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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

Note

*calmly*

Bestie, I'm gonna need Logan to invite Alex and Lily over to Florida for a big Sargeant family Thanksgiving 🙊

Thanksgiving in the 305 || LS2 {3}

Pairing: Logan Sergeant x fem!reader Summary: You have lots to be thankful this holiday and get to share the special occasion with even more people this year. Warnings: 18+ only, implied smut, fluff, lots of fluff WC: 3.4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

Monday, 20th November 2023 You had just walked through hell and it had been an absolute nightmare. By hell, you meant Walmart during the week of Thanksgiving. With another point scored on home soil Logan’s popularity seemed to explode overnight and the shopping trip had taken longer than expected after he signed some autographs and took photos with fans. Shopping wasn’t something you enjoyed on the quietest of days but knowing the amount of food prep you needed to do only left you more stressed.

“Relax, honey,” Logan soothed as he rubbed your shoulders with a smile. “We can do this. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

You eventually made it to the checkout with two laden trolleys and Logan did all the heavy lifting of the bags into the back of his Range Rover. Unfortunately you lost more precious prep time to the traffic that swarmed the city and the stress had you wringing your hands together until Logan took one in his.

“Sweetheart, I think you might be going a little overboard.”

You looked up from the pastry you were rolling out to weave into a lattice topping for the pumpkin pie. “What? No. No, I’m not. This is perfectly acceptable.”

“There’s twice as much as last year,” Logan stated, his lips a shade of deep purple from the berries he had stolen.

“We have more guests this year - special guests too.”

Logan’s lips perked up as he laughed. “I’ll let Dalton know you think he’s not special.”

“That is not what I meant,” you gasped, only forgiving him for the joke when kissed you sweetly. “I’ve never seen your principal outside of the races, or Alex and Lily. I’m nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about. They are exactly the same outside of work.”

You chewed your lip as you nodded, hoping he wasn’t just trying to ease your worry. If he was right then you knew you would get along with them just like you had when you went to the races with Logan. You had been lucky enough to make it to most of his races after the summer break and Sooty even joined for the Triple Header rounds, but he missed out on the Vegas trip. The schedule was just too busy to have a dog in tow.

Since everyone was on the same continent, for the moment, you had invited Logan’s team mate and his team principal to join you for an early Thanksgiving. James was bringing his wife and daughter while Alex was coming with his girlfriend Lily. They had all been so supportive of Logan throughout the year that you wanted to show your appreciation before making your way to the final race in Abu Dhabi.

It was going to be the first year since being with Logan that you wouldn’t be at home on Thanksgiving but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to slack on hosting the event. If anything you were going to make it more special to make up for having it on a Tuesday.

Logan knew one thing that would help you relax while you were busy in the kitchen and after disappearing into the living room you heard the stereo system click on and Logan’s playlist filled the room. The upbeat intro to Hold On, We’re Going Home started and Logan reached you before Drake’s voice could, his hands finding your hips as he rested his chin on your shoulder and watched you work the dough.

All too soon he grew bored of just watching and his lips started to tease kisses along your neck. “You need to go for a run,” you murmured as you found your progress slowing. “I can’t concentrate with you doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, the curve of his lips on your skin giving him away.

“Distracting me.”

“But it worked, look how relaxed you are now.” His arms curled around your waist as he swayed to the music and you joined him until his hand dipped beneath your shirt and warmed the soft skin on your stomach.

“Lo…” you groaned as you pushed him back with your hips. “Behave, please.”

“Cause you’re a good girl and you know it,” he teased in your ear with the song. “You act so different around me.”

You turned in his arms with a smile that he reflected and placed your palm over his chest. “You are going to ruin Thanksgiving dinner.”

Logan looked around the kitchen, every surface full of the food you just had to make final touches on in the morning. There was already more than enough to feed an army. “I don’t think you have to worry about dinner.” He reached behind you and placed a spare cover over the unfinished pie before pulling you flush against him. “And the pie can wait an hour.”

“An hour? I was thinking 10 minutes max,” you giggled as he grabbed your hips and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist naturally.

“Is that a challenge?” he dared as he carried you out of the kitchen. “I don’t mind spending the rest of the day proving you wrong, sweetheart.”

“Yes, wait, no, any other time, baby, but not today.”

Tuesday, 21st November 2023 - Thanksgiving Dinner You had never been happier that Logan had insisted on buying a house much larger than anything the two of you needed. Built for a large family, the kitchen had two full sized ovens and both were currently in use. The giant turkey filled one oven on its own and the other had its racks full of different dishes to keep them hot.

The other great thing about the home was that the stacker doors folded back in the living room to give a massive open space that flowed out into the patio and pool. You needed all that space with the guests that had arrived. Logan’s parents had come first. Mallika had insisted on arriving early so she could help you with the fresh food that couldn’t be pre-cooked and Michael had been ordered to help Logan stock the bar.

Next to arrive had been Dalton, Logan’s older brother, who came with a very happy Sooty after dog-sitting him while you were in Las Vegas. You had rushed out of the kitchen as soon as you heard his excited bark and grappled him into a tight cuddle before Logan wrapped his arms around you both.

“Hi, my baby,” you cooed as you scratched Sooty’s fur and kissed the top of his head. “Mommy missed you. You’re looking skinny, did uncle Dalt not feed you?” You rose to your feet at the laugh and greeted Dalton with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“I would say anytime but he stole an Angus steak from my plate, twice.”

“Why do you think I came out here?” you said with a shake of your head. “There is no way I am letting him anywhere near the kitchen. Lo?”

“On it, honey,” he chuckled. “Come on, Soot, let's go play frisbee. You in, bro?”

You watched the brothers jog out to the lawn and separate to opposite ends and it wasn’t long before Michael joined his sons too.

It was another two Sargeant boys that came through the door with Logan’s aunt following with apologies for her son's lack of manners for skipping the doorbell. You waved the apology away as you gave her a hug. “It’s fine, Debbie. My mother always said doorbells are for salesmen and strangers, not family.”

“Your mother is a good woman,” Harry said as he came in with a large bouquet of flowers for you and a kiss. “You are more and more like her every day.”

You grinned at the compliment and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you.”

When you first met Harry you had felt intimidated by the billionaire but you had quickly realised he was a kind, down-to-earth man who put family values first. It was one of the reasons he sponsored Logan and helped get him into Formula racing. He believed if he had the resources to help, then he had the responsibility to help. It was the same with Dalton’s NASCAR career.

The next arrival did use the doorbell and Sooty came inside to growl at the uncommon sound until you told him to stop being silly. Once the door was opened he recognised it was Alex and Lily on the doorstep and the protective nature changed to the playful wag of his tail. Sooty enjoyed the attention he got from the animal-loving couple for a moment before another duo stole his attention and he leapt off the porch to race down the driveway.

“Sorry, he saw my parents,” you said as you invited them inside and to the bar. “Now, Logan’s the mixologist in the house so if you want something more than a beer, a wine or whiskey neat then he’s your man.”

Once Lily had a glass of riesling and Alex an IPA beer, you made the introductions to the few members of his family they hadn’t met. Most of them had crossed paths at least once during the three US based Grand Prix’s this season so it was only Harry’s teenage boys and your parents who needed naming.

“I found some wanderers in your driveway,” your mother joked as she stepped into your line of vision and waved at the quickly growing Vowles family. “Oscar looks different, more mature.”

You looked at Logan’s old teammate who was just walking through the door and chuckled when he took his shoes off, the only one that ever did when he went inside other people's homes. “That’s what a year will do to a man,” you replied. “I don’t think you’ve seen him since last Thanksgiving, mom.”

“Not true, I saw him at Logan’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay, my bad, it's only been 11 months then,” you said with a laugh as you went to greet him and Logan’s team principal.

“She is absolutely adorable,” you gushed over the newborn in James’ arms. “I swear she’s grown and I only saw her a few days ago!”

“She’s put on another ounce since then,” the proud father said before holding her out to you. “Go on, I know this is what you’re really after.”

“I was just coming over to see if you needed a drink,” you lied as you reached for her, “but I’m not going to turn down baby snuggles.”

Logan’s eyes found you from across the room where he was talking with Alex and Oscar and he lost track of the conversation at the sight of you. The image of you holding a baby so comfortably made something crack in his chest and he knew you would be a natural when it came to motherhood, he just had to be patient for a few more years. You didn’t even notice his lingering stare as you pressed your nose to her soft hair and inhaled the new baby scent before cradling her closer.

“You know you are not getting her back until you leave,” you warned James, and he just smiled knowingly.

“I had a feeling that would be the case. Now Rachel and I can enjoy a few hours of free babysitting.”

“Absolutely anytime, any place. Go on, have a drink and chill out, or even a nap if you need. There’s plenty of guest rooms down the hall and a nursery too so you have nothing to worry about.”

“A nursery? Is there something Logan hasn’t told me?” he asked curiously.

You laughed as you shook your head. “Not yet, James. The house was furnished for a family sale when we bought it and one of the rooms was set up to be a nursery. We just never renovated it.”

“You two look really happy,” Alex broke through Logan’s wandering thoughts and he blinked twice before he snapped out of the moment.

“We are. She loves this, having a full house, lots of noise and company.” Logan smiled into his bottle as he tipped the cold beer back and watched as you flitted around the room topping up drinks and chatting with his family all the while managing to cradle his boss's baby safely. “Best thing I did was ask her to come with me. Makes the good days better and the bad ones easier, you know?”

Alex nodded sincerely and cast his eyes to Lily who was laughing at something Dalton said to her about his latest round of golf. Alex knew exactly what Logan meant.

Logan had always been open about wanting children, even more so when he was drunk, and he was always making plans for the future. He hoped to stay in F1 for as long as possible and he was especially happy that he had signed with Williams for another year, but after that he thought about moving into endurance racing as it was a less intensive schedule. With less commitments to work he would have more time to focus on starting a family, so you waited patiently and supported him in his choices after all the hard work you had seen him put in.

You continued on your way around the guests, oblivious to the way Logan’s eyes followed you the entire time. Eventually you reluctantly passed the sleeping babe over to your boyfriend knowing he would want to have some time with her too and the next part you needed two hands for. “Dinner is almost ready, if you want to start rounding everyone up into the dining room I’ll bring in the turkey.”

“I can come and help, sweetheart,” he offered but his face softened at the cutie in his arms. Your chest warmed at the sight and you shook your head, not wanting to disturb the moment.

“Between my mom and yours, there’s hardly anything left to do.” You left him with Alex and Oscar, passing by Lily and Dalton’s discussion about the best US golf courses, and found Sooty so he could be put in his kennel. You weren’t keen on having a repeat of his first Christmas when he broke the table leg trying to get scraps and the whole thing had crashed down. It had been a disaster that took a while before you could see the funny side but it still didn’t mean you could handle it happening again. “Come on, as soon as dinner is over you can have your freedom back.”

Sooty whined as you left him behind and you didn’t dare look back or you wouldn’t have the heart to leave him there. The sound followed you until you were inside and the noise of the guests swallowed his lonely cries so you could focus on the meal shared between friends and family.

Logan knelt beside the kennel and caught Sooty’s collar as he unhooked the chain and praised him for being a good boy. Dinner had been another one to remember for a long time to come and everyone was more than full as they settled around the extra large sofa inside. Traditionally, after dinner everyone would be feeling the liquor and reminisce on what they were thankful for before watching the Miami Dolphins game on the tv but since it was only a Tuesday there weren't any big teams playing.

Logan had a better way to end the perfect afternoon anyway.

“Sooty, where’s mommy?” Logan asked as he buckled his collar back in place and kissed the top of his head. “Go find mommy, go on, good boy.”

The quick moving ball of fur caught your attention and you just saved your glass of wine from being knocked off the coffee table before Sooty bounded over Lily’s shoes and landed at your feet. He barked twice and sat back on his heels, waiting as if he had been ordered to obey and was expecting a treat - except you hadn’t called him.

“Sooty, how did you escape your…” your words trailed off as you held his collar and watched the light catch on a diamond ring. The room fell silent as you looked up in time to see Logan lower himself onto one knee in front of you.

His deft fingers unbuckled the collar and slipped the ring off so he could hold it delicately in his hand. “I don’t need Thanksgiving to reflect on everything I’m grateful for this year,” he said softly and your heart beat so loudly you were certain everyone in the quiet room could hear it. “Since I found you, I’m thankful every damn day, and I would love to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much, if you’ll let me. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t remember when you last took a breath and your throat seemed to clog with emotion, choking the word you wanted to scream. Logan’s lips began to curve up into a proud smile when you nodded your head and lifted your trembling hand for him.

“Yes,” you finally managed to whisper, before the cold band slipped onto your ring finger and your vision blurred with unshed tears of joy.

You didn’t hear the cheer that erupted, you didn’t hear their congratulations. All you heard was Logan whispering he loved you against your lips before he claimed them for the first time as your fiance.

Logan hadn’t let go of your hand since he put the engagement ring on it but eventually he couldn’t keep you all to himself and draped an arm across the back of your seat instead.

“This is gorgeous!” Lily gasped after she leaned forward to inspect the large rock on the ring. You didn’t miss the pointed look she sent Alex and wondered how long it would be until he took the same step. “So how did you two meet if Logan was in Europe racing?”

Logan grinned as he traced his fingertips across your shoulder and over your collar. “Her mom was my uncle’s secretary and when I was home for the break I dropped by his office to visit him, and then I kept dropping in because I knew she was always in the staffroom doing her homework. Not that she ever looked my way.”

“I looked, when you weren’t,” you admitted as your cheeks heated. “But I had to keep my head down so I could actually concentrate on my assignments. He was very distracting to look at, still is.”

Oscar smiled to himself since he already knew the story well over the years of friendship and double dates.

Alex chuckled and mirrored your cosy state with Lily opposite you. “So did he finally ask you out or did you have to take charge?”

“Actually Harry set us up,” you said with a smile in the oil magnate’s direction where he was talking to his wife. “I didn’t have a licence and when my mom got sick Harry had Lo take me to visit her. He went out of his way to pick me up after school every day for like two months. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through that time without him.”

You turned your smile to Logan as he reached for his beer and took a long drink. If you were alone he would have whispered sweet affirmations in your ear about how strong you were and how he would always be there for you but with the present company and his ears turning pink he swallowed his words. But you still saw them in his proud smile and in his blue eyes.

“Okay, maybe I went a teensy, tiny, little bit overboard,” you admitted as you saw the leftovers filling the kitchen island after everyone had gone - the house was quiet once more.

You knew there was the temptation for Logan to say ‘I told you so’ but he just kissed your temple with a smile before he checked his watch and said. “I’ll get the containers.”

Although it was too late to go to Miami-Dade shelters tonight, it had become a tradition to take the leftovers around to them after a holiday. It would only go to waste with the two of you, especially since you were heading to Abu Dhabi in the morning.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” you asked when he returned from the garage with his arms full of takeaway containers.

“Once or twice,” he teased as he abandoned the containers to pull you into his arms, “but I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“Good thing we’ve got the rest of our lives then.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at the ring on your finger with fondness before staring into his ocean eyes. “I love you, Lo.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Always have, always will.”

Click here for the next part.

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fanfiction #logan sargeant imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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scoonsalicious · 2 months

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A Scoonsalicious Masterlist

All fics are 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. I exclusively write for Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader at this point in time, for maladaptive self-indulgent purposes.

Individual fics will contain individual warnings.

Bucky Barnes

(Fluff 💖) (Smut ❤️‍🔥) (Angst 💔) (Horror 🖤) (Violence ❤️‍🩹)

(Series ‼️) (One-Shot ❗️) (AU 💞) (1k+ Notes 🏆)

In Progress

🔜 With Friends Like These...: ❤️‍🔥💔‼️ Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You. WRITING

Completed

⚜️ Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔‼️ 🏆When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. 155.4k words (Epilogue Posted 4/27/24)

⚜️Pocket in the MCU: ❤️‍🩹 A series of miniseries and one-shot prequels featuring the MC from Unwanted, integrated into the existing narratives of the MCU films. ON GOING

⚜️ Like A Fairy Tale: 💔💖❗️🏆 Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true. 3.4k words (Posted 3/4/24)

⚜️ Your Choice: ❤️‍🔥💖💞❗️You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice. 4.3k words (Posted 3/5/24)

Upcoming

Unbroken: An Unwanted Sequel: ❤️‍🔥💔💖‼️ It's a secret, but doesn't that title sound ridiculous?! BRAINSTORMING

Hunted: ❤️‍🔥🖤❤️‍🩹‼️ A plane crash leaves you stranded in the Canadian wilderness with the one person who can't seem to stand you: Your mission partner, Bucky Barnes. You'll have to work together and put your differences aside in order to survive and get rescued. Only, the two of you aren't alone; someone, or something, is watching you from the woods. OUTLINING

Boys of Summer: ❤️‍🔥💔💞‼️ Every summer, the wealthy Barnes family escapes the heat of the city to their beach house on the New England coast, and every year for as long as you can remember, your father has been the caretaker of their property. Now your father's gone and you haven't seen Bucky Barnes since you two spent a summer night together when you were eighteen. Four years later, Bucky's returned with a slew of college friends in tow for the ultimate beach summer to celebrate his college graduation, and his recent engagement. PLANNING

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months

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Fluffcember Day 8 | Little River

Pairing | Avenger!Fiancé!Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Fiancée!Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff (Platonic)

Word count | 1.2K

Summary | You just found out you're having a baby, but since Loki is away on a long undercover mission you can't tell him about it just yet. Instead, you turn to your best friend, Natasha, to come up with the perfect way to tell Loki you're expecting. Once everything is in place and Loki is back home, you can't wait to reveal the news and see his reaction to your growing family.

Warning(s) | Established relationship ~ Fiancé/Fiancée, mentions of pregnancy, Loki getting the biggest surprise when he comes back from the mission.

A/n | This one-shot is written for day 8 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. Writing for Loki is always a lot of fun for me (and I often wonder why I don't do it more...), so this was a hoot to write! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this as well as helping me with the ideas, I'm happy to have you back! ❤️🎄

Events Masterlist | Sleepy back hugs | @buckys-wintersoldier

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

You're sitting on the bathtub's edge with your head in your hands, waiting impatiently for the timer to go off. The box clearly said to wait five minutes for the results, but these same five minutes feel like absolute torture.

And to top it all off, you're currently going through this moment alone because your fiancé, Loki, is on an undercover mission with no way to reach him. The universe's timing couldn't possibly have been worse.

When the alarm finally goes off, you practically launch forward, grabbing the test and looking at the result. Your suspicions are immediately confirmed when the test shows two prominent red lines: you're pregnant.

You can't help but let a sob escape from your chest because while you're thrilled, you're also sad that you can't share this moment with the person you're dying to share this with.

The topic of children hasn't come up too often in your relationship, though the few times it did, you two always came to the same conclusion: as long as you're still Avenging, you won't bring a child into this world.

But this plan has a significant shift, and you might step away from the Avengers sooner than anticipated. It's not that you haven't thought about it, but now that you're officially pregnant, that idea might become a reality.

First things first, though, you'll find Natasha so you can talk things through with her. To make this task easier on yourself, ask the AI for help.

''FRIDAY? Please tell me where Ms. Romanoff is at this moment. I need to talk to her.''

''It appears that Ms. Romanoff is currently in the living room with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. Do you want me to notify her of your arrival?''

''No, thank you,'' you tell the AI before changing into comfortable clothes; you can't exactly go out there in your underwear.

You left the test in your bathroom for now, and you head towards the living room to find Steve and Bucky cuddling on one end of the couch and Nat sitting on the other side, her body turned to them.

They're in the middle of a discussion about the next movie night since it's Steve's turn to pick the movie. He always chooses the same film, and Nat tries to convince him to pick something else, but she might be losing this discussion.

''She'll agree with me, won't you?'' Nat asks as you walk into the living room, and your eyebrows instantly shoot up, seeing how you didn't know what was happening.

''I'm sure I will, but that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to borrow you for a while,'' you say as you point towards Natasha, who gladly gets up to come with you.

''So, what's up?'' she asks when you lead her to your bedroom, where the test is still lying. The closer you get, the more nervous you get, but if there's anyone you trust with this news, it's Nat.

''Well... I- I have some news to share with you,'' you tell her, unsure where to start. She stops you in the hallway and forces you to look at her.

''Are you and Loki doing okay? Did something happen between you two?'' she asks, her brows furrowed in concern, but you quickly assure her that's not the case.

''No, god no! We're okay, we're doing great, actually,'' you say with a big smile, which Nat immediately reciprocates. All her worries instantly melt away, and how she feels about you and Loki is visible.

''But... there will be something changing between us though, and I want to show you exactly what,'' you say, and before you know it, you're in your bedroom, showing her the still very positive pregnancy test.

''Oh my god, I'm going to be an Auntie?! I can't believe it!'' she asks, and you nod your head before he flings herself around your neck, squealing in pure excitement.

When the first excitement finally ebbed away for a bit, you sat down on your bed with the pregnancy test still in your hand, and then the realization came flooding back that you must also tell your fiancé.

''How should I tell him the good news? Because I don't just want to spring this onto him, it's our first baby, so I want to make it special; I want to make it something he will never forget,'' you say, and an idea instantly sparks in Nat's head.

''I have the perfect idea, and you don't need many things for it!'' she says, and that's how the idea of how you're going to tell Loki you're pregnant is formed.

Exactly one week later, Loki returned from his mission, and after his shower, he changed into something comfortable. Now you're cuddling on your shared bed, making up for lost time.

''I love you so much, you know that? I can't believe I had to miss my beautiful wife-to-be for nearly two months...'' he tells you as he places a soft kiss in your hair.

''I missed you too, but I have a little present for you now that you're back,'' you tell him, and you wiggle out of his grasp, ready to grab the gift box you've prepared with Nat over the last week.

You grab an emerald green box with a silver bow around it and hand it to your future husband as you sit cross-legged in front of him. You watch intently as he unwraps it, lifting the lid, and he watches the sides of the box fall open.

Inside are the positive pregnancy test, baby shoes, and your small letter. Loki picks up the pregnancy test, and you can see tears form at his waterline.

''Loki? Is everything-'' ''I'm going to be a Dad?'' he asks in a small voice, accidentally interrupting you mid-sentence.

''Well, how about you read the letter?'' you tell him, and he grabs it, folding it open.

Dear future husband,

When you read this, you already know I am officially three months pregnant with your baby. Our little River will be born around Easter, and I cannot wait to meet them.

I'm very grateful to see our family grow, and I am forever thankful that you have given me the wonderful gift of our bunny. Our family will officially be complete once they're here, and I hope they will be just like you. Perfect in every way.

I love you forever and always.

~ Your future wife

As he reads the letter, you can see a tear or two escaping, trickling down his pale white cheek onto the paper. He reads the letter three, four, maybe five times before putting it down and looking at you.

''I can't believe it, we're going to have a baby!'' he says excitedly, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. He puts the present to the side so you can sit in his lap and cuddle him tightly.

That night, as you two are about to fall asleep, he pulls you with your back against his chest, and you let yourself melt into his touch. His large hand and long fingers are splayed over your belly, fiercely protecting it.

''I love you, hot mama,'' he tells you, and the new nickname has your cheeks heating up. And after exchanging a few more sweet nothings between you, you fall asleep in your future husband's arms.

You could not have wished for a better ending to this perfect day, and now all that's left to do is to wait for your little one to come into this world. But one thing is certain: River will be the perfect addition to your family.

#fluffcember 2023 #day 8 #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson fluff #loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff

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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

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valentine’s day one shot

poppies and babies’ breath

bucky barnes x fem!reader

bucky really wants to ask you out. but he can’t even dance anymore, much less date.

Bucky Barnes was not very good at dating. At least, not anymore.

No, that skill belonged to Sergeant James Barnes, a dumb, 20-something that hadn’t been made into an assassin for 70 years.

For all of his skills, that one is failing. He can toss a knife like nobody’s business, lift 1000 lbs to impress you on a training day, and speak dozens of languages.

But he can’t figure out how to flirt with you. Don’t even start on asking you out.

It used to be so easy. Flash a smile and the dames would line up to go dancing with a man in uniform.

Bucky can’t really dance anymore. Or he doesn’t want to.

He’s considering all of this as he stands outside of a flower shop, peering in and probably freaking out the kid at the register.

“Uh, sir, there’s a sale on flowers for Valentine’s Day…” the boy says, muffled through the glass. Bucky nods, finally stepping inside.

There are paper hearts strung up around the shop, only reminding him of exactly why he’s here. He’s gonna do it today. He’s gonna ask you out.

Well, he’s also here because he lost a bet with Sam. But that’s not important.

Bucky’s a dark shadow wandering through the quaint aisles, out of place in the colorful array of flowers. He skips over the roses. Too cliche.

He considers daisies, lilies, sunflowers, and flowers he doesn’t even know the names of until he finally finds what he was looking for.

Poppies. Your favorite. Apparently because of some story with opium poppies, wallabies, and crop circles. He was too distracted staring at you to fully grasp the story.

Bucky carefully grabs a handful and starts toward the counter before realizing that the bundle of red in his hand looks pretty bland. So then he adds some small white flowers, a pretty wrapping paper, and calls it a day.

“Can you wrap this for me?” he asks, setting down the items. The kid stares blankly at his metal hand, but nods.

He can’t remember the last time he bought flowers. ‘44, maybe? For his ma? He never bought any of his dates flowers. Too pricey and too significant when the relationships never lasted long.

You, though. You were different. Maybe it was the way you never looked at him like the teen boy in front of him had, with apprehension and questions Bucky didn’t feel like answering. Or maybe the fact that his brain had been through the blender.

But he loves you. And that’s more than he can say for most of his past ventures. He wants to give everything to you while also being selfish enough to take everything you may give him.

Bucky considers that he maybe deserves to be a little selfish sometimes.

The kid finishes wrapping the bouquet and hands it over.

“$25,” he mumbles, still in awe of the war hero in front of him.

Bucky tosses a $50 on the counter. “Thanks, kid.”

———————————————————————

A knock on the door of your room in Stark Tower startles you from your haze.

You’re in a shirt and pajama shorts on your bed, desperately trying to find a show that isn’t about true love.

It all reminds you too much of your own loneliness. How bad you wanted to ask out your own crush but never quite got ballsy enough to do it.

Grumbling as you watch a pair of high school sweethearts reunite in the picturesque Hallmark town, you stand to open the door.

There you find Bucky. The very man you’re conflicted over. Holding a bouquet and in a red henley to match the poppies.

“Hey,” he greets, trying to avoid staring at your legs.

You smile. “Hi, Bucky.”

He holds up the flowers. “I- I wanted to get you something for Valentine’s Day, and also…” He goes beet-red and stares at the ceiling for a moment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. You shake your head, waiting for him.

“Oof, okay. I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me? Sometime? Whenever works for you is fine-“

You rest a hand on his arm that’s still cradling the bouquet. “I’m free tonight?”

Finally, a shy grin breaks out on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky swallows, gives you a very real, very swoon-worthy smile, and hands over the flowers.

“Well, doll, do you wanna go dancing?”

Because yeah. Maybe he can’t dance anymore. But he wants to try with you.

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #valentine #valentine’s day #valentine’s day fic #one shot

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petitemistletoe · 1 year

Text

James

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst!!!

Word Count: 2K

“Good morning!” Wanda sung as she threw open your bedroom curtains. You and Bucky groaned and buried your heads your pillows.

“Wanda get out!” Bucky growled.

“Did you forget what today is?” Wanda asked, pulling the covers off of you.

“Wanda please!” You curled your body in a ball under your sweatshirt.

“I’m gonna hit her.” Bucky started to sit up.

“Might want to put pants on first, Sergeant.” Steve chuckled. You sat up finally and opened your eyes.

“How many people are in here?” You said, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room. Wanda and Steve were fully dressed and grinning at the both of you.

“Seriously guys. Why are you up?” Bucky asked, moving you so you were sitting in front of him and hiding his unclothed body.

“Wanda’s brother is coming to visit today! It’s all she’s been talking about for weeks.” Steve smiled.

“Oh yes! The infamous Pietro is finally going to grace our sweet little tower.” You nodded. You and Bucky had never met Pietro before but the rest of the team raved about him. Even Natasha had hinted that if you ever broke up with Bucky, she thought you and Pietro would make a beautiful couple- “you just look like you would be together,” Natasha would say, much to Bucky’s chagrin.

“His jet lands in a few minutes, please get dressed and meet us for lunch!”

“Where are we going for lunch?” You asked, standing up and rifling through your closet for something to wear.

“Tony catered with a bunch of traditional sovokian dishes!” Wanda grinned before bounding out of the room.

“There are also sliders.” Steve smiled before leaving you and Bucky in the room.

“How dressy do you think this needs to be?” Bucky asked, rubbing his forehead and looking at the closet with you.

“Sweater and jeans?” You said, looking at your sweaters. One stood out from the others.

“Gonna wear your old school sweater?” Bucky asked. It was a gray sweater with your school crest in the right corner and it was lined with red and gold, your house colors.

“No,” you said, thumbing the fabric, “I think I’ll wear this green sweater instead.”

You and Bucky were the last to arrive to lunch, besides the guest of honor of course. Everyone was excitedly chattering about Pietro and how they could not wait to see him.

“Your future lover is coming up the stairs,” Natasha said in a sing-song voice. Bucky rolled his eyes and threw a slider at Natasha’s head.

“Everyone!” Wanda was standing near the door with her arms around someone you couldn’t make out yet. “This is my brother, Pietro!”

“Guess we should introduce ourselves to your new husband.” Bucky chuckled, grabbing your hand.

“Shut up,” you playfully hit his shoulder. You waited politely for everyone to greet Pietro before you and Bucky went up to him and Wanda.

“Nice to meet y…” Pietro trailed off as he locked eyes with you.

“James?” You whispered.

“Yes?” Bucky looked at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Pietro shook his head and placed his hands on your elbows.

“Oh no, what’ve they done now?” James chuckled as you and him watched Remus, Peter, and Sirius sprint across the grass from your place in front of the lake.

“I guess you’ll get to ask them in a second.” You smiled as the boys came running towards you and flopping down on the blanket.

“Oh! Hot butterbeer!” Sirius grabbed the large bottle by the neck and took a long sip.

“Why were you all running?” You asked.

“Sirius just convinced Snape to jump into the black lake because Lily Evans was waiting at the bottom for him and then Peter set his robes on fire. Sirius was going to drain the lake but McGonagall started heading over and we had to run.” Remus grinned, accepting the bottle from Sirius and taking a swig as well.

“Yeah, be a mate and pretend we’ve been with you the whole time.” Sirius pointed at the both of you.

“What are you doing anyway?” Peter asked, rummaging through the picnic basket and taking a large bite from a steaming piece of Yorkshire pudding.

“It’s mine and James’s two year anniversary. We’re having a romantic picnic.” You responded.

“We were having a romantic picnic.” James looked very cross with the other marauders.

“Has it been two years already?” Remus said, drumming his long fingers on his chin. Sirius and Peter were tucking into the rest of the food you all had packed. You weren’t going to say anything until Sirius pulled out the entire steaming Shepard’s pie.

“Okay! That’s more than enough.” You said, snatching the pie back.

“Can you leave us alone!” James said, turning impossibly red.

“Why’re you both freaking out!” Sirius said, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Yeah I-oh.” Something seemed to have clicked in Remus’s brain and he immediately stood up, “Let’s go.” He grabbed Peter elbow with one hand and Sirius’s with another.

“Moony! Let me go! Why are you defending these tossers!” Sirius was protesting.

“I think McGonagall is heading this way!” You shouted.

“Stop lying,” Sirius said with an eye roll.

“Ah fuck,” Peter shot up, “she isn’t lying,” He pointed to the ball of fury in green robes that was coming up the hill. The boys sprinted away at the sound of McGonagall shrill:

“Come back here right now!”

“I’m sorry about all that.” James sighed, reclining back and letting you place your head in his lap.

“It’s alright. I feel like these past two years I’ve been dating all of you.” You grinned.

“Hilarious.” James rolled his eyes. You turned your head in his lap and then gasped.

“Mr. Potter! Is that a wand in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”

“Sit up for a second.” James was suddenly very serious.

“Okay,” you gave James a weird look but sat up so you were facing him. James dug around in his pocket for a moment and brought out a small velvet box.

“Don’t freak out, but I’ve been thinking about us a lot. It’s just…the world is uncertain, especially with Voldemort and I don’t want to waste another minute. I love you. I want to get married after we graduate.”

You were at a loss for words as James opened the velvet box to show a small, delicate ring. Your finger brushed over the ridges of the ring before James slid it onto your finger.

“Is that a yes?” James asked, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yes.”

“What is going on between you two?” Wanda asked, looking back and forth between you and her brother very quickly.

“I know James…I mean Pietro. I don’t really understand how any of this is happening.” You shook your head.

“I don’t get it. How could you know each other? You came off the ice just two years ago and Pietro has been in Sokovia since Ultron, helping repair the town.” Wanda looked like her brain was going to explode.

“You all know I went to a boarding school in the UK and was put on the ice after being hurt in the war against Voldemort. I know Pietro from school. I just don’t understand how?” You turned back to you were facing Pietro.

“I’m not sure I fully understand it myself. I feel like seeing you unlocked an entire set of memories I didn’t know I had,” Pietro shakily sat in his chair, feeling his stomach turn over and over.

“You knew Pietro back at your boarding school? And why is your accent British now and not Sokovian?” Scott asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“I was James then,” Pietro said, “James Potter.”

“Pietro?” Wanda was looking at Pietro like he’d grown another head.

“Wait a second,” you felt your blood run cold for a moment, “Harry? Is he alive too? Is he out there somewhere?”

You and James felt like a truck had backed over you. Sirius was sitting in your kitchen, not able to make eye contact with you, after just telling you that he wasn’t able to be your secret keeper anymore.

“I…I just don’t get it. What are we supposed to do?” James asked, getting up and pacing. You looked across the room and made eye contact with Remus, who was bouncing your one year old son, Harry, on his knee and Peter, who was shaking Harry’s rattle. Remus sent you a small smile.

“It’s not a good idea. My family are tied too intimately with the death eaters. If anything happened to you because of that I’d never forgive myself,” Sirius shook his head and wrung his hands. James looked like he was getting ready to start yelling again but you stopped him,

“James. Sirius makes a good point. He’s just trying to do what’s best for us. And for Harry.”

“I know that! So, who’s our secret keeper now? Did you think of that, Sirius?” James was trying hard not to seethe but you could see his eyes were cloudy the way they got when he was enraged.

“What about Moony?” Sirius gestured to Remus hopefully.

“Not with his time of the month,” James shook his head.

“Hey!” Remus protested, “But he’s right. Too risky.”

“What about me?” Peter asked.

“That’s a good idea. Peter’s loyal, kind. And, no offense Wormtail, I don’t even think the death eaters know who he is.” James took a deep breath and stuck his hand out to Peter,

“Ready if you are.”

Pietro’s eyes went wide.

“Who’s Harry?” Steve asked.

“Our son,” you could barely whisper.

“Is this some sort of multiverse thing?” Tony was already typing away on his phone, probably trying to get in contact with Dr. Strange.

“I have no idea about Harry. I thought…well you were with him last.” Pietro shook his head.

“I don’t understand what’s going on at all.” Bucky looked like he was going to blow a fuse.

“He’s here, you have to get Harry and run.” James said, grabbing his wand and staring at the figure that was stalking his way towards your door.

“How did he find us?” You sobbed. “Can’t we run?”

“Listen to me. We don’t have time for this. I’ll hold him off. Get out of here.” James pushed you towards the stairs. You bound up the stairs with Harry in your arms. You ran into the nursery and shut the door, placing Harry in his crib. You reached in your back pocket for your wand and cursed lowly under your breath. It wasn’t there. You had no idea where it could be. You started scouring the room when you heard a scream and a slithery voice hiss a death curse. You put your hand over your mouth to stop your own scream. You pushed the crib to the furthest corner in the room from the door and stood in front of it, shielding it with your body. The door was burst open and you saw him in the face for the first time.

“I’ll spare you. Just give me the boy. He asked me to spare you.” He hissed.

“Who?”

“James.”

“James? James would not have asked you spare me over his own son.”

“Not that James. Get out of way. I will not ask you again” Voldemort lifted his wand.

“You have a son? You never mentioned that.” Bucky said, turning to face you.

“I didn’t remember it myself…not until…just now.” You were looking back and forth between Pietro and Bucky. James and Bucky. James and…James.

“Voldemort…he said something to me before…” your mind was racing a million miles a minute.

“What is your name?” Pietro turned and looked at Bucky. You could tell that he was thinking exactly what you were.

“Bucky.”

“It’s James. His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.”

Part 2

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #James potter #aaron Taylor johnson #james potter x reader #pietro maximoff #maurauders era #maurauders #mauraders x reader #harry potter #marvel

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faust-the-enjoyer · 7 months

Text

Keegan x exwife!reader

Requested by @thedoveesquire : "Keegan Russ x ex wife! Reader. (The reader divorced him but Keegan is secretly stalking her and their baby. She goes to the grocery store on base, and she’s wearing a nice dress to take pictures with her baby and she receives a text (Keegan) saying that she looked gorgeous. I don’t want it to be scary or extreme, it’s just Keegan being possessive"

A/n: since the reader still shops on base, i would assume that she lives there too, and that because she and Keegan were married and both "live" on base, they are of the same rank, both being sergeants, otherwise it wouldn't be allowed etc. This is also my first ever request, so thank you! I hope you like it!

Warnings: possessive behaviours, fem!reader, cursing, mention of relationship issues.

Things were going fine in you and Keegan's marriage, but after having your first child with him, problems arose. He started distancing himself from you, as if he was somehow falling out of love with you, yet he still took proper care of your child whenever it was his turn to, but the emotional distance between the both of you was too much, so you decided to get a divorce, and luckily, it was ended on a semi-good note, Keegan never mistreated you, and always was good with his kid and still is, but he started growing colder and colder towards you, that is, until a couple of weeks ago.

You were walking around on base with your your nine month old child, aiming to go to the commissary to buy some groceries, then leave base to go take some photographs with your kid, so naturally, you wore a pretty dress, something for a professional photo, as you try to get photos with your child every other month to capture them growing bigger and older, they're also wearing a cute little outfit!

Keegan on the other hand, after months being aloof and professional towards you, started longing for you again. He knew that the gap he created was too big to be filled and fixed now, so he chose to watch and observe you from afar. Everytime you bring his kid to him to spend some time with him and leave, he notices the way you've changed your hair, the makeup you wear, colours he'd never seen on you before, outfits he'd want to compliment you on, yet he holds his tongue. He, for weeks, has watched you from far away, wanting to have some sort of possession over you, wanting to let go of his tongue, wanting to come talk to you at other times other than when he visits his kid, he wants you, he wants you back, and he knows he can't have you back.

You're walking around the commissary, your baby seated in the shopping cart, looking around in wonder at their surroundings, and you have your purse on your shoulder, you're trying to find the cleaning supplies aisle, when get a text on your phone. You pull it out of your bag, putting it on silent and opening it to see who it is. "Hey, I know it's been a whilw since we talked, but I wanted you to know that you look fucking gorgeous in that dress.", you put your hand on your upper chest, turning your head to look around, from where could he have possibly seen you? You didn't even see him in the commissary. You frown a bit, finishing shopping and going to your family housing to put down your grocery bags, and go to Keegan's room, wanting to confront him on his behaviour. Was he following you around? Stalking you? And how could he just go on for months without talking to you then send a text like that?

You walk to his room, holding your baby as you knock on his door. He opens the door, slight guilt showing behind his eyes, though his smile is proud. "Sergeant, we need to talk.", you tell him, keeping it cold and professional, and he moves out of the way to let you in, although his baby giggled and smiled at seeing theie father, trouble formed behind Keegan's eyes.

-(divider by vase-of-lilies )!

#keegan russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #keegan p russ #cod x reader

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dragon-chica · 5 years

Text

Sarge NSF~W headcanons

Because I've forgotten to post this for how many months...I wrote these quite awhile ago, beware.

- Due to apocalypse you two probably don't go down on each other that often, because lack of privacy and no running water.

- After the rare occasions of washing up in a stream or Murphy Town bath though?

- You and Sarge are nightmares to be around, always sneaking off and never being near quiet enough about it.

- Though she likes it, bondage probably doesn't happen that much since in is "secure" places you never know when a Z will show up and then it's just a hassle.

- She gives you a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle and "suggestive" look when she wants to go have some fun.

- You laugh while following her out.

- Fingering definitely happens.

- A lot.

- Shoved in a locker together with too many Z's right outside? Well you'll be in there awhile anyway...

- She moans a lot, not necessarily loud but you know how much she loves the attention you're giving her.

- Even in you're just working on her neck, she loves getting and giving hickeys.

- Both of you are bruised messes without the least bit of shame or subtly.

- Murphy tries teasing but it doesn't even work, she's shameless and you will be too.

- Plus rubbing it in his face he's just jealous about not getting any.

#Sarge x reader #Sarge imagine #Sergeant Lily x reader #Sergeant Lily imagine #Z Nation #Z Nation imagine #Z Nation x reader #my stuff

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

I Want Us Part 5

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,623

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

As it turned out, it wasn’t too long at all. About six months after you’d closed your New York case, putting a child abductor behind bars where he belonged and reuniting a boy with his family, you received an urgent message from Voight requesting you all come in to the district.

It was early on a Saturday morning following a few drinks at Molly’s the previous night, but it was so rare for Voight to call you in like this on your day off that you knew it had to be important.

You were just multi-tasking getting dressed and downing an inordinate amount of caffeine when you got a phone call, ‘Detective Carisi’ flashing up on the screen as you paused, one leg in your trousers.

“Hey you,” you answered, putting the phone between your shoulder and ear so you could continue to get ready, curious about why he was calling.

“Morning, sorry to call so early, but I figured you’d be awake,” he greeted, sounding like he was walking somewhere, the familiar sounds of traffic filling the background.

“Yeah I am, I’m about to head into work though, Voight’s wants us in for some reason, what’s up?” You informed him, looking around for your keys as you finished the last drops of your coffee.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Your Sergeant didn’t tell you? It’s why I’m calling actually, we’re coming to Chicago.” Now that did take you by surprise, Voight’s message hadn’t said anything about SVU, but you weren’t that surprised, it was Voight.

“Oh yeah? Know anything about the case?” You asked, your slight smile at the thought of seeing Carisi somewhat quashed by the fact that it meant something seriously bad was going on in your backyard.

“A serial rapist that went dormant a few years back seems to have resurfaced in Chicago-” he explained, getting cut off by the sound of someone calling his name in the background, “Sorry, I’ve got to get to my flight, see you soon?”

“Yeah, let me know when you touch down. Oh, and Carisi?” You heard him pause, “this time you get to see what real pizza is supposed to taste like.”

He laughed on the other end of the line, “uh huh, we’ll see; bye Y/N.”

“Bye,” you hung up, a bit of a smile still on your face as you went about finishing up to leave your apartment.

You and Carisi had kept in contact since you’d gotten back from New York. Nothing serious or anything, but you’d had a good time together and really seemed to connect on your short visit. The conversation had always felt natural, just chatting into the night for no other reason than just enjoying each other’s company. It was nice, whatever it was, and you were looking forward to seeing him in person again.

Throwing on your shoes and coat you headed out the door, making your way to the 21st. As much as you were looking forward to seeing Carisi, you had a job to do.

You arrived at the 21st at the same time as Antonio, catching up to him on the steps as you entered. “Know what we’re doing here on this glorious Saturday morning?” He asked, gesturing to the brilliant sunshine and cloudless sky.

Antonio had been planning a weekend with his kids, he’d been talking about it all week, and you felt a pang of guilt for not remembering until now. You might not have had plans, or much of an actual life, but that didn’t mean the rest of the unit, your partner especially, hadn’t had to drop a lot to come in today.

“Only that it’s important, SVU’s on their way,” you filling him in on what Carisi had told you as you waved good morning to a desk Sergeant you didn’t recognise. At least Trudy still got the weekend, you thought to yourself, but then even Hank Voight wouldn’t risk her fury at being asked to come in on a Saturday morning.

The pointed look Antonio gave you had you rolling your eyes, but he was the only one who knew that you still kept in touch with Carisi, though the rest of them had given you hell the second you’d boarded that plane home from New York.

You buzzed the both of you in upstairs, not the first to arrive but not the last either as Jay, Hailey and Kim milled about the bullpen, helping Voight set up the board with your new case.

“Need a hand?” Antonio asked after morning greetings were made, examining what was up on the board so far. You joined him after throwing your jacket over the back of your desk chair, picking up with folder Voight had left on your desk. Everyone had one laid out for them, so you flicked through it as the others spoke.

“Nah we’ve pretty much got it all set up, this is a pretty thin case considering, well, everything about it,” Jay answered, following his eyes to where he glanced at the board, a row of 9 young women, nearly identical in their pale skin, blonde hair, and delicate features.

“Christ,” you muttered, looking from their images on the board to the crime scene photos in the file in your hand. All the women looked like porcelain dolls, their hair and make up immaculate, and all of them were dressed in different ball gowns, their hands laid over their chests with a single rose inclosed.

“Not the start to the weekend you expected huh?” Kim commented grimly as Voight emerged from his office, two photographs, the rest of the unit filling in up the stairs.

“I think Jessica Connors would agree,” Voight answered, drawing the attention of the room as you greeted the others, sticking up two more photographs next to the other 9, who must have been the New York victims.

The next two women looked nearly identical to the others, flicking to the back of the file to find their reports as Voight spoke. “She was found late last night, same M.O as the rest,” he told you all, pointing to the second photograph he’d stuck up. “This is Lily Hamilton, found the same way a week ago. The connection between the victims was made last night and a further connection was made with these other 9 women, all matching the M.O to the letter, including aspects not released to the press, and all coming from New York 10 years ago.”

“Special Victims?” Kevin asked, earning a nod from Voight.

“Captain Benson, Detective Carisi and Officer Tamin are already on their way,” he replied, “this is going to be a big case, the press is already picking up on the story, and the Commissioner thought it would be best if we took it given our history of working successfully with New York’s Special Victims Unit.”

Your mind went instantly to Carisi but you shut him out, now wasn’t the time to think about seeing him ago. This case would have been before he’d joined the unit, but you figured maybe Captain Benson would know more, they might have even working it back in the day.

“All the women, practically identical, went missing within a 6 month window, with gaps ranging from a couple of days to a couple of months. The only connection NYPD found was their appearance, and he seems to have kept them alive for varying lengths of time before killing them and dressing them up like this. They never found out where, but they weren’t killed in the woods. Signs of sexual assault were obvious, but actual damage to their body was minimal. The cause of death was a concoction of lethal drugs injected into their system, the contents of which were not released to be public but match both our cases and New York’s,” Voight relayed the basics.

“So how are we working this?” Hailey asked, perched up on her desk with her head rest on her chin, staring thoughtfully at the board in front of you all.

“I want Burgess, Ruzek and Antonio on the old New York cases, see if anything was missed or if any potential suspects have surfaced in Chicago recently. Atwater and Rojas will re-examine the first crime scene, I want every stone unturned. Upton and Halstead will interview both of the families, see what they were doing when they went missing, but remember, we only found Jessica last night, so tread carefully.”

You couldn’t help but notice one name not mentioned. “Sergeant-” You began to ask, slightly raising your hand. He turned to you before you could finish.

“Y/L/N, Benson requested you work with her unit for this case, seems you made quite an impression in the way you handled our last case with them, you’ll be heading to the most recent crime scene after you’ve all reviewed the case notes, meet them there when they touch down,” he explained, Antonio suppressing a smirk and others glancing at you curiously.

You didn’t know what to say, so you nodded to let him know you understood, Benson’s comment about a change of scenery resurfacing in your mind. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but maybe she’d actually been serious.

“What are you all still doing standing around, let’s get moving,” Voight ordered, snapping all of you into gear as you quickly pushed that from your mind too, heading back to your desk and ignoring the raised brow Antonio gave you.

You had a case to work and a killer to catch, and with Special Victims touching down in a couple of hours, whoever this rapist was, their luck had just run out.

#sonny carisi #svu #law and order svu #chicago pd #one chicago #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #svu imagine #law and order svu imagine #chicago pd imagine #one chicago imagine #sonny carisi imagines #svu imagines #law and order svu imagines #chicago pd imagines #one chicago imagines #i want us

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Text

Aeipathy: Chapter Two

Disclaimer: i don’t (unfortunately) own Marvel or any of their characters, plot points, etc. so all right are to them and their our overlord Disney

AN: yeahhhh this one’s a shorty but i promise the next one will be longer and filled with plot and angst and shit so prepare yourselves <3

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: angst, mentions of torture, mentions of murder/arson, HYDRA collectively is a prick

Chapter One is available here!

Gnawing.

It claws through my body on all fours. Tearing, ripping, hacking, burning.

Monstrous fangs that sink into the deepest parts of muscle- I can feel it in my bones, the burning.

There is no noise, just the sound of whirring and the unholy screeching of demons in my ears. Faceless demons, demons whose faces have too much detail, demons that stare, demons that scream. Demons, demons, demons.

I have fallen. Fallen from grace. Fallen from…

No, no.

I am falling.

Something catches me. A savior in blue. Scarlet red smeared across their chest. Blood. My blood- the blood of sinners and saints and bystanders. Of children and ancients and of rich and poor.

There’s white streaked between the red. Piety. Purity. Righteousness. Desperately, I cling to the stark white stripes. Indecipherable mumbles pass my lips as I stare at the white. I beg for purity, to be clean again.

Every time I wake up, it’s always the same.

The immovable weight in my body. The unceasing shivering. The bite of frost. The writhing of filth in my veins. In my nerves. In every fiber of my being. Festering. Growing. Rotting. Corrupting. Remembering.

But why can’t I remember?

All I can remember are the demons. Faceless, nameless but never silent. Always screaming.

Screaming, screaming, screaming.

I cling to the white. The righteousness of my savior. Solidity in turbulence. Silence in cacophony. Purity. Cleanliness. Life.

I cling to life.

But life burns under my fingertips. It shrieks and squirms under my touch- tries to escape. Repelled by my presence, it retracts away from my grasp.

Color retracts into shapes as I take in my surroundings. An almost completely empty room completely made of concrete. A single contraption behind me made of metal. Icy fog slithers out of the open door, hissing and flicking at my ankles.

Words, however, remain blurred. The savior holds me upright- pulls me to my feet. Everything burns and aches. I’m so incredibly cold. Frosted water paints my skin, coats my clothes to my body. A puddle gathers beneath the writhing fog.

This seems familiar.

My eyes turn up towards my savior. The blood-stained guardian. Words fall from their lips, landing on deaf ears.

My body trembles as the cold becomes more vicious with its fangs. The savior turns away and says something. Everything is muffled- faraway and distant and like someone has their hands clamped down over my ears.

“Why am I awake?” I ask, straightening up. Every inch of me quivers while every part of me wishes to stop.

But I was awoken for a purpose. My mission.

And I’ll complete it.

Hail HYDRA.

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters

Date: 2012

“Woah, easy, ________,” I mutter, holding her upright. Her eyes wide, they flick around the room. Her hands grip my chest as she shakes violently.

She’s here. She’s alive.

She… she died. Died on that table- how is this…

“Steve,” Tony mutters, holding out a blanket. I take it and start to wrap it around her shoulders.

As her glazed eyes lock with mine, I look over her face. She’s drained of color- blue and white. Her chapped blue lips open and close violently.

Hoarsely, she starts to speak.

But not anything I can understand.

Over and over, she repeats questions with her eyes wide and wary of every moment and movement. My eyes dart over to Tony- who watches ________, his eyebrows furrowed.

Russian.

That’s what she’s speaking. Russian. And fluently. Extremely well. Why… Why is she…?

“She didn’t… usually speak like this, did she?” Tony asks, gesturing vaguely to her as she continues to shake in my arms. Broken words off a stolen tongue hiss past her lips. She furrows her eyebrows as she looks between the two of us.

“Her files told me she was-” Tony continues.

“She’s… she’s never spoken this before,” I mutter, adjusting my grip under her arms. “Raised in Brooklyn for most’a her life- I dunno why-”

“V chem... moya missiya?” ________ hisses, her voice shaking. I look down and watch her straighten up on unsteady legs. “V chem moya missiya?”

“...why is she…?” Tony mutters, stepping in front of her. He lets his head fall back with a sigh as he taps his leg with his finger. “It’s been a long time, let’s see if I can do this.” Rolling his shoulders back and snapping his neck, he focuses back on ________. “Kto ty?”

________’s head tilts to the side slightly. Her eyebrows furrow further as she glares at him through them. “...Hetaerae. V chem moya missiya?”

Tony sighs and closes his eyes as he speaks. “Ch… chto… ty. Chto ty?”

Her eyes glaze over as she stops shaking, standing upright. “Ya HYDRA.”

“...she’s… She died, Tony. I don’t… I don’t know what else to tell you,” I mutter, looking up from the desk. “She… she died before I even got the serum. I hadn’t even seen Doctor Erskine- Bucky… he hadn’t been shipped off to Europe yet.”

“I may be able to help explain that,” Tony says as he gets to his feet. In his hand is a thick folder filled with papers and photos and notes and scraps of paper. He places it in front of me with a thud. “Apologies- I would opt for the digital version but, uh… you… don’t even know what... that… is.”

“Tony,” I say sharply as I open the folder. He just shrugs and sits down across the table again. The top paper is mostly blacked-out with a few words left untouched. ________’s name. Her age. Her parents and their causes and dates of death. And other words that… don’t make sense. ‘Mistress’. ‘Replication’. ‘Improvement’. ‘Rejected’. ‘Baroness’. ‘Salbei’.

‘Hetaerae’.

Repeated over and over throughout the sea of black streaks is that word. ‘Hetaerae’. At the very bottom of the page in tiny letters are the words ‘Project Samsara- Hetaerae’. In the corner is a skull with tentacles writhing beneath it. ‘HYDRA’ is written along the curve of the skull.

My stomach churns. If HYDRA really is behind this then...

I start tearing into the folder. Photos of the various angles of the steel container from when I woke up. Under it is a handwritten note. ‘Cryo-container; Vrsn: Hetaerae’.

Another photo- this one of a chair. On the armrests and legs are cuffs, along with another one on the back of the chair. Something metal comes around the chair. It juts off the side of a machine and looms over it like an archway. A note is written over the photo. ‘Neck brace may prematurely terminate subject. Issue logged during first programming session’.

Another blacked-out stack of papers. The same words are repeated over and over again. ‘Hetaerae’, ‘Baroness’, ‘Samsara’, ‘Salbei’, ‘HYDRA’. My fists clench the papers before tossing them to the side. Tony watches in silence.

What the Hell is this? What were they doing- what did ________ have to do with it?

My eyebrows furrow as I manically flip through the papers. Papers fly to the side as I tear through the folder. I can feel myself getting rigid as I near the end.

Nothing. I’ve learned nothing. Not a single goddamn thing. There’s nothing here-

My hands stop as my eyes rest on the last few items. A file not blacked out. It’s completely intact. Nothing scratched, no scribbles, no hasty lines cutting through words. I snatch it and start reading.

Project Samsara; Hetaerae

Subject Name: ________ Bishop

Subject Age: 26

Subject Info:

Daughter of Leon Bishop (deceased) and Catherine Chambers (deceased)

Resident of Brooklyn, NY

Military background

Non-combatant medic

Attempted pilot training

Worked under Doctor Akin Nachtnebel- HYDRA researcher

Personal friend of Captain Steven G. Rogers, Sergeant James B. Barnes, political activist Odessa Lily Mae Ababio

Official status: Deceased

Simplified Process Log (see file 178953 for detailed logs):

Day 1:

Body retrieved by HYDRA.

Blood and tissue samples taken.

Heart/respiration rates taken.

Note: Hetaerae seems to be semi-lucid. May require sedation.

Day 13:

Serum incubation complete.

Visible changes in body structure internal and external.

Bone density increased slightly, muscle mass increased, other changes to be tested.

Day 23:

Regen. abilities test positive

Enhanced reflexes test positive

Body modifications test optimal

Note: Hetaerae seemed to negatively respond to pain. Possible weakness. Must train to not respond.

Day 68:

First programming session prematurely terminated. Hetaerae reacted negatively to programming.

Admitted to medical wing.

Near strangulation and bruised trachea.

Removing neck cuff on programming station and attempting again tomorrow.

Day 100:

Programming temporarily successful.

Hetaerae could not recall set of numbers given pre-programming for forty minutes.

Memory wipe testing will continue.

Day 173:

Hetaerae admitted to medical wing for treatment.

Major vocal cord damage.

Damage not irreversible.

Memory wipe testing will continue.

Note: Hetaerae begged for ‘Steve’ and ‘Bucky’ repeatedly during memory wipe. More research needed.

Day 234:

Three guards admitted to medical wing.

Hetaerae had clawed at their eyes, noses, ears, and mouths

Broken nails were taken from guards’ faces.

Admitted samples for research.

Extra-long memory wipe testing done.

Hetaerae will be allowed a day to rest after strenuous session. Cannot allow for subject’s termination.

Day 250:

Near disaster.

Hetaerae attempted escape.

Four guards killed. Two more seriously injured.

Must increase security.

Note: Hetaerae lethal before combat training. A promising candidate. Akin, in his paranoia, chose well.

Day 276:

Hetaerae broke free of restraints during memory wipe.

Too exhausted to attempt escape.

Memory wipe has prevented Hetaerae from remembering subject name.

Will begin codeword implantation process tomorrow.

Day 342:

Hetaerae begins Samsara training tomorrow.

Complete memory wipe achieved.

Hetaerae is the only thing within subject.

Day 3658:

Samsara training complete.

Winter Soldier co-training complete.

Complete memory wipe complete.

Codeword implantation complete.

Hetaerae to be placed in cryo to await orders.

Hail HYDRA.

HYDRA status: Active. Ready for use.

“Look at her track record,” Tony mutters, sliding a thick wad of papers over to me. Turning away, I shake my head. “...fine. I’ll read it for you.” He huffs, flipping through the various pages. “Uh… her first mission was to…” he scoffs, “To take out a mid-level politician that had apparently laid his eyes on something he shouldn’t have. ‘Mission: success, target: terminated’.”

“Tony…” I warn quietly, my shoulders getting tenser with each word.

“A few missions later, she’s retrieving lab samples and… and destroying the lab... Fourteen people killed. ‘Mission: success, targets: terminated’.”

“Tony.”

“I’m skimmin’ here, Cap, but listen- an orphanage in Saint Petersburg, a… a couple in Prague, a woman in Athens, a man in Cairo...” Tony continues skimming through the pages. “‘Mission: success, target: terminated’, ‘Mission: success, target: terminated’, ‘Mission: success, target: terminated’-”

“Enough!” I snap, turning to look at him.

Tony sighs and puts the papers down. Running a hand down his face, he purses his lips. “Dunno how else t’tell ya this, Cap- she’s dangerous. She has killed hundreds of people. She can speak seven languages, she can infiltrate a political atmosphere and topple it, she can... camouflage in any… social situation, she has a perfect kill record... Whoever she was before-”

“She’s still in there,” I cut in. “She’s still in there.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Are… are you not... hearing what I’m telling you?” He gestures to the original folder. “They laid into her for… ten years. Subjected her to torture. Wiped her slate clean. Whatever was in there, pal, it’s long gone.”

A huff leaves my lips. “...you don’t know what she was like,” I mumble coldly, reminiscing over what it was like to live with her, to live with her at my side like I was at hers. “She was… the most... hard-headed… stubborn dame I’d ever met. And strong, too.”

“Rogers-”

“She’s still in there, Tony,” I snap, my eyes flicking up to him. “She’s strong.”

“Good morning.” I say, waving at ________ as she sits on the chair. Her breathing is steady, eyes trained on the opposite side of the room. Her wrists are handcuffed to the armests- the same with her ankles. They clink slightly as she breathes.

The room is completely empty except for another chair across from hers. My shield lays against the chair- ‘a precaution’ Fury called it.

‘A threat’ is what I would call it.

I step further into the room and sit down on the chair. With glazed eyes, she watches me. “Are… those too tight?” I ask, gesturing to the cuffs.

She says nothing. Only blinks in response.

She… she looks so empty.

Her face was always glowing, her smile illuminating the clinic when Buck and I would walk in to bring her lunch or just to bug her. Letters would flood in every now and then from past patients or their families, thanking her for her patience and kindness. She would keep them all in a shoebox under her bed.

And her hands. She would wrap bandages around my wounds with care. She’d always tell me to not get it in my head to fight again… and then ask where the punks lived so she could ‘pay them a visit’. Her hands were always feather-soft when checking every injury’s progress.

Now they look… darker. Not in color but just… darker.

Stained.

Did she know what she was doing when she killed those people?

________ shifts slightly, the sound of the handcuffs pulling me out of my head. I clear my throat and straighten up. “...do you know who I am?” I ask quietly.

No response.

“Do you know who you are?”

“Haetarae.” She answers, eyes still glazed.

“Do you… do you know who you actually are?”

________’s eyes narrow for just a moment. “...HYDRA.”

“No. No,” I mutter, pointing to my chest. “...do you know who I am?”

...nothing.

“Steve. I’m Stevie. We… we grew up in Brooklyn together. With Bucky. We, um… Buck ‘nd I, we helped you out of a fight when you were thirteen. That’s how we met… you… remember that…?”

She blinks, eyes scanning over me.

Getting up from my seat, I reach into my pocket and tug a photo of the three of us out of my pocket. It was taken after she had gotten her nursing credentials. We had gone out dancing, just the three of us. We found someone willing to take our photo. A smile crosses my lips as I look down at it.

Colors start to fade into the black and white photo. Every detail is so crisp. ________’s chin is resting on my head as she stands behind me- a bright, red-lipped smile on her face. Her arms are wrapped around my chest as she leans over. Her hair is done perfectly- up with roses in her hair. Neat and tidy like she practiced. The skirt of her dress is the same shade of red as her lips. Black dots pattern the fabric of the skirt. The bodice was black- matching her heels. Hooked through her elbows was a creme-colored fur boa.

Bucky’s got his arm around her waist and he ducks down to my level. He holds a pressed black suit, wearing a red undershirt. His suit jacket is hung over his shoulder with his undershirt’s sleeves rolled up. I remember him shining his shoes that day while ________ meticulously placed roses in her hair. Bucky had sewn and hemmed my pants with pride. ‘It’s a special day, punk’, he mumbled with the needle between his lips, ‘can’t have ya trippin’ on your pant legs.’

She shifts again and I’m pulled right back into now. ________ sits in front of me. No smile, no roses, no brightness. And Bucky… Bucky’s dead and gone. Lost a long, long time ago. Slowly, I hold out the photo. “...see?” I mumble, “That’s me… before I… had a growth spurt. And that’s Buck.”

I look up to her. She’s focused on the photo, eyes slightly squinted and head tilted to the side just barely. “...Buck ‘nd you,” I laugh quietly. “He… he was… so crazy about you. He just… never realised it.”

The door behind us cracks open. Her body snaps tightly, eyes back to glazed. Tony peeks his head into the room and tilts it back. “Eyepatch wants you.”

I sigh. Looking back at ________, I tuck the photo into her hand. Slowly, her fingers wrap around it delicately. I nod once and start out of the room. As the door swings shut, I spare one last look. ________ looks down at the photo, her head slightly tilting once more.

“It may be our only option,” Fury sighs. “She’s unpredictable at best.”

“She’s still in there- if I can just… keep talking with her-”

“That is out of the question,” he says firmly, eye flicking up to me. “...you’re too close on this one, Rogers. I’m making the executive decision to-”

Lights start to flash overhead- red and screaming. A wailing buzz rips out of the hallway as the red light bathes us in scarlet. The door slams open, Tony standing in the doorway, panting. Fury slowly gets out of his seat, eye wide.

“She… She got out,” Tony mutters, gesturing outside.

My body launches forward as I run into the hallway. People are running, an anxious chatter swarming around them as they pass just in front of me. As I push into the main hallway, elbows and chests are thrown into me. Flicking to each person, my eyes catch the room where ________ was held. The door is almost completely torn off the hinges- the wood cracked at the handle.

I start to push through the sea of people. Like water, they throw themselves against me- eager to leave the building and get the hell out of harm’s way. But as I make my way to the door and push out the other side of the tempest, I can see the dangling cuffs still hanging around the armrests.

My fingers graze the splintering wood door, tracing the ridges of where her fingers had dug into the wood- leaving grooves in the shape of her hand. The hinges look relatively new as they hang lifelessly off the wall. The debris littering the floor is kicked around, leaving a partial trail down the hallway. I follow with a solid grip on my shield.

“________?” I hiss, looking around the empty hallway. Everything is dimmed by the red lights and the screaming of the alarms haven’t stopped. “________!”

I round a corner and every adrenaline-fueled tension melts away. At the very end of the hallway is a floor-to-ceiling window. Broken glass lays at the base of a gaping hole.

She’s gone.

#captain america #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #captain america x platonic!reader #eventual relationship #slow burn #angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #nick fury #tony stark

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gguksgalaxy · 4 years

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Lily Luck | MYG | Soulmates

“You get five chances to meet your soulmate. Five opportunities to look them in the eyes and be overwhelmed with the feeling of love. To find a little red line around your pinky finger. Yet, the feeling dwindles with each missed opportunity. Each missed opportunity comes with a scar where that red line should be. It’s a game of fate and luck, and the latter doesn’t seem to be on your side.”

›› AU: Soulmates ›› Genre: Angst / Fluff ... I think? ›› Rating: R (implicit sexual content) ›› Pairing: MYG x Reader, MxM pairings ›› Word Count: 10.7k ›› Warnings Include: Swearing, alcohol use, romantic angst and anxiety, very slight implicit sexual content, a very drunk Jungkook, soulmate scars. This is not a nsfw 18+ fic! A/N: Hi there again, @spicykoreantatertots. Here it finally is! I hope that you enjoy what I did with the entire story. Thanks for talking to me a bit after I posted the teaser. It's what sparked my idea for the last scene ;) there's some stuff hidden there for you. Please enjoy! Happy late Valentine's day. — Lily, aka Gwaen.

Soulmates of the first mark are the most devoted. Their love is pure and all-consuming.

You’re late. It’s your first class of the semester and you’re terribly late. The worst part is that you got up at six in the morning to make it and you’re still late. As one of the only fifteen people to make it into this class you consider yourself lucky. But if you’re late you will also be promptly replaced by someone on the waiting list.

So you’re running, darting across campus because your train had been stuck at a red sign and made you just those five minutes late which could cost you your spot in this class. Out of breath, you swerve a corner, nearly tumbling over as the sole of your boot gets caught on the pavement. You shouldn’t have worn platforms.

You’re gonna make it. No matter what. Continuing your sprint towards the building at the south end of campus, you check the time on your phone. Four minutes left. You can d—

Colliding straight into someone’s chest, you topple forward. Your bag skirts over the stones and you curse out loud. The guy does the same, having landed straight on his backside with you sprawled over his lap.

You don’t have time for this. All you see before you scramble up is a messy mop of blonde hair and a very exotic — not messed up — bouquet of lilies.

“I’m sorry!” you rush, grabbing your bag and continuing your race to the classroom. Up the stairs to the building, through the revolving doors and into the elevator which — god bless — is downstairs.

There’s no way you’ll look presentable. Hair a mess, face red and sweaty, breathing ragged. But you’ll make it. You’ve worked yourself to the brim getting an 80% average to qualify for this class. Two years of agonising criminology and law courses, just for this class. The Criminal Law Clinic would give you much of the needed experience for working in the criminal law field once you graduate. That’s why everyone wants to take this class. It’s the only one that lets you tackle actual cases head on.

You walk inside with your water bottle half chugged down and coat slung around your arm. The teacher gives you a suspicious look, but you hold your head high. The man is notorious for being a real drill sergeant when it comes to this class.

There’s one seat left, beside a guy whom you know as Jung Hoseok. Fourth year law student. Took a gap year to be the head of activities at Moop, the criminology and criminal law student association. A terrible name, but a great association with a great team. Hoseok’s parties are still being talked about.

“Okay everyone, please take out the prepared material so we can get started,” the teacher says, standing up from this seat. “Today we’ll be discussing the setup for this clinic, as well as the first case and who will be second chair.” That’s everyone’s reason to be here. To get to sit next to him at a criminal law case in court and help win it. Hands on experience. “Each of you should’ve prepared a way to tackle this case, the one with the best defense will get the spot.”

You sigh calmly, trying not to freak out about arguing your case while you’re still recovering from your sprint. As you’re scrolling through your laptop to find the material, you notice a burning sensation on your hand. Have you scraped yourself during your fall? You frown, looking down and—

Right there on your pinky finger sits a small white scar. Neatly wrapped around the digit as if you had once worn a thin ring there.

A soulmate scar? No. That can’t be. Right?

Your eyes widen, vision blurring as you stare. A missed opportunity to bond with your soulmate. But why didn’t you notice? Everybody always says that when you pass them you feel a pull. One that makes you look back and lock eyes with them only to feel as if the world explodes into a thousand colours of fireworks and butterflies.

It takes one gaze into your soulmates eyes for you to bond. For a small red line to wrap itself around your pinky finger that will tie you together for all eternity. Yet once the opportunity is missed, and you don’t meet eyes despite being so close, a white scar appears. It signifies the damage upon your connection.

You shake, tears appearing in the corners of your eyes as you stare at the small scar on your finger. There’s a hollow feeling in your chest, like something is missing that was there before. Your gut twists with nausea, hands trembling as you touch the scar. A hiss passes your lips. It stings.

“Hey? Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. He must’ve followed your gaze to where you’re staring at your finger because he curses under his breath. “Okay, come on.” Looking up at the teacher, he speaks again. “Please excuse us.” He helps you stand up on wobbly legs. “She’s not feeling well, I’m just going to help her get some fresh air.”

The teacher calls something after you, but you don’t quite catch it as Hoseok leads you through the hallway to the outside seating area on the third floor.

You missed your soulmate. You had severed the line that was supposed to pull the two of you together and now that scar would be there forever. A painful reminder of the tear. Only four opportunities left to meet them, or you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life. Scolded by society too.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hoseok whispers, shaking you.

It’s only then that you realise the tears running down your cheeks. You sniffle, wiping them away. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, not even certain what for. Hoseok doesn’t know you, why would he take care of you like this. “Thanks for coming with me. You can go back to class.”

He shakes his head, handing you a water bottle. “I’m not going to leave you here to cry on your own.”

You thank him softly, taking a few sips from the bottle along with some deep breaths. The empty feeling remains, as if your soulmate had ripped your heart straight out of your chest. It still burns, the scar, and it gets worse the more you pay attention to it.

This is not a situation you ever thought you’d be in. You’ve always dreamed of having a first mark soulmate. Someone who would be devoted to you for the rest of your lives. Who would stand by your side and fight for you. An all-consuming love. You’ve seen it first hand — both your parents and your best friend are first mark soulmates. You will never have that. The opportunity has been robbed from you all because your train was late.

“What if I don’t find them?” you ask, completely disregarding that Hoseok shouldn’t have to answer such questions from you.

Hoseok smiles, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “You will. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you will find them.”

Can you believe that? “Not everyone finds them.”

“There’s no reason to worry about that while you’ve still got four opportunities left.” Hoseok shifts a little closer, showing you his hand with his palm facing upwards.

His skin is tan, long slender fingers seemingly soft even if you haven’t touched them. And there, around his pinky and ring finger, sit two white scars. He missed them twice? Most people meet their soulmate on the first or second encounter. Set up for life with a devoted lover. Yet some take longer to find the bond that by then will have dwindled with each meeting.

“I promise that the pain will go away, and that numb, empty feeling in your chest will too. Just give it some time, they will cross your path once again.” Hoseok’s voice is soothing, and he gives you another hopeful smile as your eyes flicker between your hand and his. “Don’t let people tell you anything different. Fate will bless you on another day.”

You suppose he’s right.

Soulmates of the second mark are the most passionate. Their love is vibrant and fervent.

“I really think you’re going to be fine,” Namjoon says from the other end of the phone. “You’re not the first person to not meet their soulmate on the first encounter, and you’re certainly not the last either.”

Currently you’re sitting on a bench in the train station, waiting for your train home. It’s been over a month since the first encounter you had with your soulmate. The first missed opportunity. Hoseok had been right, the pain and the numbness went away. But it wasn’t easy.

“I think Namjoon is right,” Jungkook, your roommate, says.

You huff. “Easy for the two of you to say. One of you has been with their soulmate for six months now, and the other one hasn’t crossed paths with them yet.”

“Just because Jin and I are first mark lovers doesn’t mean that I can’t give you advice,” Namjoon counters. The two of you have been best friends since high school, went into college together and shared a condo for four years. Until he met his soulmate last May, and decided to immediately move in with him. If Jungkook, your mutual friend, hadn’t offered to move in with you, you would’ve made more of a problem out of Namjoon ditching you. Jungkook may be a bit of a mess, but as far as Namjoon knows Jungkook is a perfect roommate.

The younger lets out an exasperated groan, probably playing a videogame in the background while you’re on group call. “Okay, but I get where she’s coming from.”

“I also don’t want your advice.”

“Excuse me!” Jungkook asserts. “I did nothing wrong!”

You roll your eyes even if he can’t see you. “Why don’t you come back to me once you’ve had your first encounter.” The harsh words roll of your tongue like acid, burning in the back of your mouth. Frankly, you’ve had enough of everyone trying to console you or care for you. Especially when they don’t know what it’s like.

“Hey,” Namjoon interjects as you get up to go to your train that should soon be arriving. “Jungkook took care of you while you were too devastated to eat properly. He deserves a little more credit, don’t you think?”

It’s true. When you’d come home after class — which you sat through with tears brimming your eyes — Jungkook had already been waiting for you with your favourite cup noodles and some good old snuggles. He’d made sure you ate at least twice a day and didn’t lock yourself in your bedroom to wallow in self-pity.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Okay, hold on.” The train rushes by, swallowing the sound of your friends’ voices and everything else around you. The wind whips your hair into your face, causing it to stick to the light layer of gloss on your lips.

It stops. Doors opening, people exiting as you wait leaning against the side of the escalator. When you enter, one foot on the steps, you feel it.

It’s like a hand wraps itself around your chest, warm and comforting yet demanding at the same time. You frown for a second, stilling amidst the people trying to get to a seat.

Whipping your head around, you gasp. Frantically you try to push back through the group of people behind you. Heart pounding in your ears, hand burning by your side with the impending tear of your red string of fate. From the stairs you scan the crowd of people on the platform. You don’t even know what they look like, but they must be looking for you too, right?

There’s one person standing too still amongst the mass. He seems to be a young man, black baseball cap covering his eyes, but you catch sight of blonde hair at the nape of his neck when he turns around. In his hand, he holds a single bright pink flower.

A lily. Just like the ones from the bouquet of the man you ran into.

It’s him.

You run. Bumping into bodies as the burning around your ring finger intensifies. If you knew his name, you’d call out for him. All you can do is try to reach where he was standing. You can feel his presence as you reach the exact spot. But he’s not here.

Anxiously you look around, trying to see where he went. There’s less people now, but the black baseball cap is nowhere to be found.

A flash of pink.

You turn around, to catch him jumping into the train right as the doors slide shut with the whistle of the conductor.

Tears in your eyes, you stand defeated while the train departs. Your hand burns, and you look to find the second white line. It doesn’t hurt as bad as the first one, but your heart still claws inside your chest. Hollow, defeated, alone.

That’s when you realise that your phone is still on call with Namjoon and Jungkook. You shakily lift the device to your ear. “Guys?”

“Thank God! I thought you’d died or something!” Jungkook exclaims.

Namjoon chuckles. “What happened? We heard a bunch of bumping and shuffling around you.”

You take a trembling breath. A weak attempt to stop yourself from crying in public as the train has disappeared from your view. “He was here.”

“Wait, what?” Jungkook gasps. “Who? Your soulmate? Did you catch him? Wait, was it even a guy?”

Words lay on your tongue but they’re held back by the lump that sits heavily in your throat.

“Jungkook, calm down,” Namjoon shushes him. “Are you okay?” he asks you.

“He’s gone,” you croak, looking at the timetable of the trains. The one home had now long departed, and the next one wasn’t for another hour.

Namjoon sighs softly. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll find them. Did you see what they looked like?”

“No,” you mumble as you plop down onto the same bench as before. “He was wearing all black, a baseball cap, and I think he had blonde hair but that’s all I caught.”

“It’s a guy?” Jungkook questions again.

“Yeah...I think at least. They looked like a guy from behind. I don’t know what to do guys. I was rushing for my train and he was waiting on the platform for another train and I just completely missed him. When I went looking, he was entering and the doors shut on me. I was so close,” you whimper, hang covering your mouth. “So close.”

Jungkook and Namjoon are both silent for a few seconds, the sound of your roommate’s game suddenly cutting off.

The youngest speaks first. “Did you miss your train?”

“Yeah, th-the next one’s in an hour.”

“I’ll come pick you up,” Namjoon offers. “Jungkook, you order some food. We’ll be there in half an hour. I’m picking you up from the south end, Y/N.”

Jungkook hums an affirmation. “It’s going to be okay Y/N, I promise.”

“Thanks guys,” you say, wiping your tears. The call ends, and you’re left along with the dissipating emptiness in your chest.

You know that you’re supposed to have hope. That fate gives you five opportunities for a reason. But you can’t help it. You curse lady luck for damning you like this. For playing such a cruel game with your heart. Why can’t the two of you just run into each other at the grocery store like your parents did. Or at the park, like Jin and Namjoon.

To pass each other and have the moment of feeling that urge to turn around and look back. Meeting eyes. Falling in love at first sight like the legends say. To be happy forever.

You’re aware of the implications of having a third mark soulmate, or worse. That they won’t love you the same. That they won’t be as devoted. That unlike first and second mark lovers, they won’t just have eyes for you.

All you want is the love you’ve always dreamt of. To have someone to come home to who will love you no matter what. Even with three opportunities still on the horizon, you feel like that has already been robbed from you. Cruelly pulled from your fingers. You know it'll be harder to find him the more opportunities pass. The pull will lessen each time until it fades. The fact that you hadn’t felt it at its strongest, you —

You kiss the new scar on your ring finger, holding back more tears as you go to wait for Namjoon.

Soulmates of the third mark are the most sincere. Their love is playful and profound.

You stare at the marks on your fingers, digits halted on the spines of the books in the library. Hoseok had been right, the pain had again faded. This time though, it had hurt for longer. Or well, that’s what you thought at least. Namjoon’s boyfriend, Seokjin, had told you that it might’ve been because you were so upset.

That was a serious understatement. It’s been about four months since then, a total of nearly six since you first ran into him. You haven’t been okay since. Namjoon and Jungkook have been bending over backward to make sure that you’re okay. Even when the younger himself now had a first scar too.

He’s hopeful though, in a way you wish you could be. Namjoon has always said that Jungkook is a hopeless romantic, and it’s true. Your roommate had seemed a little shaken by the occurrence but had shrugged it off, saying nothing more than “it must’ve not been the right time”.

You sigh, shaking the thought. If anything you could learn something from Jungkook. Even if you have one scar more than him. The timing wasn’t right, but it will be. Eventually.

There’s not much you know now other than the blonde colour of his hair and the lily he’d been holding. After some research you’d found out it had been a Lily of the Incas. Not that that gave you any more information about him. He also hadn’t seemed awfully tall, but that could’ve been deceiving.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s been looking out for you the way you’ve been looking out for him. Does he know what you look like? Does he care as much as you do? Maybe he feels the same amount of distress and pain that you’ve been feeling.

No. You want him to be happy and keep moving. Your heart aches at the thought of him hurting even when you’ve never met. Was that the bond? Or just your mind playing tricks?

Despite the mess in your mind, you manage to find the book you were looking for.

You grab it from the shelf and startle as the sudden sight of someone’s face on the other side of the shelf. Holding the book tightly against your chest as you turn. You hate it when that happens.

That’s when your phone decides to start blaring on it’s loudest setting. You curse under your breath, dropping your book in your haste of trying to turn the device off. With your heart pounding in your ears you catch sight of Jungkook’s name on the screen before it silences.

On the other side of the library the woman behind the desk is shooting you an angry glare, and you notice she’s not the only one staring at you. Your ears burn red along with your cheeks as you grab the book from the floor.

You’re about to move back over to the desk when the phone rings again, seemingly even louder this time. Nearly dropping your stuff again. You’re so rushed that you pick up instead of hang up. With anxiety blazing through your veins you put the book on the shelf and opt for the exit.

Once outside, your heart calms slightly and you finally lift the phone to your ear.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Don’t swear at me! This is an emergency woman!” Jungkook exclaims loudly.

You roll your eyes, making way for your car. There’s no way you can show yourself there again. At least, not today. You’ll just have to come back tomorrow.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Yes! I was at the library you fool. Everyone stared at me.”

Jungkook laughs. At least he can see the fun in this. You connect your phone to the car, now hearing his voice through the speakers. “Okay, but is it my fault that you didn’t put your phone on silent?”

Starting the car, you turn off the parking lot. “Tell me what you want or I will hang up on you.”

“As I said, it’s an emergency.” Jungkook’s pause is followed by rustling and crunching. “I have an exam tomorrow and we’re all out of Cheetos and Redbull and like how the fuck am I going to get through the night?”

You snort. “Have you ever thought of starting early so you don’t have to pull an all-nighter?”

“I have. It’s just not my vibe you know?” Jungkook sighs as something falls to the floor. “So can you please help a guy out?”

“On one condition,” you say as you’re already turning into the street towards the grocery store.

He lets out an exasperated sound. “Anything for Cheetos.”

Jungkook’s antics might annoy the living hell out of you from time to time, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. A lightness in your days is what you need the most right now. “Please pick up this book I need for my revisions after your exam.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Have you been to the library before?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been inside the library?”

“Maybe.”

You sigh, parking the car. The second you turn off your engine you feel it. Like the veil gets pulled and all that is left, is the excruciating burning sensation in your middle finger.

No. No. It can’t be. “Jungkook?”

“I promise I will get your book. Don’t worry, I know how libraries work.”

“No, Jungko—“

“I swear! Just get me my Cheetos, please.” The pout in his voice is evident despite your own pain. As is the stress you know he’s trying to cover up. Jungkook’s got enough on his plate tonight.

You mumble a trembling affirmation. “Anything else I can get you?” Squeezing your middle finger, you try to stave off the pain and impending tears as you lean back in your chair.

Jungkook pauses, and you have to cover up your mouth to stifle a sob.

“Spicy noodles, two cups.”

“Okay, I’ll be home soon.” You hang up, tears running down your face and neck. One hard punch delivered to the steering wheel makes the car horn go off. Drawing the attention of people near. You don’t notice with your eyes closing tightly.

You need — Fumbling for your phone, you unlock it and slide over the screen for Namjoon’s number. It rings on speaker, device laying in your lap as you trace the painful scar. Why does it hurt this much?

“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon answers.

You breathe, trying to catch yourself from falling before you tell him. But nothing coherent comes out. “Joon, ‘t hurts.”

He curses under his breath. “Door’s open.”

Soulmates of the fourth mark are the most compassionate. Their love is secure and easy-going.

Today’s the first time you and Seokjin are hanging out alone. No Namjoon. He’s nice, although you’re a little suspicious as to why he was so keen on taking you out today.

It’s April, seven months since you got your first soulmate scar. At this point it’s kind of settled. The anxiety and the impatience. Namjoon would claim your attitude hasn’t improved though. You’d gone from frantic hopelessness to complete disregard and it was a slippery slope. Or so he said.

“So why are you taking me out to meet your friend?” you ask the man beside you.

Seokjin smiles, running a hand through his nearly-black hair. “You’ll see when we get there. If I tell you, you’re gonna put up a fight. Namjoon mentioned you have a tendency to be quite...uncooperative.”

You snort. “Whatever you say.”

He stops. You have to halt your own movements and turn back to look at him. Seokjin’s got an unreadable expression on his face, staring intently at you as you wait for him to catch back up. “You need to get your head out of your ass.”

“What?”

“You’re acting like the entire world is against you just because you haven’t been able to find your soulmate yet. You’re not the first person to find them at the fourth or fifth mark and you won’t be the last. It’s not going to change anything.” He speaks firmly, walking past you.

You move, opening your mouth to speak but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“One word about me and Joon being first mark soulmates and I’m leaving you stranded. It’s unfair for you to use that as an argument against him. Every single time you tell him that he wouldn’t understand because he has me, he starts feeling more and more bad about himself and what we have. I get that you’re hurting but it has to stop.”

“Oh,” you mumble, hanging your head as you continue to follow Seokjin down the street. Anxiety flecks in the corners of your vision. You know that your comments have struck a wrong chord with Namjoon. The two of you have gotten into multiple fights over the past months because of it. You didn’t realise that it was weighing so heavily on him that it was affecting his relationship with Jin. “I’m sorry.”

Seokjin nods. “I’m not the one who needs to hear that.”

“Still.”

“I know,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder. “As I said, I understand where you’re coming from. You just need someone to talk some serious sense into you. Jungkook’s too much of a hopeless romantic to give you any real advice and Namjoon is too afraid of hurting you. So now you have me.” He clasps a hand over your shoulder and smiles.

You weakly return it, and stop as he does, in front of a small flower shop on the corner of a busy street. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. We’re here.”

Jin really cares about Namjoon. You hope that your soulmate will love you the same. Even though a fifth of fourth mark might not be the same as a first.

He leads you inside. The heavy scent of flowers and wet soil hits you. It’s sweet, but overwhelming, making you scrunch up your nose. The inside of the shop is very cosy. Flowers blooming colourfully along the walls in pots set on the table. Organised, in a messy but still somehow coherent way.

“Jin!” a young man calls from behind the counter, black hair falling messily over his eyes in unkempt curls. “I was just about to call you!”

“Hey Tae! Where’s your boyfriend?” Jin looks around while walking over to him.

Tae sighs. “He just left, something came up and he had to go.”

You frown as Jin lets out an annoyed sound. “I said this was important.”

The other just shrugs. “So was this apparently, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Taehyung.”

Taehyung.

You feel as if you’ve heard Namjoon mention his name before. He smiles at you. There’s dirt staining his hands and a red streak — of what you assume is ink — on his cheek.

“Y/N, this is Taehyung. He’s a family friend of mine and the owner of this store.”

You look around now wide-eyed, glancing over at the roses, peonies and daisies. “You own this place?”

He nods excitedly, moving go wash his hands at the sink in the corner. “Yeah, the shop’s almost a year old now. Business is pretty good. My boyfriend helps me run it where he has time between his uni schedule. He mainly takes care of the boring, administrative stuff.”

You chuckle as he washes his hands while Seokjin moves towards the coffee machine in the back like he owns the place.

“Coffee?” He asks you, turning on the kettle..

“Yeah sure.”

Taehyung calls back that he wants tea. There’s something comfortable and warm about the way he smiles. His presence is a little all over the place though. Currently nudging open a drawer with his elbow to find a towel so he can dry his hands. When he locates the white cloth, you notice the white lines circling his fingers.

And then you see the red mark around his thumb. A fifth mark.

“You and your boyfriend are soulmates?” you blurt out.

He turns to face you, wide grin stretching over his face. Showing white teeth and full cheeks. “Yeah. Seokjin actually came here for him.” He shoots the elder a look over your shoulder. “Apparently I’m not as interesting.”

“You’re not the one who wrote a Bachelor’s thesis on soulmate statistics and the true meaning of the mark order!” Seokjin counters with a pitched voice.

“Wait, what? Why are we here?” you ask, brown furrowing when Seokjin sets a cup of coffee and a cup of tea on the desk. “Jin?”

He rolls his eyes. “I was going to have Taehyung’s boyfriend talk some sense into you. That’s all. Just thought that if you wouldn’t believe us, maybe you’d believe science.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head as he grabs his tea with both hands. “Science, science,” he waves Jin off. “We all know science isn’t going to make her feel better.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re even more of a hopeless romantic than Jungkook is. It was worth a try,” Jin shrugs.

“Okay, let’s not talk about me as if I’m not here.” You don’t know whether you’re more confused or upset at this point.

There’s a ding of a bell, and all three of you look up to see a couple walk into the store. Taehyung excuses himself, going up to greet them.

Seokjin gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“Ask him,” he whisper-yells. “You saw his mark. Ask him whatever you want, he won’t mind.”

You swallow thickly. He is right. You are curious. You want to know whether Taehyung and his boyfriend knew when they met. How in love they are. If it’s different.

Taehyung returns. Startling you by placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “You know that you’re going to be okay, right?”

“Huh?”

He gestures towards your hand where you’re absentmindedly scratching the scars on your fingers. “You’ll find them, and you’ll fall in love and everything will be okay. I know it’s hard, but try not to worry so much.”

You shiver. “What if I don’t, though?”

Taehyung gives you an apologetic look. “I worried about that, when I got my fourth mark. I felt beyond lucky when I finally found him. But it’s not all what society makes it out to be. Fifth mark soulmates shouldn’t be regarded as rare. They’re definitely not as uncommon as people who don’t find their soulmate at all. You still have the odds in your favour.”

“Science?” you question.

He grins. “That. And experience.”

“But—“ you start, cut off by another ring of the doorbell. Taehyung sighs and mumbles something, going to help the man. The couple is still roaming around.

Seokjin gives you a light shove. “See.”

You lean against the counter. “I don’t know, Seokjin. What if it’s not the same?”

“Just because society is hell-bent on making us believe that fifth mark soulmates aren’t worthwhile, doesn’t mean that they’re right. Fourth mark lovers are known for being compassionate, fifth for being patient. Those aren’t bad qualities. The big words attached to the first mark love doesn’t mean that the love is any stronger. Trust me, Taehyung and his boyfriend are way more disgusting than me and Joon.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you retort. “The amount of times I’ve almost wa—“

“Okay, we are in public. Please let me retain some integrity.”

Taehyung leaves the black-haired man who stands by the lilies. His hand reaches out to touch them. They remind you of your soulmate, and you briefly consider getting a few to take home.

There’s a spring in Taehyung’s step. He tilts his head as he eyes you. “What are you most worried about?”

You trace the scar on your middle finger, thinking hard about the right answer. “That they won’t love me?”

The warm smile that he gives you says enough. “This might come as a shock for you to hear, but it takes a while for soulmates to truly fall in love. That goes for all of us.”

Eyes widening, you turn to Seokjin. “He’s right,” he answers.

Taehyung takes another sip of his tea, long fingers curled around the pink mug. “First and second mark soulmates feel as if they’re instantaneously in love because they get overwhelmed with the feeling that comes with finding your soulmate so soon. But that’s excitement. It’s not the kind of love you are worried about.

“The feeling that you’re so worried about takes time to develop. For some longer than others. Just remember that you were meant to be, and that they will love you even if it takes some time. No matter what.” The sweet, gentle smile doesn’t leave his eyes as he speaks. It’s almost as if he’s remembering something.

He seems so in love. So happy. You yearn to have that too. “You really love him, don’t you? Your soulmate?”

He nods, brushing his curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “With my entire being.”

Your heart swells at the way his eyes twinkle while thinking of his soulmate. Sure, you’ve been around Namjoon and Seokjin long enough to know they love each other. But it never looked like this. So simple and pure.

“How did you know?” you ask finally.

“That I was in love with him?”

“No,” you shake your head, finishing your coffee as yet another person enters the store.

Taehyung looks up at them. “I’ll be with you in a second!” he calls out to the guy, who waves politely. Then, his eyes fall back on you, waiting for your question.

“How did you know it was him?” you ask, briefly glancing at Seokjin who’s just silently watching you grill Taehyung about his love life. Though, he gives you an affirmative nod. “Because they say that there’s no pull, no fireworks. I barely felt the pull last time, so how will I know who it is?”

“Ah,” Taehyung grins. “You’re sort of right. There were no fireworks. I am no expert on this matter, but I think that the feeling kind of develops more so than dwindles, each time you meet. When we finally bonded, I first and foremost felt the mark. It was like a warm and fuzzy feeling, like tingling. Nothing like the burn of the scars.” He pauses, brushing his fingers over the little red line on his thumb. It stands out against his tan skin, shifting as he sets down the mug.

No fireworks or pain sounds okay. Yet you wonder how he knew who it was if that wasn’t there. “Is it really just...different?”

“Your heart will know,” he continues. “I didn’t know as soon as I locked eyes with him, but when he came over and smiled at me I felt like I was coming home.” He places a hand over yours where you’re gripping the table. “To me that feeling trumps fireworks.”

Seokjin huffs. “You sap.” He turns to you. “I’d like to add that he cried for an hour straight afterward.”

A flush creeps up Taehyung’s neck. “That’s beside the point.”

“Sure,” your friend muses smugly. “Just trying to warn her that it can still be overwhelming even if the world doesn’t erupt in a bunch of glitter.”

You nod, smile stretching at your lips, reassured. Taehyung seems truthful. He seems so in love and content with where he is. Unbothered by what everybody says about fifth mark lovers. His happiness makes you feel a little better about what might be to come.

Even if you find your soulmate late. Even if you have to retrace your steps after the fifth mark —You will find him and he will love you. No matter what.

The bells rings again, three more people filing in and causing Taehyung to groan. “I’m sorry guys, I really have to get back to work.”

“That’s okay,” Jin says. “We have to pick Namjoon up anyway.”

The florist nods, hugging Jin and then — to your surprise — hugging you too. “Stay hopeful,” he whispers.

You shoot him an honest smile, thanking him as you wave him goodbye. Jin and you push past the people standing by the roses, having an avid discussion about whether pink or crimson is a better choice. You chuckle.

Once outside, you breathe in the clear air. “He’s nice,” you say.

Seokjin shakes his head with a laugh. “I can’t believe you’d listen to Taehyung out of all people.”

“He was pretty convincing.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a success. Stop worrying, and look ahead. You have a future full of love waiting for you.” Jin goes to pull you in for a hug, when he stops and stares. “Wait, your hand.”

You look down, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets when you see the fourth scar on your finger. Yet, this time there is no pain or hollowness in your chest. “I...”

“Come,” Seokjin grabs your wrist and pulls you back inside. There, you look at the people you pushed past. Two woman, one man. But the man already has a soulmate mark on his ring finger.

Taehyung looks up and meets your frightened eyes. “Is everything okay?”

You hold up your hand and he gasps.

All you can do is shake your head, looking over to the man in the far corner. Even his soulmate mark is clear from this distance. All of the people inside have soulmate marks, or less scars than you. Then...

“The guy!” You stumble as you turn to look at Jin. “The black haired guy by the lilies! It must’ve been him.”

Taehyung joins you. “The one from earlier? I didn’t catch his name, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath to hold yourself together. “It’s fine.” That’s when you start to feel the slight burn. It rises along with the bile in your throat. Looking at your hand, you know that now everything hangs by a thread.

Only one encounter left

One encounter to find the man with now black hair who seems to love lilies.

Soulmates of the fifth mark are the most patient. Their love is tender and serene.

“I regret my decisions,” you grumble under your breath as Namjoon pulls you along towards where the party is already in full swing.

Apparently Hoseok had pulled a few strings and one of the university dorm buildings now had their courtyard turned into a gigantic club. Music thrums in your ears, lights flashing as you follow your best friend into the crowd.

“You need to get out of the house more often,” Namjoon says close to your ear. “Jungkook should be here somewhere too.”

You whine. This isn’t your scene. Or well — not anymore. It used to be when you were in the first year of university. Your wild phase. But now that you have your thesis looming over your head, you really can’t be bothered to get drunk on a regular basis. Unlike Jungkook, whom you often had to guide to his bed in the middle of the night.

Namjoon is right though. You haven’t really been going out a lot lately and it wasn’t doing you any good. Taehyung’s words have impacted you, you haven’t lost hope. Instead, you just feel incredibly lonely.

Jungkook is seeing this random girl. Seeing meaning fucking. So he’s out of the house quite a lot. Namjoon and Jin too. They’ve been planning to go on a long holiday over the summer, so they’re gathering supplies and getting everything in order. You know they would make time for you. It’s just not that easy to ask.

Even if you’ve never really met your soulmate, you feel like they’re missing. Like you’ve had them and they’re now gone. That strange hollow feeling in your chest is always on the back of your mind. Nagging. Body aching to be held. To be warm. Home.

“Okay, you’re zoning out,” Namjoon gives you a little shove. “Let’s get drinks.”

Soon, you find yourself in the crowd, dancing with a beer in your hand. It’s easier to lose yourself when everyone else is, following the music as it guides you. You laugh at Namjoon. He’s not the most coordinated person, but he’s having fun at least. It makes you smile, to see him smile.

A pair of arm snakes around your waist, body stumbling into yours from behind. Followed by a whiny drawl of your name and a wet brush of lips over your neck.

“Jungkook!” You squeal, pushing him off with a scowl. It takes one look at him to know that he’s already too drunk. “Dude, are you like, okay?”

He nods, smile as bright as ever, but eyes glassy and cheeks red. “M fine. Very fine. Much fine.”

Namjoon grabs him by the arm when he starts swaying on his feet. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Dunno,” he giggles. “Five...teen? Where’s Jin?”

“Not here,” your friend answers, hand firm around Jungkook’s upper arm. “When did you start drinking?”

You feel a little bad for the younger. There’s no way he’s going to make it through the entire night, probably not even another hour. The boy might be able to hold some liquor, but even he has his limits.

“He was here for the set up,” you state.

“Hmm, was fun.”

“Jungkook! Don’t wander off like that.” A voice calls. From the crowd a young man with jet black hair appears. Full lips and a beautiful smile as he hugs Jungkook close to him. “God, you stink,” he grumbles, giving Jungkook a once-over. “You, my man, are cut off for tonight.”

Jungkook whines, pout on his lips but no fight left in his body. He keeps his arms wrapped around Jimin’s neck.

Then, Jimin turns to you. “You must be the infamous roommate? I’m Jimin.” Jimin’s wearing a white t-shirt with a deep cut v-neck where a pendant dangles against his tan skin. The fabric falls past his hips. Just shy of the waistband of his jeans, revealing a sliver of skin.

His smile is friendly — handsome — so you return it as you shake his outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Namjoon gives him a short wave.

“Say,” Jimin laughs as Jungkook leans into his chest, now just hugging him. “I’m going to get the kid some fresh air, would you mind fetching him some water.”

“I’ll come,” Namjoon says to Jimin, grabbing for Jungkook’s other side. “We’ll be at the south end, where we came in,” he says to you.

You nod, watching them go and quickly turning to head for the bar.

Your entire chest is cold before you realise what happened and you bump into someone.

“Shit,” a deep voice sounds.

Looking down you notice that your light blue shirt is now dark — is that red wine? The stain spreads over your chest and side. You look up to meet eyes with the stranger who is absolutely mortified at the sight of your ruined shirt.

“God, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You’re uncertain of what to do, looking between him and your top. “I — It’ll be fine I’ll go rinse it in the bathroom or something.” The shirt sticks to your skin. His is stained too, but it’s not as noticeable on the grey fabric that frames his chest.

He shakes his head, black hair falling behind the frame of his round glasses. Eyes brown, warm yet sharp. “No, it won’t be. It’s not just going to come out.”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Thanks. That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Yeah, uh,” he pauses, rubbing the back of his head. His arm flexes, black leather jacket raising and stretching the tucked-in fabric of his shirt over his frame. He’s attractive, you note. “I’m not trying to be weird but,” he falters, “I live on the third floor, if you want I can give it a quick soak.”

“And go topless?” You deadpan.

“No.” His voice is jolty, eyes widening briefly. Strangely, the leather jacket, messy hair and — is that a choker around his neck? “You could borrow a shirt of mine, really, it’s no big deal. I’m so sorry.”

Is he really offering you to lend you a shirt and clean yours at a college party when you don’t know him? “I —“

“Yoongi! Y/N!” That familiar voice. Hoseok appears from behind you, a drink in his hand and cheeks flushed with the effects of it. “What’s — ew. What happened?” He stares at the stain on your chest. If it wasn’t for that stain you’d have whacked him over the head. “Is that red wine?”

Both you and the guy who’s apparently called Yoongi, nod in unison, causing Hoseok to let out a weird sound.

“Yoongs, I can't believe you brought red wine to my party.”

Yoongi shrugs. “It’s my money.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, looking at your shirt again. “That’s gonna stain.”

“I know, your friend here offered to lend me a shirt,” you say with a nervous chuckle, giving Yoongi another look. “Can I trust him? Or is he gonna murder me as soon as he gets me alone?” Over the past year, you’ve gotten to know Hoseok well through spending time together studying for Law Clinic. You’ll trust him for this.

He gives you a grin, one that seems to hold implications of a less friendly nature. “Trust Yoongi? I mean, he wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Hoseok pauses with his eyes on his friend, and then he leans into your ear. “Unless you asked him to.”

“Okay!” you yelp, pushing him away from you while Yoongi sends Hoseok a glare. “This thing is starting to stick, and it reeks. I’ll take you up on your offer, let’s go.”

Yoongi smiles, shaking his head. “Come on,” he motions for you to follow. Leaving Hoseok behind in the crowd, he pushes towards the main entrance. Unlocking the door and leading you inside.

“What did Hoseok just say to you?” he questions.

Your cheeks flush as you enter the elevator. “You don’t want to know.”

“If he said something about the incident with the peanut butter, I just want to say that I’m innocent,” he says with horror crossing his expression

“What?”

You laugh, exiting the elevator before him. “He didn’t say anything about peanut butter, but now you’ve piqued my interest.”

“Forget I mentioned it,” he says with an awkward smile.

“Maybe,” you hum, letting him struggle with his key at his front door. “Or I’ll bring it up some other time.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know Hoseok though. I could ask him.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow as he blocks the entrance. “You wouldn’t.”

“Give me that shirt you talked about and we will see if I can have mercy on you.”

He gives in and lets you enter. The apartment is small, one of the single studios in the complex. It seems cozy, a little messy but it's nothing you’re used to from being a student yourself. A bed sits in the corner by the window, an electrical piano at the foot of it.

You watch as Yoongi walks towards the dresser, swiftly pulling out a black t-shirt that’s neatly folded. A clothes bag hangs over the side, probably holding a suit. Is he graduating this year?

“Here,” he hands you the shirt.

It’s soft, certainly not cheap by any means. “Thanks, where’s—“

“There,” he says, pointing at the door by the entrance. “There’s washcloths in the cabinet under the sink if you want one.”

You awkwardly stand in the middle of his apartment, uncertain of your actions. Yoongi is nice, attractive, a little hesitant but certainly not shy. Turning to the bathroom, you notice the sheet music sprawled over the bedsheets and the bouquet of flowers on the kitchen counter.

“I’m really sorry, again,” he says sheepishly.

“It happens, don’t worry.” It’s not the first time a piece of your clothing has gotten ruined by a spilled drink. You can’t be bothered to get upset over it.

The bathroom is small, a little cramped even. Nothing more than a curtain to stop the entire place from getting wet when the shower turns on. Student accommodation at its finest. It might be cheap and convenient, but you’re not getting any special treatment. Which is why you were so adamant on moving in with Namjoon when you started your degree.

Under the sink, you find a neat stack of light blue washcloths. To your surprise they’re soft, certainly dried in a dryer and not on a rack. You run it under the tap, squeezing out the excess water before pulling your shirt over your head.

“Yoongi,” you call, creaking open the door a little. “Were you going to soak my top?”

“If you want me to. It’s worth a try to get the stain out.” Like this, with the thumping of the bass merely a background ruffle, you notice the rasp in his voice. Deeper than you’d originally thought.

You hold the shirt out through the door. “Here.”

His hand grazes yours as he takes hold of the soiled fabric. Long fingers grazing yours. Pausing. He holds you and you feel your heart skip. Then, he lets go, not saying another word.

Trying to be quick, as to not inconvenience Yoongi any further, you swipe the washcloth against your red-stained skin. It’s sticky more than anything. The smell of red wine pungent. You’ve never liked it, wondering how he stands it. Rubbing the cloth over the small stain on your jeans is futile. It’ll need a wash.

You rinse the washcloth with warm water, leaving it over the edge to dry. His hand soap smells of vanilla and coconut, and you thoroughly scrub your hands.

No.

With the water still running over your hands, you stare. Blinking. At first you try to rub the little red line on your thumb. Thinking it’s a stain. But it’s not coming off no matter how hard you rub it.

Your soulmate mark.

A fuzzy, warm sensation as you touch it. Heart clenching, thumping loudly and overtaking the buzz of the music.

Who? It happened tonight, after you’d arrived.

Jimin! You gasp at the realisation

Hastily pulling on Yoongi’s shirt, you throw open the bathroom door. “Thank you!” you call, quick to leave. “I gotta go!” You give him no time to reply, darting out the front door.

The music envelops you, and you lean over the railing to look. Where did Namjoon say they would be again? South end, right?

You nod to yourself, chest heavy with anticipation of finally meeting him.

A voice passes you by as you start to run again. You’re startled by a hand clasping around your wrist.

You’re stopped, unceremoniously pulled back into someone’s chest. “No, listen, I—“

“Like hell I’m letting you slip between my fingers again,” Yoongi speaks.

You meet his expectant gaze that lower to where his fingers encase your wrist. His heart is pounding louder than yours, right below where your other hand had landed on his chest. Fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, you stare.

It’s hard to miss the red line around his thumb where it brushes up to touch your own fingers. Everything suddenly is set ablaze, right at he touches your mark. It’s when you know...

You’ve come home.

Yoongi lets out a deep sigh that resonates within you.

“Finally,” he whispers, suddenly pulling you close to press his nose into your hair.

You hiccup, tears suddenly falling at the disbelief. Yoongi is your soulmate. It’s not even a suspicion. It’s a certainty. A warmth that spreads through your entire being as you let him wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your own hands splayed over his chest, hearts beating in sync.

“It’s okay,” he says with his lips lowered to your temple.

He smells like red wine and cologne, tinged with something that could be coffee, or chocolate. You inhale deeply. This is him, your soulmate. Just that feeling alone comforts the ache you’ve been feeling, dulling it to something that’s still overwhelming.

Yoongi pulls away, cupping your cheeks to have you look up at him. “At university, when you were running to class. At the station. The library. The flower shop?”

You nod, winding your arms around his neck. Fingers brushing through his hair.

His eyes are a deep brown, lashes framing them with what may be a hint of eyeliner or eyeshadow. Does it even matter when looking into his eyes makes you feel like nothing else exists but him?

A strangled sound leaves your throat, unsure of what to say, but knowing all too well what to do. You pull him down. Lips crashing together in the heat of the moment.

Yoongi gasps, but he doesn’t falter. Hands catching your back as he stumbles, pressing you up against the wall. He tastes like red wine too, but you’ll forgive it because it’s him.

His lips are soft, moving over yours as if you’ve had years to practice. Fingers digging into all the right places. Your hips, your waist, the top of your thighs. A grin against your mouth, and a huff against your cheek as you lean in further. You trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, and he lets you in without missing a beat.

Bliss. Euphoria. It overcomes you — grounds you in the way you’ve needed all this time. He grounds you. Holding you against him, fitting precisely like he was made for you. Maybe he was.

He swipes his tongue over yours, tilting your head back just a little further. Cradling you with his hand so you don’t collide with the wall. But it puts you at his mercy, making you keen.

At the sound, he parts, panting and resting his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” you breathe.

He chuckles, cheeky grin pulling at one corner of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, now he gets cocky.”

Yoongi leans in again, brushing his lips over yours. “It’s not every day that you get to kiss your soulmate for the first time,” he whispers. “But I can give you a wow too, if you want.”

Your ears heat up along with your already red cheeks. Fingers still holding tightly onto the lapels of his leather jacket, you bite your lip. “What now?”

He thumbs are your bottom lip, pulling it free. A little entranced, eyes zoning in. “I could think of a few things.”

“Hey!” You slap his arm. “We may be bound by fate, but I’m not having sex with you before you take me out on a date.”

He rubs his arm with a scrunched up nose. “That’s not what I meant!”

You sigh, followed by a chuckle, unable to remove the smile that is making your cheeks hurt. His eyes still shine though, even when he gives you a pout.

“Then what?” you ask.

He shrugs, suddenly a little shy in the way he brushes your hair over your shoulder. Hand trailing down your arm to brush the line on your thumb as if his body already knows where it is better than you do.

“Call me cheesy,” he mumbles while taking your hand and brushing your thumb against his lips. Veins line his fingers, and it’s now that you notice how soft his hands are. “But I really just want to hold you and wake up beside you.”

How could you possibly say no to the shy, gummy smile that appears on his face. You know you can trust him, deep within your soul. You know you want him. Your body aches to be near him. So you kiss him again. “I think that can be arranged,” you mumble against his mouth.

But in the end, love is what is at the core of all soulmate relationships.

Yoongi hums against your bare shoulder, one of your legs lifted over his stomach as he trails his fingers over your thigh. Nails slightly scratching, soothingly drawing patterns, up and down, over and under, until you’re shivering and smiling into his hair. He grabs you when you do, fingers digging into your flesh and making you laugh.

Two months have gone by so fast. Fast enough that it still seems as if it was yesterday when you stood in his apartment with your shirt drenched in red wine. A shirt that didn’t survive the encounter.

Now, you lie in his bed. Skin to skin in the warm confined of his sheets. Yoongi’s humming a tune from one of the songs he’s been practicing on the piano the past week. A classical piece. One that’s brought him many frustrated nights. Cracking knuckles sounding through his small studio as he sighed in defeat, bent over the instrument for hours.

You’ve had enough time to study him. Enough time to know how to help him relax. It’s how you ended up in bed, naked and sweaty, breathing each other in until it was all you knew. Until he forgot about those damned black and white keys that had him by the throat most of his days.

Studying music wasn’t easy, but his passion burned brighter than his frustration. It fuels him.

It’s what fuelled him as he drowned himself in you.

“So,” you finally say, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Yoongi stops his ministrations, craning his neck to look you in the eyes. “Oh, that’s why you interrupted my practice?” he teases, mischievous glint in his eyes much like that first night you met him.

You raise a single eyebrow. “As if you weren’t three bars away from ripping the keys off your poor piano.” Shifting over, you sit over his stomach with legs braced on either side of his waist.

Naturally, his hands hold you there, fingers fitting perfectly along the curve of your body. You reach down without breaking eye contact, tracing his mark. He shivers at the gesture.

Nobody has ever told you how sensitive soulmate marks were. That having your soulmate touch them felt like an electric current running through your body, setting you alight. Like you connected each time. A warm, simmering feeling that you’d never experienced before. Something you can’t truly describe. So much more than words can define. It runs deep.

Yoongi brushes his hand over your bare chest to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers. “What is it?”

“Now that we’ve been together for two months, I think it’s time you tell me about the Peanut Butter Incident.”

He groans loudly, hands dropping from your body. “I beg of you, anything but that.” Yoongi is so much more dramatic than he seems at first glance. Shifting between calm and collected to goofy and outgoing when he’s with the right people. Like Hoseok, who you know has been his close friend since they were freshmen.

“Please.” You pout at him, taking his hands and lacing your fingers together.

“Why do you torture me like this?”

“Torture?” you gasp.

He tightens his hold on your hand, and shifts, effectively flipping you over so you’re under him. “Looking at me like that is not fair,” he says while thumbing at your bottom lip that was previously jutted out. One of his legs slides between yours, your hand resting on his bicep.

“If you tell me,” you trail, fingers tracing down his arm to grab his wrist. Lifting his hand to rest over the back of your thigh. “I promise I’ll let you do anything.”

Contemplation crosses his face, making his eyes narrow. He meets your gaze for a mere second, before he grazes your cheek with his fingers. Brushing along your throat, his eyes darken momentarily. A mere flash. “Anything?” he asks, tonguing the corner of his mouth.

“Anything.”

He runs his hand through his own hair, pushing the black strands back to reveal his forehead and furrowed eyebrows. “You can’t judge me.”

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad if it involves peanut butter.”

The story hasn’t even left his mouth and his cheeks are already flushed. He groans. “Fine. Okay.” He takes a minute to gather himself, thinking hard of how to word whatever happened on that cursed day. It makes you worry a little. But it also makes you more curious. “It was my first year in college. Me, Hoseok and a few of our friends had gotten together to get absolutely shit-faced.”

You’re not surprised to hear that this somehow involved alcohol.

“We were playing truth or dare,” he trails off, words getting stuck in his mouth as a flush creeps down his neck.

Then, he sighs, covering his face with his hand. “Do I have to incriminate myself like this?”

You chuckle. “Yes, you must.”

“Why?”

“Because you love me.”

His hand drops down from his face so he can narrow his eyes at you. “Aren’t you lucky.” You laugh at his comment, happiness blooming in your chest at the hidden confirmation. Yoongi has been hesitant to say it, but you know he feels as strongly as you do.

“So, we’re playing truth or dare,” he continues, “and Hoseok puts a target on my back. Sadly, I was too drunk to save myself and I picked dare.”

“No!”

He waves you to silence. “The fucker looks me dead in the eye. Knowing full well that I had a crush on the girl sitting next to me at the time. And he dares to lick peanut butter off her—“

You gasp, clasping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds. He glares at you as your apology comes muffled through your fingers. “Off her what?”

Again, he covers his face. “Off her...chest.”

“Oh.”

Yoongi peaks through his fingers. “What ‘oh’?”

You shrug. “Is that it? You had to lick peanut butter off a girl’s tits when you were a freshman?”

He bites his bottom lip, worrying before he rushes, “Igotturnedon.”

Five seconds pass in which you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “You mean you got a—“

“Yes,” he grits out, not wanting you to say it.

Laughter bubbles up from your lips. You really can’t help it. It’s more so the sight of his flushed ears and grumpy face than the story itself. Through the tears shining at the corners of your eyes, you grab his hands and force them away from his face. “Yoongi,” you whine while still laughing. “Yoongi, look at me.”

“No.” He turns away from you, but not before you catch the shy smile splaying out over his lips.

Pressing yourself against this back, you kiss the spot just behind his ear. Yoongi shivers, going pliant in your hold. “Babe.” The word is a whisper, fanning out over his cheek.

Your soulmate will always pretend to have a strong revolve, and he does. Just not when it comes to you. A deep, dramatic sigh shakes his frame when he finally turns to come nose to nose with you.

“What?”

A giggly kiss to his nose. “You’re a fool.”

He gives you a hard stare, placing a firm hand on your hip. “Am I now?”

You nod, kissing his lips softly until he responds and kisses you back. Groaning as you push him onto his back, tongue slipping past his lips to taste. To kiss him deeply and feel his body slot together with yours until it’s all your senses register.

Fingers digging into your skin. Heaved breaths and hearts that swell with happiness and sink again with relief. Yoongi’s hands both trailing up your back, the feel of them so soft.

Humming against his lips, you break away with another peck. “You’re my fool.”

Special thanks to: @yoongs-jeontae @mygsii @softlyjiminie @jiminsfault @justbtses @honeymoonjin @joonsrack @bangtiddies

@clarissalance @jishookedout134 @leuchtendesstrassenlicht @carolithe @accidentxlly @goldhoneyyy @chimkookie @jksnipslip @ggukiebabes @thinksshesawolf @xiubaek-13

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afictionaladventure16 · 4 years

Text

Remember Me (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 14

Remember Me Masterlist

Previously on Remember Me...

Word Count: 2,152

Warnings: violence

A/N: I don’t want to spoil anything but there is some stuff that happens within this chapter that will be explained within the chapter... if that makes sense... If you are still confused then please message me and I will gladly explain it to you! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

As soon as Roger left the room it had become clear to you that Zemo didn’t want a mission report. The frustrated yell that escaped Zemo’s lips made it evident. Your body trembled as you sat in the familiar chair, the armrests were cool to the touch, but it wasn’t a soothing coolness, it wasn’t a cool breeze on a summer day. No. It was deathly. It was as if you were sitting on stone, your hands shook as you clamped them together, watching as Zemo paced in front of you. Glancing down at your clamped hands, they were not tied. You’re okay. You looked back up at Zemo, it has been said that a human’s mind only uses a small percentage of its own capability and the longer you stared at Zemo, the more you hoped something would happen like in that movie Roger had shown you. Matilda. Part of you hoped that he would just explode, maybe if you thought it hard enough, but it was no use. The only thing you were capable of was the sparks that came out from your hands. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that your father was Thor. All you needed was a flying hammer.

“He’s the reason why this is failing,” Zemo muttered under his breath. His fingers on his chin, giving it a gentle rub as he thought to himself. His mind floated from one frantic thought to another. He’s been compromised, a word any narcissist with a plan hates to hear; a word that has failure written all over it. He couldn’t have that on his name. Not again. Zemo needed this mission to succeed because he needed to have more power.

“Who?” One of the doctors questioned as they looked up from their work. They had been listening in and out of the things Zemo had been saying. Their minds mostly focused on the machines in front of them along with the paperwork.

“Who do you think!?” Zemo yelled in frustration as he turned to the doctors, his hands flying up and then down to his side, placing them on his hips. How could they not see it? It drove him crazy. He gave his hair a tug, hoping it’ll help the pounding in his head. “It’s the only explanation, he knows this mission like the back of his hand. How else would the Avengers be on to us?”

“You’re overthinking it,” the same doctor informed Zemo. “The paranoia of failing is getting to you. You didn’t succeed with the Winter Soldier, but our soldier.” he glanced over at you. “This one is better. The chance of failing is low.” The doctor wore an arrogant smile as he gave you a glance, it sent shivers down your spine.

“There is still a chance,” Zemo whispered. He whipped around, his eyes landing on you. Your heart quickens as your eyes widened with fear. “We start over,” Zemo said as if he had just had the best idea. “We kill him, and bring in a new soldier to become the quote-unquote guardian.”

“That is ridiculous!” The doctor exclaimed. “You do this and the Avengers will surely know our plan!”

“And we keep him alive and they’ll have a man on the inside!” Zemo argued, waving his hands like a maniac. He was becoming dry of ideas, yet there was still a hint of denial inside Zemo that his plan was indeed flawed.

Sitting down on the cold chair, even without restraints, you felt helpless. All you could do was sit and watch it all unfold, your mind, a clueless water lily in an eye of a hurricane, wondering how the hell you got into this situation. “B-but what if he isn’t?” Your eyes widened with shock as you heard your own voice, your mouth had a mind of its own. Zemo whipped his head around to look at you, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to pinpoint what you were trying to get at. “If he isn’t then aren’t you just killing an innocent man?”

Suddenly, the door is thrown open. Roger storms in, dragging a woman alongside him. Her legs dragged on the floor slightly as Roger held her by the waist. You weren’t sure if she had any injuries, but you knew whoever this lady was, she wasn’t a part of Zemo’s team.

You got up from the chair, unable to see the woman's face. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Zemo smirks, walking closer to the woman that Roger had thrown to the ground. She landed on all fours, letting out a huff as the palms of her hands met the cold cement.

“Found her sneaking around the halls,” Roger spat.

You inched around, finally getting a peek at the woman's face. A small gasp escapes your lips when you realize it’s Natasha. Her eyes darted over to you, tears began to well up in her eyes. Now you know that Zemo’s plan was surely compromised. She had seen your face, she now knows what you are a part of, yet that didn’t seem to be a worry for Zemo at the moment.

Zemo stepped in front of your view of Natasha. Roger walked over to you, pulling you away from the situation.

“Roger,” you whispered. You looked up at him, but all he did was give you a small nod before looking up at the ceiling. You didn’t say anything to Roger, but it was as if he had already known what you wanted to say. The softness in his eyes said it all.

“It’s going to be okay,” Roger said softly

“But-” A loud crash interrupted you and next thing you knew, Bucky was on the ground in front of you. He jumped to his feet, drawing his gun, but his eyes glanced over at you now and then. It was as if you were distracting him. You knew it must be quite a shock for Bucky to see one of his students in these situations. To find out that one of his students was working against him. Your heart ached at the thought. Or did he think you had been kidnapped? What did he know? Was he briefed before getting here? What did this mean for the mission? What did this mean for you? You glance over to Zemo as his eyes are focused on Bucky.

Zemo chuckled, “It’s been too long, Sergeant Barnes.” His smirk grew. “I’m sorry I didn’t properly see you last time, but with our last meeting, I’m sure you understand why I had to use a T.V…”

Bucky didn’t say a word, for his mind began to become clouded. The fact that his daughter was just standing inches away from him was distracting, it was taking everything within him to withhold the action to run up to her and hug her. Maybe Fury was right, they couldn’t do this mission, it was too personal. His emotions were taking over his mind.

“You remember Widows Bite right?” Zemo said as he motioned towards you. “Or as you two know her by, Jessica.” Bucky had to focus, he couldn’t mess up now, not if he wanted to bring his daughter home. “I hope you remember her now. She is the spitting image of the two of you.”

Zemo laughs as your face contorts in confusion. “Wait, what?”

Zemo couldn’t risk it anymore. He knew if he wanted to capture Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, it had to be done by their daughter. Yet, he had hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this, he had been warned that the code wasn’t ready. The girl still had a lot of training to do, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not to Zemo.

“I’m sorry I am going to have to cut this reunion short.” Zemo glanced back over to you. “Желание” (longing)

“That doesn’t work for me anymore,” Bucky said, his finger lingering on the trigger.

“I know,” Zemo said with a smirk as he glanced over at you before speaking up again “Ржавый ” (rusted) You felt something inside you begin to stir, you begin to wince at the pounding in your head. “три” (three) you fell to your knees, letting out an excruciating scream. Bucky quickly dropped his gun at the sound of your scream, attempting to aid your side, but was quickly grabbed by the guards that were hiding within the shadows. His heart quickened as he watched you crouch down in pain, letting out a growl as he looked over at Zemo.

“This isn’t for you,” Zemo said as he looked over at Bucky, who was now being held down by guards, they had placed special handcuffs on him. Handcuffs that were made to hold the Winter Soldier.

“What the hell are you doing to her!” Bucky yelled, but he knew all too well what was happening. All too familiar with the pain his daughter was currently going through. The fight that is going on inside her, it would feel like someone inside of her tearing her apart, ripping her to shreds as someone who isn’t you took over your body.

“She isn’t ready for this!” One of the doctors yelled at Zemo. He glared at the doctor with flames in his eyes. The doctor quickly backed down after that.

“Рассвет” (Daybreak) Natasha was being held down by a couple of guards as well, tears forming in her eyes as she watched her down in pain.

“Zemo, you motherfucker! Stop!” Natasha pleaded.

But Zemo took pleasure in seeing the torture within the parent’s eyes as their daughter transformed into his greatest creation. “Молния” (Lightning) you clenched your fists, you felt yourself fading quickly, almost as if someone was taking over your body.

“Stop. Please,” you begged as you looked over at Zemo.

He had a mischievous smile on his face as he watched you unfold into, what he thought is, one of his greatest creations. “But the fun has just begun, my darling.” Zemo watched you for a few seconds, “тысяча” (Thousand).

Roger never saw mentions of trigger words in your documents. He never saw any mention of the doctors working on you for such a thing. He thought he had this plan all figured out, that his plan wasn’t as flawed as Zemo’s mission, but he was wrong. Now all he could do was stand and watch as you become Zemo’s puppet once and for all.

“Добросердечный” (benign) Your heart raced. “Возвращение на Родину” (homecoming) Zemo palms were beginning to sweat as the end of the sequence was coming close, anxious to see his creations come alive “Два” (two).

“You see, Sergeant Barnes,” Zemo glanced over at Natasha, “Ms. Romanoff. Barnes isn’t the only one who has trigger words. We’ve been experimenting with this for a long time and while you all may have hacked into our system, this here… this here was never in the system. Only a selected few were allowed to know the code.” Zemo then glanced back over to you. Ready to let the last syllabus slip out of his tongue, ready to finally bring down his enemies. He will no longer be a fool. A failure. No. To Zemo, he will now be a success story. Oh, how he dreamed of this day.

"I fucking knew it, Roger! You lied to us! We shouldn't have trusted you!" Bucky spat as he tried to barge over to Roger but the restraints refrained him from moving. One of the guards pushed him down on his knees.

"I swear, I didn't know about this!" Roger exclaimed as he continued to look with horror in his eyes at what Zemo had done.

Zemo's eyes danced between Roger and Bucky, letting out a scoff as he stared at Roger. "I knew we had a traitor in our hands." He looked over to one of the guards giving him a small nod. They ran over to Roger, handcuffing him. "I'll have to deal with the traitor later, but right now, my greatest creation is about to perform and I'd hate for you to miss it."

“Лес” (Forest) As the last syllable left Zemo’s mouth, you were no longer in control. Now you were just a bystander in your body. “Soldat?” You got up from your position on the floor, Zemo looked over at Bucky, making sure he was watching, for this was better than what Zemo had planned. Zemo was cherishing every single second of it.

He glanced back over to you, your eyes lingered at Zemo for a second and within that second Bucky and Natasha hoped it didn’t work. They hoped that the plan had failed for Zemo once again, that their daughter had not become the next winter soldier. “готов соблюдать” (ready to comply) and with those words, Bucky and Natasha’s world began to fall apart once again.

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seabass-plums · 4 years

Text

When we locked eyes

Summary : when Bucky walks into the flower shop owned by the reader , she couldn’t help but feel for him. Her interested are soon loosened up once she figures he’s buying the flowers for a special someone.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Theme : fluff

Masterlist

Do not repost my work , reblogs are more than welcome and appreciated.

The beautifully pleasing sound of cling wrap being cut perfectly and swaddled around a bunch of fresh flowers was always therapeutic to you , especially when the bunch consisted of daffodils , iris and asters. The aromatics beautifully mended together and created a pleasant environment to work in whilst also taking in the consideration of the lovely people that care to drop by and pick one each day.

You almost grew a familiarity towards the customers , adapting towards the daily grind of your complicated yet peaceful life. You needed to work hard to earn enough money for our courses , your understanding towards flora came in handy once you decide to leave everything behind and have a fresh new start that mainly considered of leaving behind your toxic family and their mannerisms.

The bells placed above the wooden creak doors chimed , signifying the arrival of your very first customer-a man in his late thirties , dropping by every Thursday afternoons to hop in for a beautiful bouquet of tulips and dandelions , the wide smile that started from his left eye and ended at his other only meant his pure love and affection for his wife , reminding her that thursdays was usually when his day off began , which meant the weekends had arrived.

“Here you go Mr. Peterson , have a lovely day ahead.” You smiled warmly , handing him over the fresh , perfumed flowers along with a gift card dedicated to his lovely wife.

“Mrs. Potters , how lovely it is to meet you.” You greeted one of the regulars , a woman in her sixties , waddling her way into the little parlour with her cane-her purposes of visiting you may ask ? Her angelic granddaughter had passed away a couple months ago , her sole purpose resided in visiting the angel’s grave every thursdays after attending her services at the local church nearby.

“Sweetheart ! It’s lovely meeting you too.” She greeted back , her calloused yet delicate hands smoothened down your hair before giving off a causal pat on the back whilst taking you in her embrace.

“So , what can I interest you in today ? We’ve got asters , roses , tulips , black-eyed daisies and much more.” Your hands moved around , advertising the flowers that laid before her.

“Oh darlin , the same old for me. You know Veronica loved roses and black-eyed daisies.” She reminded you , her eyes crinkling up as she sent off a warm smile your way , her heart filling up with the memories of her precious granddaughter.

“Here you go Mrs. Potters , have a lovely day ahead.”

The bells chimed in once again and there he stood , the incredibly handsome guy who would always turn up at your store. You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t excited to see him on Thursdays.

“Hey there Barnes , what can I get for you ?” You smiled from ear to ear while secretly eyeing down his attire. The brown , rusty leather jacket clung around his body like a film wrap , his abs quite literally poking out through the stiffness of the fabric.

“Ah , just some daisies and amber lilies.” He fingers fiddled with the pockets in his jeans and he quickly pulled out his wallet , his eyes shying away from your gaze as you chuckled in your thoughts before turning your back against him and grabbed onto the essentials.

Bucky was always the soldier at ease when it came to you , he’d always let his guard down no matter what. In fact , he was madly in love with the floweriest owning the place. He admired her beauty but from afar , he feared over his lack of skills in particularly the romance department , admitting his failure from the beginning.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself , you had fallen deeply for the soldier before you but rested your desires once you figured these flowers were travelling towards someone else present in his life , your heart shattered at the thought of failure but in totality leapt with joy , thinking of the broken Sergeant finally in love.

“Here you go Barnes.” You gave off a tight-lipped smile and handed over the flowers , internally screaming while your fingers brushed against his , Bucky mimicking the same.

It’s now or never Buck , he though to himself.

“So y/n , any plans for tonight ?” He leaned over the counter , admiring the flowers while still keeping his gaze away from you.

You thought about your answer for a second , you didn’t want to come off as a desperate loner. ��Just uni work , not really important.” Way to go y/n , you face palmed yourself mentally.

“So you’re basically free ?” He questioned , his steel blue eyes met yours and you could’ve sworn you forgot what it’s like to be lonely.

“Y-Yes.” You stuttered.

You felt your ears begin to burn , your face growing into three shades of a darker red tint with embarrassment.

“Umm so what do you say , Dinner ? Just you and me ?”

Your pupils widened at his enquiry , putting you in an absolute trance. “Just the two of us ?” You questioned once again , your bottom lip tugged in between your teeth and you almost fell flat as his eyes gazed over your movements , stopping right above your lip whilst licking his own in joy.

“Yeah..was that too much to ask for ?” He grinned shamefully and scratched the back of his head , his boyish charm begging him to sprint to the doors and never come back while the soldier instincts forced him to stay.

“No , no ! Not at all..it’s just..” you trailed off , finding it extremely hilarious to reveal your truth. “I thought you were in a relationship..?” You stated in an unsure manner , your brows quirked up for his reply.

Bucky laughed out a loud , “What makes you believe that a broken white boy like me could be in a relationship ?”

You laughed along and pointed out towards the fresh flowers. Your eyes were quick enough to catch his motions , sheer sweat forming across his temples as he revealed the truth to you.

“Oh the flowers....they were honestly an excuse to drop by every Thursday.” He bit his lip lovingly and dropped his gaze once again , quickly self-noting himself to pick up his game the next time he had a chance , which he hoped wasn’t near enough. He wanted to succeed in his mission , you.

“So , about that dinner plan..” you mumbled and chewed on your bottom lip , “I’ll be glad to join you for dinner Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up with pure glee , the soldier within him with finally at ease , resting within it’s depths after completing his mission.

“Call me Bucky.” He chuckled deeply , holding out his hand before you.

You took in the cue and placed your soft palm in his , sucking in your breath as you witness his head drop below and place a tender kiss on the back of your hand. Although it’s been a hundred years , he still had his charms. A gentleman a heart , you thought.

“Can’t wait for tonight doll.” He stared at you for one last time before turning his back to your while beginning to head out the door.

“Bucky !” You called out , his body swiftly turning around to meet your eyes. “Maybe after tonight I might have something to believe in.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Exception | Carter Baizen x Reader (Part 6)

My Masterlist

Summary: You needed Carter. You needed BOTH of them.

Word Count: 6100+

Pairing: CEO!Carter Baizen x Lawyer!Reader, Nate Archibald x Caroline Baizen, Chuck Bass, Lily van der Woodsen, Serena van der Woodsen (mentioned).

Warnings: Swearing, Gossip Girl References, Drugs, Infidelity, Car Accident, Blood, Trauma, Hospital, Teenage Pregnancy

A/N: This is my entry for @baezen‘s writing challenge. A lot of you have been calling me out on things and I must admit that I’m impressed. I’m so glad you all seemed to figure out that there was a child involved. And for those of you who didn’t... SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS! Y’all might get Dad!Carter in this fic! I don’t own the gifs. ELIF, GO AHEAD AND YELL AT ME… SAB, I LOVE YOU. THEORY ANON, LETS SEE WHAT YOUR THEORY IS NOW. :P

It was no joke that Caroline Baizen had spent so many months planning her perfect wedding to Nate Archibald, but she had spent many more months planning her perfect honeymoon with him. It was supposed to be just the two of them in their honeymoon suite at the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah, soaking up the sun on a yacht at the Dubai Marina and making love to each other like the newlyweds they were before they both had to return to the chaos that was the Upper East Side of Manhattan. All of that planning went to shit the moment she got that phone call, saying that her brother had been hit by a car outside of the Gramercy Tavern and had been rushed to the hospital.

Though the police officer who had been kind enough to contact her did not have many details about Carter’s condition, Caroline could not help but hope for the best while expecting the worst. Her heart was beating right out of her chest as she feared for her brother’s life, her husband holding onto her as she sobbed against his chest. It was as though the limo was moving way too slow as she and Nate were on their way to the hospital. She was worried, and scared, for she did not want to lose the only family she had left. Losing their parents in a car accident had been bad enough as it was.

Carter and Caroline never shared the best of sibling relationships, not since he had first cut ties with their parents and left the Upper East Side for good. But when he had returned from being held by the Buckley’s, she had seen that he was a changed man. He had promised her that he would change his ways and do right by everything in his family; he would do right by their parents and he would do right by her. He had done just that since then. Losing their parents had been hard on the two of them, but they got through it together. They had always had each other. But now, even when she had Nate, Caroline felt alone. She did not want to lose her big brother.

To say that Nate had been worried sick about the fate of his brother-in-law would be an understatement. But he was also aware that Carter had plans with you that evening, thanks to Annalise and her commitment to updating him about what was going on between you and Carter since the wedding.

A part of him was worried about you as well. After all, he knew how much he meant to you. Even though in the exterior, you acted like you hated him, Nate knew that you would always love him. Perhaps that was why he had been calling your cell phone ever since Caroline had come crying to him about her brother. But unbeknownst to him, your phone had slipped out of your hand during your fall and shattered on the side of the road, and you had abandoned it for the man who had just saved your life in the matter of seconds.

The man who had saved your life in a matter of seconds was also the man whom you had always believed to be your apocalypse. You had always believed that he was the final destruction of your life. You had blamed him for ruining your life for years, but now he had saved it too.

The reason why you were possibly alive at this very moment was because Carter Baizen had pushed you out of the way and taken the hit from that speeding car. It should have been you and your stupidity. You took all the blame for the fact that your ex-boyfriend of fifteen years was now laying in an operating room with his skull open.

It was as though the guilt that you had been living with for the last fifteen years was not enough. It was as though you needed to be punished even more for having run away the way that you had and for keeping your secret for as long as you had. As if the fact that your whole truth had been eating you alive was not painful enough that it kept you awake at night, you had to face the worst of the consequences that had been caused by your mistakes.

How were you supposed to live with your whole truth like this, especially after Carter had now saved your life? Perhaps it was a blessing and a curse – a blessing was that you had survived the accident with a few scratches and the curse would be living in a world where Carter Baizen was dead. You did not want to live in a world without him.

He could not die, not like this. He had been alive when you had found him lying in a puddle of his own blood. He had been holding onto his dear life and then you had also been holding onto his dear life in your hands when the ambulance had driven you down to the nearest hospital. Your hands had been laced with the crimson fluid that had bled out of him. His blood in your hands, literally.

A team of doctors and nurses had rushed Carter upstairs to operate on him the moment you had arrived at the hospital. His head injury had been a priority. Meanwhile, another doctor had managed to bandage up your bruises.

You made no noise while the exhausted ER doctor worked on you. You did not yell. You did not cry. You did not expel any of the emotions that urged to spew out of you as you held a clean tissue against your nostrils, blotting the last of the blood that dripped down as you had finally stopped crying.

The doctor thought that your newfound calmness it was because you were still in shock from the accident – you were frightened by witnessing your loved one getting struck by a car. It was common for most patients to experience such trauma. But the way you had managed to respond to her queries in with the nod of your head or one word at a time made her realize that you were indeed... lucid. You were not completely traumatized, but you clearly knew how to stay in control of your emotions.

You wanted to break down. You wanted to cry. But what was the point in that? Carter Baizen, the love of your life, the father of your child, was lying lifeless in an operating room somewhere. The father of your child. He was the father of your child and he was lying lifeless in an operating room somewhere...

What kind of a mother had you been? What kind of a mother keeps the secret of becoming a mother from the whole world? What kind of a mother willingly chooses to keep the father of her child as far away from her child’s life as she possibly can? What kind of a mother puts the life of the father of her child in danger? What were you going to tell the fourteen year old you had left behind in London when you had boarded that plane back to New York City? What were you going to say when the child you had birthed and raised on your own gets here in a few days and asks you about her father?

Once the doctor had finished up with you, a handful of nurses had helped you get cleaned up. You could see the pity in their eyes as they helped you into the shower. They must have known from the lifeless look in your eyes, that the man who was being operated on was someone who meant so much to you.

Carter was not some guy you had once dated, no. He was the only man you had ever loved truly. He was the only man who made you weak and vulnerable. He was the only man who knew the real you. He was the father of your child.

Turning on the water, you watched as Carter’s blood dripped away from your skin. The scrubbing may have removed his blood from your hands now, but metaphorically his blood was still on your hands. It was your fault that he was lying lifeless in an operating room right now. He was the father of your child.

Apparently the doctor had told the police that you were in no emotional state to provide a statement, so the kind sergeant who needed to file the report had decided that it was best to give you some time to recover from the incident and return in the morning. Needless to say, you were grateful for that. While you had changed into a fresh pair of scrubs that the nurses had handed to you, you hoped and prayed that Carter would make it out alive from this.

You had always wanted the best for him, even when you had loathed him. Even when you hated him, you loved him. Even when he had ruined everything you had planned for your future, you had wanted him to have a good life.

You never wanted him to suffer for what he had done. You never wanted to punish him even more than you already had. You had convinced yourself that he not knowing that he had fathered a child was punishment enough for the way he had treated you fifteen years ago.

But now, you knew that this punishment was not for him. It was for you. You were being punished for keeping this from him for as long as you had. The possibility that Carter might even die not knowing that he had a child was weighing you down like a boulder. He might even die not ever meeting his child and it was your entire fault.

The moment you arrived in the waiting room to see a crying Caroline Baizen rushing over to you, a worried Nate following right after her and a concerned Anne Archibald grabbing onto your numbing body, that was when you had finally broke down. You knees were weak and your legs were growing numb. You felt your body losing all of its strength as you finally let out the emotions that you had kept bottled up for the last fifteen years all at once.

“Y/N!” Chuck Bass was quick to rush over to you before your knees hit the tiled floor of the waiting room, helping you up and leading you over to the nearest chair so that you could sit down. His lips curled into a frown when he saw you in this state, for he had always known you as this strong spitfire of a young woman before you had fled the Upper East Side. The Y/N he knew never broke down like this. But he also knew that you had always loved Carter and seeing him get hit by a car must have crushed you.

Lily van der Woodsen had sat down right next to you, her arm wrapped tightly around you as she let you sob against her shoulder. Perhaps her maternal instincts had kicked in when she had seen you like that. She had always seen you as another child of hers, perhaps because she had once dated your father.

While you had been against her relationship with your father as a whole and had rejected all of her attempts to be a part of your life, she still felt some kind of love for you. She had forgiven you for being that selfish seventeen year old she knew. She knew that you had grown up now and you had apologized for the way you had treated her then. That was all that mattered to her. She knew that your mother was out of town and at that moment, so she figured that you probably need that kind of support.

No one in the Upper East Side was a stranger to what you had with Carter Baizen. The two of you had been the closest friends since you were young. You had dated during your high school years and you had both fallen in love with each other. While no one knew how your relationship had ended or why you had left New York for good, they all knew that Carter being in this condition would have been hard on you. So, they were all there to offer you the support that you needed while either of your parents could be present.

“It was all... m-my fucking fault...” You whispered between the sobs, the salty tears dripping down to your burning lips as your head began to feel heavy. “I was... crossing the street and... I wasn’t paying attention, I...” You could not get yourself to replay those scenes in your head.

Seeing the way he had been thrown off into the air and the way he had looked up at you before he had fallen unconscious had been burned into your memory forever. He made you realize how wrong you had been about everything for the last fifteen years. He was no apocalypse; he was your savior. “C-Carter... saved my life... he... h-he...” As you felt another sob, Lily hugged you tightly.

You cried as much as you could, in order to be rid of your guilt. But no matter how much you cried, your tears could not make up for the time that you had lost with Carter. Your fifteen year old stupidity had now cost him his life and the woman whom you had refused to accept as your new step-mother back then was now the one who was comforting you. This was your punishment.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. He’ll be okay...” Lily rubbed your back, gently. “I just spoke to William. He’s in surgery and they’re working on him. He’s going to be okay...”

“No, he’s... he was bleeding so much. His head, he... his head was bleeding.” You looked down at your hand that had been drenched in his blood earlier. Even though it had been clean, you could not forget the image of his blood all over it. “He’s... he’s...” You pulled back from the hug to look over at Caroline, your lips curling into a frown as you realized that you had taken away from her the only family she now had left.

You felt like a monster for being the reason behind her brother’s accident. Everything that had ever happened to you had been your doing, not his. “He’s... he saved my life.” Your lips quivered as you stood up from your seat and made your way over to the younger Baizen, your heart breaking at the sight of that little girl whom you had grown to love as a sister long before she had even married into your family. “Caroline... I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. It was my fucking fault. I wasn’t looking and now he... he saved my life but it should have been me. It should have been me.” You fell down to your knees as you grabbed her hands, sobbing louder as you looked down. “It should have been me...”

Caroline shook her head at you. “Y/N, no... Don’t say that. He... he must have had a reason for doing what he did and I respect that. He’s not a selfish guy and if he thought that saving you was more important than saving himself, then I respect that.” She admitted with a nod, sobbing harder as she held onto your hand.

“He’ll be okay. He needs to be. He’s made his mistakes but so have we all. He should be able to live his life like we all do. He’ll be okay.” Even though she felt lost and confused without her brother by her side, she was hopeful. Carter had been through so much and he had turned out alright. She knew that this was just another obstacle that her brother had to cross before he got to live the life he truly deserved.

A few hours had passed as you sat in the waiting room with Nate and Caroline. Lily and Chuck had both left once you had calmed down. You knew that the only reason the two of them had even bothered to be at that hospital in the first place was for you and not for Carter.

While Lily had been a close friend of your father’s over the years, your knowledge of the feud between Carter and Chuck was also reason enough for you to believe that Chuck had no respect for Carter. But you appreciated that they cared for you, considering what you had done.

You had loathed the Upper East Side and the people in it when you had run away so abruptly. But now, not only had the Upper East Side had welcomed you home with open arms, you had also had an entire support system of people to make up for the lack of familial support. You did not deserve any of it.

It had been early morning when you had finally received news from the nurses that Carter’s surgery had come to an end. You overheard the neurosurgeon that had operated on him telling Caroline that he had suffered a traumatic brain injury – while he was alive; they could not be so sure that he would wake up from that. They had given him forty-eight to wake up, and if he did not wake up by then, Caroline had some decisions to make.

While a part of her had been glad that her brother was out of surgery, Caroline broke down once again at the revelation that Carter might not make it. You might not have been a medical expert but you had witnessed just how bad he had been injured; you knew that he was not going to make it out of it that easily.

But you did have some hope that he would make it out alive. You needed him to make it out alive, for your sake and for the sake of your child. The realization that you had indeed taken Caroline’s only family away from her had dawned on you suddenly. But Carter was not only her family. He was yours too. As she broke down in tears again, so did you. But you were quick to step out of the waiting room, away from her gaze.

You found yourself in an empty hallway by a medical supply closet and you began sobbing once again, pacing back and forth as you realized how much you had fucked up. You had fucked up. You knew you had fucked up. And now there was no going back. There was no going back in time to fix the mistakes that you had made.

Nate hugged his wife tightly as she sobbed, rubbing her back as he watched you step out of the waiting room. He turned over to look at his mother with a frown, hoping that Anne Archibald would finally come to her senses and have some empathy for her new daughter-in-law.

The woman gave him a nod as she walked up to the two of them, her hand gently placed on Caroline’s back. “Sweetheart...” She frowned, pulling her into a hug.

“Anne, I can’t lose him...” Caroline shook her head as she cried. “I can’t...”

As he let his mother calm down his wife, he made his way out of the waiting room for a moment. He looked around the hallway before he heard your soft sobs, and following the sound of your quiet cries, he found you leaning against the wall next to the medical supply room. “Y/N...” He frowned at the sight of you, immediately rushing over to your side. He pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/N... come on, you can’t break down like this.”

“Nate, I never wanted any of this to happen...” You admitted as you sobbed against his chest. “I wanted Carter to be away from... I never wanted him to... no, not like this.”

He stroked your hair as he began to tear up; remembering the last time you had been a crying mess like this. It had been fifteen years ago now, when you had called him before you had left for London.

You had confided in him your secret, which he had kept with him since then. Not even his own wife ever came to know the truth, even though she did have every right to know of your whole truth. “Y/N... you need to calm down. The doctors did say that... whether he wakes up or not... it’s not like they were sure that he won’t wake up. They just said that... all we could do right now is wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Nate.” You sniffled as you pulled back from his embrace, wiping away your tears as you felt a drop of blood streaming from your right nostril. “What even is the point of waiting anymore? He might not even wake up. He...”

Nate was quick to reach into his pocket and grab a handkerchief. He handed it to you as he sighed, wrapping his arm around you as he held you close. He had always been your pillar of strength when it came to Carter. He had kept your secret for fifteen years now. But he knew by now that it was about time that you told the truth to everyone. He knew that you must have been thinking about that, as he was too.

You dabbed at your nose as you fought back the tears. “I need to call Carter.” You let out a sigh as you nodded your head, trying to convince yourself that you were sure of what you were about to do. “I need to call Carter right now.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked you, biting down on his bottom lip. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What even is the point anymore, Nate?” You asked him as you broke into another sob and shook your head. “He might not even wake up. He might not... he might never know and it’s all my fucking fault!” You cried. “I was such an idiot, Nate! I was such an idiot for doing what I did and... now he’s... what am I going to do? What am I going to... I have to call Carter.”

Nate gave you a nod as he agreed with your decision. He had always stood by the decisions you had made for yourself, even then and even now. Even if he did not agree with the choices that you had made, he had kept your secret for as long as he had.

He often wondered why you had chosen to call him that night and tell him the truth. Perhaps, it had been for an unforeseeable reason. It was because he was the only one who could give you the support at this very moment.

“Nathaniel... it’s me.”

“Y/N?!”

“Nate.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?! Where are you?! We’ll all been worried about you!”

“Nate, calm down... I’m okay. I’m fine, I... I hopped on a boat from Santorini and got back to Athens. I’m taking the train in a bit... going up to... T-Thessaloniki in the northern part of Greece. I’m going to be on the move for a while so I wanted to speak to you before I left on this journey. I had to speak to you, you know, in case I never get to speak to you again. I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?! What? Are you running away?!?!”

“This guy... Spiros... he told me that I could get to Romania from Thessaloniki in like a day... and then I’ll be in Bucharest for another day and then I’m taking another train to... Budapest and then another day to Munich. Paris, I can get there in like ten hours...”

“Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you taking a train trip around Europe like this? What’s going on? Your dad’s worried. The cops found blood in your hotel room and Carter was questioned.”

“I... I know that there’s a lot going on right now and I hate to do this to you. Don’t tell him... either of them... but uh... I’m going to London. I’m going to see my mom.”

“Y/N, you’re... couldn’t you at least call your dad and tell him that you’re okay before you leave?! He’s been worried sick!”

“Nate, listen to me... I can’t talk to my Pop about anything right now. He... He’s in love and it’s blinded him. If I told him what happened, I know he’s not going to take my side in this. I need to get to London. I need my mom, okay? I really need my mom right now!”

“What’s going on?! Carter’s been asking about you... what happened between the two of you? He said he’s worried sick! What happened?!”

“Nate...”

“Y/N, please tell me the truth. What happened that night? Why did you leave Santorini?”

“Nate, I... I can’t tell you.”

“Y/N, please... we’re family. You called me for a reason. You have to tell me the truth.”

“Promise me... that you won’t tell anyone. No one can know, not my Pop and not Carter. Not your mom or dad. Not even Chuck.”

“Y/N...”

“Promise me, Nate!”

“Fine... I promise. I won’t tell anyone. You have my word, Y/N. Now tell me what’s going on... please?”

“... I’m pregnant.”

“What?!”

“Nate, I’m pregnant... I’m pregnant and it’s Carter’s. And I can’t do anything about it... because he... he cheated on me, Nate! He cheated on me with Serena. He went to a party and she got him high and they... he told me that he loved me and he went off and slept with Serena. He told me that I was his one exception and he knocked me up. He slept with me and now he slept with Serena. I... he cheated on me with Serena and I’m fucking pregnant with his child!”

“Y/N, what- that son of a bitch! Why haven’t you told your dad? Why haven’t you called him?! Please, just fucking call him! He’s worried sick!”

“Because... he loves Lily and... if I told him the truth, I’m scared that he’s going to take the van der Woodsen’s side over mine. Believe me, Nate. He’s done it before and... He treats Serena like this perfect princess and I can’t live through that. He’s never treated me like his daughter ever since she came into the picture and... it’s only going to get worse now. I know I disappointed him. I know that he had all these plans for me and... I went off and got pregnant. I can’t go off to Yale now and take over the company like he’s always wanted me to. He’s going to hate me.”

“Y/N, you can’t leave... you can at least talk to him about it. You can try to figure things out. Come back to New York and figure it out.”

“I can’t go back to New York, Nate. I can’t... Carter is no fit to be a father. He’d rather go off and party and get high than... he’s not going to change his ways. I know him. I thought he had changed and that he loved me but... he went off and cheated on me. I’m not going to bring his child into the world thinking that he’d want a part in that. I’m done putting my faith in him.”

“Y/N, come on... you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to. You don’t owe him shit! But you can’t leave New York over this! You have your dad, you have... all of us. We’re not going to let you do this alone.”

“I’m... leaving, Nate. I’m leaving and I’m never going to come back. I know that... New York is home but... the Upper East Side is not a paradise like I always thought it was, Nate. I’ve had some time to think about this. Our parents gave us a shit tonne of money since we were kids... credit cards with no limits and trust funds... we were spoiled rotten. I was spoiled rotten. I was so caught up with spending my dad’s money and having the time of my life that I never thought about the consequences of any of this... I was an idiot. I was a spoiled, irresponsible... stupid little shit and I ruined my own god damn life. It was all my doing, Nate. I don’t know... what any of our parents were thinking when they raised us the way they did. But... I’m going to be a mom now and there’s a child that’s growing inside of me... a child that’s going to come into this world because I was stupid enough to fall in love with the wrong person. Now I’m seventeen and I’m pregnant, all because of the way I was raised. I don’t want my kid to grow up the way I did... I don’t want my kid to... have a credit card at thirteen or... weekly shopping trips to Saks. I don’t want my kid to... be exposed to alcohol and drugs at a young age. I don’t want my kid to... get drunk at prom and get knocked up in the back of a limo or... get high after a party and cheat on anyone. I don’t want my kid to be any of what I’ve become, Nate... that’s why I’m leaving. I’m not going to let the Upper East Side ruin my child’s life like it ruined me. It’s for the best.”

“Y/N...”

“I love you, Nate. I love you so fucking much, don’t ever forget that. I’ll always be the big sister you never had but... I might not see you again for a while.”

“Y/N, don’t leave... Y/N, please don’t do this.”

“I’m going to miss you, Archibald.”

“Y/N... please...”

“You’ll come visit me in London, right? You won’t forget about me... right? Come see me when you can, okay? I don’t want you to... I love you so much, little bro. But this is for the best. It’s best that I stay away from all of this, for the sake of... your niece or nephew.”

“I love you so much... and please stay safe. Please... don’t leave me hanging. Call me when you get to London and... Call me? Talk to me every now and then... just so that I know... that you’re okay. Y/N... please... don’t let me go like you’re letting go of the Upper East Side.”

“I... should get going, Nate. My train’s about to leave soon and... be careful out there. Tell Chuck not to get in too much trouble and... Don’t let him get you in too much trouble either. I know that Blair Waldorf has a thing for you but... don’t sleep in your feelings for Caroline. Get your shit together, Archibald... because your big sister’s not going to be there to give you any relationship advice. You’re on your own now and you’re going to have to figure shit out yourself.”

“Y/N...”

“You’re going to grow up without me... but I know that... you’re going to make me and all the van der Bilt’s so fucking proud. I’m sure of it, Nate. I love you so much and I’m going to miss you so fucking much!”

“Y/N, don’t go- Y/N!”

Nate Archibald pulled out his phone as he looked over at you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears and holding the handkerchief against your nostril. “I should have done this fifteen years ago, Nate.” You admitted.

You should have done this long before. Even though it was probably too late now, it was better late than never.

Nodding his head, he dialed the number that he had saved in his phone for years now and put his phone on speaker. He had not called this number in a while, probably ever since you and he had a brief fall out regarding his mayoral race.

But the moment he heard the call go through, his heart began to race. He knew that the moment this call had been picked up, every single one of your lives would change in an instant.

“Hello? Uncle Nate? Uncle Nate, is that you?”

“C-Carter...” You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing you daughter’s voice at a time like this. At least you could say that one of them was alive and well.

A part of you was worried about how to break the news to her. Your relationship with your daughter had already been rocky in the last few days, ever since you had left her in London and moved right back to New York.

She had not been happy about you choosing to stay in New York for your father’s sake. After all, London had been where she had been living since she had been born, not to mention the fact that you had sent your mother to bring her to New York instead of being the one to do that. She had been pissed at you for days.

“Mom? Mom, why are you calling me from Uncle Nate’s phone? I told you, I don’t want to hear it! I’m getting tired of telling you and Nan over and over again. I’m not leaving London!” Your fourteen year old daughter groaned into the phone.

“Carter, sweetheart... just listen to me for a sec...” You bit down on your bottom lip as you fought back the tears.

Nate rubbed your back gently as he held you close. “Come on...” He mouthed, knowing that you have to be the only one who should be informing this to his beloved goddaughter.

Carter Eleanor Lydia Y/L/N, even though she was now his niece by marriage, is his goddaughter and that was never going to change. As the only one who had kept in touch with you since you had left New York for good, Nate had been the only one other than your parents and Annalise who knew of her existence. He had been honored to have been asked to be your child’s godfather. After all, he knew that you had trusted him with your child’s life even though you had not even trusted her own father with that.

Not even her own father knew that he had a child and if he does not wake up now, he might as well die not even knowing that he ever had a child. You had told yourself that you were punishing him by keeping your little Carter away from him, but you knew that the only ones who had been punished by this were you and your daughter.

You had always told her that Carter Baizen was her father and you had told her why you had purposefully kept her away from him. While she did not agree with your decisions at first, as she grew older, she began to understand why you had made the decision to raise her on your own. As much as she missed having a dad growing up, she knew that her mother was strong and resilient. She respected that.

But that did not mean that she did not ever want to have some kind of relationship with her father. She wanted to know him as much as she wanted him to know her. But you know that the chances of that happening now were slim. You needed her to come to New York now more than ever!

“Mom... is everything okay?” She asked you, worried about the tone of your voice. Your daughter knew you well enough to know that your voice was trembling. She wondered if something must have happened to your father and not hers, for your father’s health had been the reason why you had returned to New York in the first place and insisted that she move here for the time being as well. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is it Pop? Is he okay?”

“Carter... i-it’s... Pop’s fine, he’s fine... But... C-Carter, it’s your dad. He was in an accident last night and... it’s not looking good.”

“What?! Mom, no... no no no, mom...” She broke down. “Mom... he can’t... no... he doesn’t even know me! He can’t... mom, don’t lie to me!”

“Carter, I’m not... why would I lie to you about this? I’ve always told you the truth when it comes to your dad. I never lied to you about who he was. You knew everything about him... since you were ten. I’m... I’m sorry, baby. This is all my fault, I know... but I need you right now and so does he. C-Can you... can you... your Nan has the private jet on stand-by and she’s packed up most of your things already. Can you... I need you to come to New York as fast as you can, baby.”

“... I’ll be there.”

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