass.

“What?”

Carly’s face fell, her words stuttering, “he said you knew. He said you’d asked him to take care of-”

“When?” Rae interrupted, already running to the red coupe that Negan had given her.

“He put Negan in one of the cars about fifteen minutes ago.”

Rae slid into the soft leather seat, the idea of Tim’s betrayal pounding her heart to a different tune as she reached into the glove box to find the keys gone from their usual spot. She wanted to think it was a coincidence as she yelled, “someone find me the keys for the goddamn car!” But when she ran into the house, upending the contents of her dresser drawer, to grab the map of Alexandria she realised that much like Tim and Negan, it was gone.

“Fuck!” Rae shouted, her hands shaking as the drawer clattered to the floor. A million different emotions were racing in competition and when her gaze landed on the bed, the comforter pulled over to one side, climbing under the covers seemed so tempting, letting the inevitable happen would be as easy as lying down and closing her eyes.

Grandma’s voice brought her back from hopeless feelings but when Rae turned wanting to find comfort she realised Grandma sounded less frightened than she looked, her face was pale, her hand worrying an old dishcloth. “What’s happening? What haven’t you told us?”

Rae took a deep breath, a moment to gather her thoughts, “nothing. Everything is gonna be okay. I’m gonna make everything right.” She smiled, she thought she almost sounded convincing and maybe that’s all it took to be a leader, smoke and mirrors and the whatever it took to stop you crawling under the covers.

She kicked the drawer out of her way and as she walked through the door Grandma stopped her, “we’re all counting on you and we’re all here for you.”

“I know.” Rae jumped down the stairs, hurrying outside, she knew just how much everyone needed her to make the right decision. “Did you find the keys?” she asked, keeping her voice even as her people all gathered below the porch steps, their eyes wide like children. She supposed it was her own fault that Negan had escaped, she hadn’t told anyone the real stakes and in trying to protect them she’d made them useless.

Carly held her baby in front of her like a safety net, her words a whisper almost masked by the breeze, “they’re gone.”

Rae knew they would be. She knew that she’d kept them in the glove box just like the map had been kept in her drawer, the only thing she didn’t know was how long Tim had been planning this. “Okay,” she held her chin up, her shoulders straight, “nobody comes in or out of these gates except for me, I want the children inside and everyone on guard duty, do you all understand?”

“What about Negan’s men?”

“If they come here looking for Negan tell them he’s with me and he wants them to wait for him at the other farm. Do not let them inside.”

“What if you can’t bring Negan back?”

It was probably what everyone was thinking and Rae didn’t answer it. She grabbed a rifle from one of her people, walking to the gate with conviction, as if the question was a ridiculous one. When the gate opened wide enough she slipped through, running as fast as she possibly could and knowing the answer was ‘I don’t know.’ If Tim took Negan to Rick then she had no idea what would happen next except that it would change everything.  

There was another car, a spare she kept hidden across the fields for moments not unlike this one and as she ran towards it every passing moment felt like a lifetime. She worried she wouldn’t know which way to go without a map, she worried she’d be too late but more than anything part of her worried that Negan would hate her for what she did to him today.

By the time Rae had made it to the car her lungs were burning, the taste of blood filling her throat and her worries had only intensified. She grabbed the keys from the glove box, her eyes filled with unshed tears as the engine spluttered to life on her fourth attempt.

It might have been stupid, it might even have been the wrong decision but Rae had planned on freeing Negan. She’d hoped that despite everything she didn’t know about him she knew enough to know he would never truly hurt her, at least in the physical sense. Emotional was something else. If she thought about it then she’d been a fool to put even the smallest amount of stock into a man guarding her feelings, it had never worked out for her in the past so why would it be different now? Negan had made her feel special, he’d taken her away from the world for a brief snapshot of time and she was grateful for that even if it had all been a fabrication. He’d told her there would be no poetry in being with him and he’d been right.

///

Negan worked his wrists and ankles against his restraints and Timmy might have been a little dweeb but the fucker sure knew how to tie a knot leaving any attempt at brute force utterly  useless. He had nothing more than brush burn where the rope was starting to slice through the tender skin of his wrists and as he lay on the backseat of the old sedan he wondered if it was Rae who had given little Timmy the go ahead to do her dirty work. He pictured the fire in her eyes when she’d shoved the taser in his chest and chuckled despite the sticky situation. Rae had been angry enough to chop off his balls, she wouldn’t have sent him away without a farewell ‘fuck you’. No, Timmy was working alone.

Negan watched the trees whizzing past the window, row after row as he decided not to accept his fate, “I need to go to the little boys room.”

“Hold it,” Tim spat with what sounded like sadistic satisfaction.

Negan held his tongue and with as much charm as a man hog tied like roadkill could muster he crooned, “I wish I could but I know how far we are from Alexandria, Timmy boy.”

Tim ignored him, his hands at ten and two and his eyes glued to the road.

It occurred to Negan that Tim hadn’t looked at him once, hadn’t spoken unless spoken to. Perhaps he was scared, either scared of Negan or scared of what he might do if he got started. Negan knew the second feeling well, he also knew how to push the right buttons to get a reaction. “What kind of man lets another man piss himself? Unless you like that? Maybe you wanna sit in a car with the stench of my piss for the next couple of hours. Fuck, maybe I should shit myself too? How about it Timmy? You can admit it, we’re just two men shooting the fucking...” Negan laughed, “shit.”

The car slammed to a halt, Negan couldn’t stop the way he fell into the footwell just as much as he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.  

“Maybe I should just kill you right now?” Timmy spluttered, “I don’t think Rick cares if you’re alive or dead when I bring you to him.”

Shit. Negan hadn’t planned on Timmy actually growing a pair of fucking balls here. He wanted him angry, not murderous. “You’re gonna kill a man because he needs to take a piss. Now what would Rae think about that?”

Timmy smiled, “she’ll probably be glad you’re finally gone. Then she won’t have to sleep with you in exchange for whatever it is she thinks you provide.”

Negan gritted his teeth, his hands balling into tight fists, “either kill me or take me to the little boys room but let's not try to pretend she didn’t wanna fuck me because we both know that she did.”

Tim pulled a pistol from his belt, sliding the safety with his thumb before pressing the barrel to Negan’s temple, “maybe she did but not anymore. You’re nothing now, you’re pathetic and when I give you to Rick he’s gonna give us all the help we need.”

“If you think you can trust that fucker Rick Grimes then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. He’s a liar and he wouldn’t think twice about slitting your throat. Or Rae’s. So do me a fucking favour and kill me now because I don’t wanna see Rae, Grandma and Zuzu being killed in the middle of the night by that merry band of assholes.”

Tim hesitated, weighing his options before his face creased back into a snarl, “I don’t wanna hear your bullshit and if you try anything then I will kill you.”

Negan didn’t say anything. He held his tongue again and it worked. Tim pulled Negan from the car by the scruff of his neck before turning to lead the way into a clearing by the side of the road.

“You expect me to hop along like this?” Negan nodded to the rope that bound his legs. “Jesus Christ Timmy you are one inhumane motherfucker. You tie me up, shove a gun in my face and you can’t even let me walk to the john like a fucking man?”

It must have struck a chord with Timmy because no matter how tough little Timmy tried to be he was still just the dweeb that followed Rae like a lost puppy.  “Remember what I said,” Tim warned, waving the pistol in Negan’s face before he crouched on one knee, loosening the knot.

As soon as the rope was slack Negan did remember Timmy’s threat he just couldn’t care fucking less nor would he waste a golden opportunity to give little Timmy one swift knee to the face. Blood burst from his nose, his glasses hit the tarmac and it felt damned good. Negan laughed, even if he ended up being shot for his effort it was worth it to get one satisfying hit on the little prick.

Tim fell to the road, his nose pouring blood and Negan didn’t even consider stopping his attack. He had a whole boat load of pent up rage that he’d been savoring for this fucker and now he had the perfect excuse. He kicked him in the stomach and Tim rolled over with a groan, drawing his pistol in a pathetic attempt to line up a shot. Negan kicked Tim’s arm, the impact sounding out with a satisfying crunch followed by the bang of the gun, the bullet whizzing into the tree’s.

As Timmy began to scramble to his feet Negan kicked the pistol from his hand like he was kicking the football in a field goal and it flew through the air, over a short rail separating the road from a long ditch, landing in places unknown.

“You’re one dumb little fucker,” Negan couldn’t help but taunt, even with his hands literally tied behind his back he was about to kill this dweeb. He was going to stomp him down like an oversized roach and the blood lust was insatiable.

Timmy pulled a knife, it was a small thing made for gutting fish rather than men but he slashed it anyway, catching Negan’s chest in the process.

“Motherfucker,” Negan shouted as he noticed the slit that ran all the way across his leather jacket. Not deep enough to do any harm but deep enough to ruin the jacket. With his face twisted into an even angrier line Negan advanced on Timmy who’s eyes were like two saucers, his knife suddenly shaking in his hand. Tim thought better of a second attack instead sprinting towards the trees where the pistol had disappeared.

Negan chased him, no knife in a knife fight was one thing, no gun was another. He charged after Tim as hard as he could, shoulder barging him over the railing, the momentum sending them both tumbling down the side of a steep hill.

If he’d have been a cartoon character he’d have had a ring of stars twinkling a halo around his head. Instead, Negan had spots clouding his vision and he couldn't tell if he’d been out cold or just momentarily stunned as he lay still, letting his body register a list of injuries. His head was throbbing and his arms were uncomfortable under his weight but other than that he was okay.

When he rolled to his side Timmy was just lying there, motionless amongst the undergrowth and whether dead or unconscious Negan didn’t give a flying fuck.

He pulled himself to his feet, spotting a roamer clawing his way through the trees before he noticed Tim’s knife lodged in the grass. The sound of the gun firing had no doubt lured the dead and there would surely be more so he wasted no time before attempting to saw through the rope that was binding his wrists. He had barely begun when he heard the rumble of an engine.

“Shit,” he muttered, slowly standing and scanning the undergrowth for the pistol as he continued hacking away at the rope. He listened to the sound of a car door opening then slamming shut and what came next made his heart stop, the knife slipping from his fingers.

“Negan!”

It was Rae’s voice and he stood motionless in the wake of it before pulling his shit together, grabbing the knife and ducking behind the nearest tree. He couldn’t risk her capturing him again and he wasn’t going to fight if he didn’t have the advantage, if the end of the world had taught him one thing it had certainly been that. He peered around the trunk of the tree, scanning the road until he spotted her telltale red hair and the muzzle of a very large rifle.

She called his name again and he wondered for a moment why she wasn’t calling for Timmy only to decide it was because maybe she didn’t really give a crap about Timmy. The idea inched a smile across his face, maybe there really was still hope for him and Red.

One of the roamer’s was gaining on him and his hiding place was up if he didn’t want to get eaten alive so he only had one choice. “I’m here baby,” he admitted, kicking away the dead man that dived for him and finishing it with his boot when it tumbled to the ground.

“Negan?” Rae gasped and when he turned he could see her slowly climbing down the side of the hill, her rifle slung over her shoulder and her voice wary as she asked, “where’s Tim?”

Negan crept to a new hiding spot, making sure to keep Red in his line of sight “We had a fight, he’s out cold,” he said, he didn’t say the part where he might be dead, it wasn’t going to do him any favors. Instead he finished slicing through the rope, shaking it from his wrists as he watched Red finally make it to the forest floor. She crouched down, placing her fingers against Tim’s neck before shaking his shoulder and whispering his name.

“You ask Timmy to take me to Rick?” Negan prayed the sound of his voice wouldn’t give away his exact location. He was far enough away and there were enough trees to cause confusion.

Rae’s eyes darted towards him but he remained hidden, crouched behind a fallen tree. “No,” she called, standing, bringing her rifle in front of her. “I don’t trust you Negan, but I don’t trust Rick either. I know you might not believe me but I was gonna let you go, I don’t wanna be part of a war that might get my people killed.” She paused, her shoulders slumped and her voice had a broken edge, “I want you to leave and never come back, I don’t wanna see you or your people again.”

Negan wiped his hand over his face, his heart pounding, “you breaking up with me, Red?”

She held her rifle higher, her eyes searching down the scope like a trained riflewoman, “I’m not playing, Negan.”

“Neither am I, baby doll.” He rolled the knife in his hand and the snap of twigs catching his attention. He turned his head he could see more dead filtering through the trees, enough to be a problem and enough to cut a path right between himself and Rae. “You see that, Red?” he called, standing up and keeping cover away from prying green eyes.

She shifted her rifle towards the dead, her eyes darting everywhere else, “where are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. We both know I’m not coming back with you right now so you better get your ass up on that road and into your car like a good girl before you get hurt.”

She hesitated, taking several steps forward and he wanted to spank her ass for even thinking about putting it on the line, “you can try and catch me Red or you can get Timmy to safety. He’s not gonna make it without you and you haven’t got time to fuck around baby.”

Rae glanced at Tim, huffing out a sigh before throwing her rifle back on her shoulder.

“I’ll stay here while you get to safety and I want you to know, this shit ain’t over between us Rachel Honey.”

“Are you threatening me?” she demanded and he could just picture the look that would be resting on her face.

“I’m just saying, I’m not finished with you, not by a long fucking shot sweetheart.”

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