#anything sad until today. No angst fics no sad fics no sad edits and even if i saw any id laugh it off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bangtaninborderland · 7 months

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MYG- I love you eternally.

Summary: he hasn't been gone long but the space he left behind consumes you, thankfully you aren't ever really alone.

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, sad fic, happy ending, COMFORT

A/N: this came to me after seeing an edit on tiktok of yoongi clips to fine line by harry styles (deffo listen as you read it makes you cry) this is very self indulgent. I miss yoongi an awful lot, he was my comfort person and it sucks that I can’t stop crying.

BTS Masterlist

The sound of knuckles tapping on the door pulled you out of your trance, you hadn’t even realised the movie you’d put on had finished, nor that your phone had been receiving numerous calls for the past god knows how long.

Reluctantly you shove off the blanket you had wrapped around you, it was a gift from Yoongi one winter when it was far too cold to sit in just clothing. The door is only a few steps away from the couch so it doesn’t take you long to finally open it.

“I brought foo-“Namjoon's mouth rounds into an ‘o’ shape. “You were crying.”

“Was I?” You frown reaching up to touch your face, sure enough, it was damp from the tears you’d shed. “Sorry, I was just a little out of it.”

“Let’s go inside?” He asks, raising the white bag up a little higher to remind you of the food he brought.

“Oh yeah, of course.” You shake your head stepping aside to let him pass. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Have you eaten today?” He asks, pulling out some plates.

You slump back onto the couch, pulling the blanket around you before shoving your face into the hood of the sweatshirt you’d stolen from Yoongis's closet. The smell comforts you. “I don’t know, I had breakfast or was it lunch…” you trail off, half-heartedly trying to recount your day.

“You can’t let yourself fall apart YN. Hyung will be worried.” He looks at you with a hint of concert as he passes you a plate of food. “Let’s watch something?”

“I- uh.” You really can’t stand the idea of noise right now. “Maybe not tonight?”

“Of course. What did you do today?” He questions, sitting on the other end of the couch, his own plate balanced on his thighs.

“Not much, I watched TV and read a chapter of the book yoon gave me.” You dug the spoon into the food, not really attempting to eat.

It wasn’t your fault you had no appetite.

“Was the book good?” He asked in between a mouthful.

“It… I don’t really know… I couldn’t get into it.” You shrug, bringing the spoon to your mouth.

“It’s 5 pm and you haven’t done anything today have you?” Namjoon sets his plate aside in favour of moving closer to you.

“I miss him.” You mumble, putting your own plate on the table.

Yoongi would have scolded you if he were here, always complaining that it would mark the table despite the fact you always used hear absorbent dinner trays but that was the problem…

Yoongi wasn’t here.

You don’t know what exactly caused it but within a second you were bursting into tears, everything you’d managed to hold together ever since he left a week ago falling apart. “I miss him, I don’t even get to fucking call him.”

“I know.” Namjoon shushes you as he brings your head to his shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “I’m so sorry this must be hard for you.”

“It was so short notice he didn’t even tell m-me.” You hiccuped, bordering between the lines of angry and sad was never a good place to be but you couldn’t help it.

Yoongi had waited until the last possible moment to tell you he had received his enlistment date and when he had received it he was shocked to see a date only 4 days away giving you absolutely no time to mentally prepare yourself for him to be gone.

“It’s so fucking unfair.” You cuss, unable to do anything else with your anger at the situation.

Namjoon didn’t say anything, he couldn’t, he himself knew how ridiculously unfair it was but still, he didn’t regret the group's choice, it was the only right way to deal with the situation. “It will pass quicker than you think. You won’t be alone.”

“Joon soon enough you, Tae, Jimin and Jungkook are enlisting too. It’s not exactly like anyone else knows about me and Yoongi. Other people just don’t understand it.” Yoongi had made a joke two days before he left telling you to cry with other armys about it because they would understand but it was looking more and more appealing as the days went past. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Another wave of tears came just seconds later and this time there was no reprieve, anytime you nearly stopped a memory of him would pop into your mind and the tears would start again. You hated how it made you seem crazy, seem overly obsessive but you knew Yoongi would be missing you just as much. You’d become each other strength in all the years you’d been together so now he wasn’t here, wasn’t just a phone call away, it felt like you’d lost a part of yourself, it felt like you’d lost your strength.

That’s how you fell asleep, curled in Namjoon's arms, sobbing in longing for the man who taught you how to love.

Namjoon waited until he was sure you were fast asleep before slipping out from underneath you, draping the gifted blanket over you as he tiptoed to the balcony to take his incoming call.

“Hyung.” Namjoon smiles into the phone. “How are you?”

“As good as I can be, you didn’t tell her right?”

“No Hyung. Are you sure we really can’t tell her about you-“

“No Namjoon-ah I don’t want to get her hopes up, that will only hurt her more if it doesn’t get approved. I’ll tell her if she knows I can call and I don’t want to do that to her. How is she? How are you? ”

“I’m okay.” Namjoon responds. “She misses you.” He continues, not going u into depth about the small breakdown.

“I miss her too.” He breathes, his voice a little strained in the way it gets when he is very obviously holding back tears. “Is she eating?”

Namjoon nodded before realising Yoongi couldn’t see him. “I brought her food she just seemed sad. Are you eating Hyung? Sleeping enough?”

Yoongi laughs as though Namjoon has said something absurd. “The food is shit. I’ve got this fucking melody stuck in my head and I just know it would sound amazing for the vocal line.”

“Ah, Hyung.” Namjoon laughs. “I’ll tell them I’m sure they would appreciate the fact you’re thinking about making their songs already.”

“I’ll probably forget it by the time I’m actually allowed to work on music.” Yoongi huffs.

“I doubt it.” Namjoon hears shuffling, already knowing it’s you. “I have to go Hyung she’s waking up.”

“Make sure she knows I love her okay? I’ll call you again to let you know if it’s approved.” Yoongi rushes out before Namjoon hangs up.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, shivering at the draft coming from the open door.

“Sorry.” He smiles, stepping back inside and closing it behind him. “Just needed some air. So… how about watching something?”

You don’t hate the idea as much as you did earlier, your little thirty-minute nap helping you feel a little better. “Sure.”

You watch 3 episodes of some drama before declaring it a night, Namjoon insisting you eat before he left which led to you both eating an oversized pizza. It leaves you feeling a little less lonely, especially when he tells you just how much he too misses Yoongi.

Namjoon comes over again three more times that week, each day following the same pattern. The days he didn’t come you resigned yourself to laying in bed, looking through pictures and videos you and Yoongi had taken in the past few months.

Today was one of those days, those days where you missed him so much and felt so alone that you’d texted Namjoon not to come, told him you just couldn’t deal with being around anyone else right now, so it surprised you when the doorbell rang consistently for five minutes until you finally gave in.

You groaned, shivering as the floor felt cold against your bare feet. “Namjoon I said not to-

“You really shouldn’t lay in bed every day.”

You froze, too afraid to move, speak or blink in case the figure in front of you disappeared.

“Baby.” He sighed, dropping his bag inside the door before pushing you inside lightly. “It’s me.”

“Fuck.” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around him as tight as you could. “You’re here. How are you here.”

He laughed, the sound of it melodic to your ears. “I did extra time so my training finished earlier. They could t exactly say no.”

“I just- I can’t believe you’re here I thought it would be at least another three weeks before I could even call you.” You bring your hands up to his hair, despite it being short you still love it. “I missed you.”

“Baby don’t cry I’m here now.” He sucked in a breath, his own eyes pooling with tears. “I get to stay for four days.”

“Really?” You pull back to look at him properly, a grin breaking out as he nods.

“Really.”

Despite the tears trailing down your lips he leans in to kiss you, his hand at the small of your back a comforting presence. “I love you.”

“I love you too Yoon.”

The next four days passed much faster than you would have liked but as you dropped him off at the camp again things felt different.

You hated how quiet the house was without him, where he would normally be playing piano, watching a new show jimin had recommended or cooking with a glass of whiskey in his hand, there was nothing but silence.

You were almost ready to give in to your tears again until you spotted a letter on the kitchen counter.

The perfect writing on the envelope already tells you who it’s from, you don’t hesitate in pulling out the paper and reading it.

Hello, my love,

I snuck away to write this whilst you slept, I’m not the best with words although I’m sure by now you’re absolutely aware of that but still there are only things that can be conveyed by words. If I was allowed to I’d write you a hundred songs but I’m a little short on time so I hope this suffices.

I want you to know just how much you mean to me, just how much your presence has brought me happiness, strength and comfort. You often thank me for giving you strength but you forget that you are the sole reason I keep going.

You cannot let the bad days consume you, although it’s okay to give up and take a break, you can’t let that feeling consume you. There is always a tomorrow, always another chance and I know that you will never ever fail because I don’t believe in failure, every attempt is precious, and every time you try to get up - even if it isn’t successful - is precious and I am so proud of you for it.

In the moments you miss me do something nice for yourself, eat a good meal, read a book you like, watch a movie you find brings you happiness and before you realise it I’ll be back, spending every moment possible with you because you are my home.

I will always be here, write me letters, send me messages, take pictures of the things you see and do and share them with me. I’ll always be apart of your life, I’m not going anywhere.

I love you eternally.

You wiped away your tears, holding the letter close as though it were him. You let the words sink in and silently you made a promise.

You’d keep going and do the best you could, you’ll be the best version of yourself when he returns because he gave you the ability to grow much like water does a flower.

And even if you couldn’t say it to him, you were sure he knew…

You loved him eternally too.

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sakufilms · 1 year

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dads suck ; jm

𓂃 ⋆ 𓈒 masterlist

⌁ jj maybank x reader

⌁ hiding bruises and keeping secrets is something jj knows all too well, and he wants nothing but to bring you comfort. // angst, hurt/comfort, platonic.

⌁ 2.1k words

! : gender neutral r (they/them), overly strict parent, abuse, bruises, sad jj, jj and r #bonding el oh el, swearing, not set in any specific season/time, not really edited.

✐ in anticipation for outer banks 3, i did this really quick (it’s also my very first obx fic!!). the downside: i don’t remember a lot of the small details of this show and i’m not currently able to watch it yet, so if anything seems off, that’s probably why. also, hopefully i got jj’s characterization right??

Walking into your own home wasn't supposed to strike fear into your heart like a spreading disease, nor was it supposed to make your hands shake beyond your control, eyes darting around fearfully. It was supposed to be your safe place—your sanctuary.

The place where you were supposed to feel loved and cared for, brought you heartbreak and hurt. Any wrong move could lead to being hit or yelled at, and you hated it.

You didn't tell anyone about it, however. Instead using your smiles and laughter as a shield to keep everyone from being suspicious, fearing that maybe your Dad wasn't lying when he said if anyone hears about this, I'll make you regret it. Understand that?

You felt that same fear as you entered your house, stepping into the foyer. You had just gotten back from school, and the day had been rather uneventful as usual until something went wrong. You were a few minutes late to your third period class because your second period teacher asked you to help carry some textbooks to another classroom. It took longer than expected, however.

In the end, you weren’t even that late, you you shouldn’t have been surprised when your Dad was called about your brief absence to the class.

You wish you could say that it wouldn’t of been that big a deal, but you already know that your night was about to get a whole lot worse than the usual.

You froze in your steps, hearing your name being called from the kitchen. You couldn’t keep him waiting too long though, so your dragged yourself to the kitchen, eyes directed to the floor.

“Hi, Dad.”

Your Dad was doing the dishes, which was something that shocked you to your core. You felt rooted in place, watching as he placed a clean dinner plate onto the drying rack. It was such a simple, ordinary thing to most, but he always insisted that this was your job, along with many other chores. He’d pick out every little thing about it that you were doing wrong—even if you were doing nothing wrong at all—and he’d make you pay for it.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The nickname sent shivers down your spine. This doesn’t feel right. “How was school?”

You stayed standing where you were, shifting in place only slightly. “It was good.” You nodded. Your hands were behind your back, and you gripped them together tightly, praying that they would stop shaking.

“Really?”

You felt the pressure of the situation press down on your shoulders, threatening and hoping for your bones to crack under the intensity of it all. You nodded at him, with a light hum, not wanting your voice to waver if you spoke.

“Nothing too interesting happen today?”

You faintly shook your head.

“Well, maybe tomorrow might be more eventful, hmm?” He smiled, but it almost felt sinister. You knew it meant nothing good.

Your Dad continued to do the dishes, confusion slowly creeping up your spine. You didn’t understand.

When he reached over to put a clean cup on the rack, his hand was noticeably too far from the rack, but he let the glass fall from his fingertips anyway. You jumped slightly as the glass hit the ground, the clear shimmering glass shattering into pieces as it hit the ground. Your Dad tsked, sighing as he observed the mess he’d made with an unsettling glint in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, “looks like you’re gonna have to clean this up.”

You didn’t realize you’d frozen in place until he repeated himself louder. Like instinct, you started picking up the pieces of glass. He’d started telling you how this was all you fault that the cup broke, even though you both knew it couldn’t possibly be your fault.

“This is what you get for that call I got earlier today.”

You faltered for a moment, but kept picking up the glass.

“Are you ignoring me now?!”

You immediately shook your head, but he was having none of it. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to your feet. Your heart was in your throat as he pushed you against the counter with an angry glint in his eyes.

"After everything I've done for you, and you can't even manage to get to class on time?! You'll ruin my reputation!" He yelled at you. He raised a hand, slapping you across the face. "Ungrateful.” He seethed. He raised a hand to hit you again, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong, holding you in place. He hit you again. "Worthless." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up and throwing you onto the glass covered ground. You cried lout as you hit the floor, feeling a small piece of glass pierce your cheek where your head hit the ground.

This wasn't how it usually went. He was being worse than usual. Usually, he'd hit you in places it couldn't be seen, like your ribs. It was why you'd stick to one piece swim suits. He knew where he could hurt you without people noticing. You don't know why it's different this time—whether it was a bad day at work or lack of sleep—but he didn't seem to care about where he hurt you or who would see.

He looked down on you, clearly liking how much power he had over you. He then huffed, giving you a harsh kick to the ribs. You felt the air escape from your lungs as you wheezed out at the pain, and he walked off with a scoff.

You don’t know how long you stayed there on the floor, surrounded by a halo of broken glass, your ribs and face slowly turning red and purple from the hits. You stayed long enough that the house had gone completely silent—your Dad had left.

So, you shakily pushed yourself up, gripping onto the counter for balance. It took you what felt like an unbearable amount of time to get to the front door and out the house, and you couldn’t even describe how long the walk to the château felt. With how hard your head hit the floor, you were surprised you hadn’t collapsed yet.

You dropped yourself onto the bench on the porch of the château, not having the energy to go any further.

You heard a door open, and the sound of someone lightly cursing, then your name being called. Messy blonde hair came into your view, and blue sad eyes. He said your name again.

You groaned.

“What happened? Oh, my God, you— are you— fuck.” JJ picked you up, bringing you inside. He put you on the couch gently, rushing out of the room. You almost felt bad, really. You didn’t want to put all of this pressure on him, but you didn’t know where else to go.

You weren’t as close to the pogues as everyone else in the group was, because you were a bit newer to the group. You hung out with them all the time, but you didn’t feel like you were attached at the hip quite yet.

JJ returned only a few moments later with a first aid kit. You trusted him to do a good job, because you knew he’s handled things like this before. No one really told you about JJ’s home life, but it was no secret on the island of what kind of person Luke Maybank was. They saw the state he was in, and they’d see JJ walk around with bruises, and then people’d start talking. It was easy to figure out that JJ Maybank had a hard life.

You didn’t realize he’d started tending to your wounds until you felt a sharp pain in your cheek, and JJ pulled away the piece of glass. He apologized, clearly stressed and upset, and you felt guilty again.

“What happened?” His voice caught in his throat a little when he spoke. Just because you weren’t as close with him as the rest of them were with him doesn’t mean he didn’t care. You were best friends, and the lack of having years of memories didn’t change that. You had your entire life ahead of you to make some.

You found yourself unable to speak even though you wanted to, worrying again about your Dad somehow finding out. It pained you to admit the amount of control he had over you.

But you wanted to be helped. It was a desperate, aching feeling that you carried with you in every step. Every time you spoke, the words almost fell off your tongue but then you’d falter, saying something else with a smile that you weren’t so sure was real anymore. If there was anyone to speak to, and if there was any time to do it, it was to say it to JJ right now.

“It was…” you felt like the walls were caving in on you as you had a moment where you thought he wouldn’t even believe you. There were hardly any signs of anything happening in your home before, and your Dad always looked so polite and put together.

When JJ saw your hesitance, the words dying in your mouth, he felt his worry spike. He hoped his assumption was wrong.

“My, uhm…” you held back a cry from what had happened and from the pain of JJ cleaning your wounds, “my Dad.”

The secret was finally out and into the world, and you didn’t know how to feel. You were relieved, but for some reason you couldn’t get your hands to stop shaking.

“Fuck, I—“ JJ’s heart was in his throat as he continued to clean your wounds as gently as possible. He felt like a lit candle slowly slowly dying down at your revelation. You, who was always smiling and laughing; cracking jokes with the pogues like you’d known them for years; and giving out kindness like your life depended on it… you were more like JJ than he’d initially thought.

JJ didn’t know what to say, for a moment or two. He continued to aid you, chewing on his lower lip in thought. He’d always dealt with his pain with jokes, which he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate or not. Maybe you could use a laugh right now though.

“Dad’s suck, huh?”

In your haze of tears and hurt, a small and weak laugh bubbled from your chest. “Yeah, they do.”

With some of the tension lifted off your shoulders, the next short silence that followed wasn’t so bad, more so welcomed with the knowledge that JJ believed you, and he cared about you. He didn’t outright say it, but you knew it to be true.

When he zipped up the first aid kit, placing it on the table, he then turned to you. “This uh… this been going on long?” You knew serious conversations weren’t exactly his strong suit.

You only nodded in reply.

“You can tell us anything, you know? We’re pogues, man. Whether you like it or not we’re not leaving you behind. All right?”

You nodded again, this time letting a tear slip. You put your head down, wiping it away. JJ frowned when you muttered out an apology.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For being weak.”

JJ was getting déjà vu, watching the way you cried and apologized for it. He knew the feeling of feeling weak all too well. “Crying doesn’t make you any weaker, y’know.”

Your head snapped up as you were about to protest.

“It doesn’t.” He insisted, leaning forward to show how much he meant it. “If that’s something that your dad told you, than he’s wrong. He doesn’t know shit.” JJ felt his heart cracking at the sight of more tears pooling in your waterline. “The fact that you’ve put up with this so long on your own shows how strong you are, y’know that?… you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.”

Before you knew it his arms were wrapped around you, putting you close. You cried harder at the comfort, feeling warmth blossom on your chest.

Eventually you two pulled away, and he settled for resting a hand on your shoulder.

“My head hurts.” You said, holding a hand up to your temple while blinking tiredly.

“Did you hit it off something?”

You nodded. “The floor.”

JJ suppressed his anger, instead saying, “All right, you’ll have to rest later, in case you have a concussion.” The idea of not being able to close your eyes and sleep made you internally groan, but you knew he was right.

You were grateful that JJ was the one here. Even though you’d have to face your Dad again later, right now you were content with spending the night at the château with JJ, laughing a little brighter than before.

@ sakufilms

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x platonic reader #gender neautral reader #platonic #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #no romantic relationships #No romance #angst #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort #all my works

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losttinwritings · 2 months

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comfort

[ Shawn Mendes x GN!Reader ] [928 words]

SUMMARY: After a rough day, Shawn manages to comfort you and make you feel better.

WARNINGS: hint of angst, but mostly fluff

A-N: Already edited two of my old mcyt fics I deleted. This one, then a sapnap one. Also, again, this is based on a personal experience of mine.

[masterlist]

The curtains remained closed over the large window, stopping the sunlight from seeping into the room. You had closed them to make it appear as dark as possible inside with your only light source coming from a small candle on the night-stand. You were currently lying bundled up underneath the doona covers of your bed.

H/c locks of hair spread out atop the pillow that your head currently rests on, and your phone neatly settled in your hand, switched on as you stared at it sadly. You felt like shit if you were being completely honest, with tear-filled eyes and slight red tinted cheeks.

The constant feeling of jealousy rested in the pit of your stomach as you scrolled through instagram, photos of your old best-friend filling up the brightened phone screen as she stood with her new friends and boyfriend, each with a large smile on their faces.

Why did life have to be so difficult? How could it be so cruel? Making you regret every shitty decision you'd made in the past. It was simply a routine for you now, where at least every few or so weeks you'd find yourself crying your heart out at the constant reminder of your friend. At the horrible reminder that you hardly talked anymore to each other.

A sob escaped your mouth, not bothering to cover it with your hand. Your boyfriend was out, he wasn't home at the moment.

You didn't want to burden him with your problems, especially if he was too focussed on his music without having to worry about you. Instead, you kept it to yourself and allowed the sad emotions to wash over when you were in private, when you were home alone.

It could have been at least one or two hours later with you just lying there in the same position, bawling. You couldn't really tell how long it'd been, though.

That you had eventually not heard the quiet footsteps of Shawn heading towards the bedroom, nor could you hear the sound of the door opening as he walked inside. His eyes briefly glanced around the medium-sized room until they finally landed on your figure, where your soft sobs and small sniffles could be heard.

"Y/n? Are you ok?" Shawn asked, the feeling of worry already managing to appear onto his features as he shut the door behind him. He felt like his heart cracked a little at hearing you cry, as he hated when he saw you do it. All he wanted was to be able to make you a little happier.

"Y-yes?" Your voice felt a tad too hoarse, and it stuttered a bit from how much you'd been crying today.

You didn't trust yourself to say anything else, as to not let anymore of the sadness you felt become even more evident to him. So biting your lip to suppress more sobs, then shaking your head briefly, you turned onto your side, facing away from Shawn and setting your phone down upon the bedside table.

You were tired of looking at the exact same images that swarmed your instagram feed. It only ever made you sadder every time.

Shawn, noticing you didn't want to talk much, carefully ran a hand through this short brown hair and carefully moved himself closer to the bed where you resided. He gently kicked off the shoes he had on and situated himself nearest to where you lay on your side.

He wanted to pull you into a hug. He wanted to distract you from whatever was making you feel like this. He just wanted you to be happy and your usual self. The man felt himself slip underneath the covers now, turned to face your back, wrapped his strong arms around you, and tugged you gently back into his chest.

You were surprised at first by this sudden action but eventually managed to relax into his warm and comforting embrace. Turning around in his arms, you buried your head into Shawn's chest. Your eyes felt puffy and red from crying as you let a few more tears slip down onto your cheeks and slightly dampened the cotton of your boyfriend's shirt.

"A-are you ok?" Shawn hesitated at first before asking again. His hand came to run through the soft and gentle tresses of your hair, with a worried feeling still swimming in those eyes you always managed to get lost in somehow. He wanted you to be ok, but he knew right now you were far from it.

You shook your head, burying your head further into Shawn's hard chest, as his arms wrapped a little tighter around you as if to tell you everything was going to be ok. You could feel his gaze locked onto your smaller figure, as you still struggled to stop the tears from falling down your face at every thought of your old friend.

How you weren't entirely sure if everything would be fine. You did know, however, that as long as Shawn was in your life, and he was willingly ready to comfort you, then you would be perfectly okay. At least you hoped you would.

And with those last lingering thoughts, you felt yourself distracted once again, as you managed to comfortably fall into a peaceful slumber, surrounded by the warmth of your boyfriend's familiar embrace.

#shawn mendes x reader #fanfiction #imagines #fluff #angst #x reader #shawn mendes

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multisfabulis · 1 year

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Stay

Word Count: 2431

Here's my last fic of the year 2022! After the enormous trouble I had with my previous project last month, this felt like a breeze to write!

However, there is a bit of sad news I must share. This is going to be the last RLD fic I'll be posting, at least for the time being! The reason for why is that I simply don't have many ideas left to write for RLD and the ideas I do have need to be fleshed out more and given coherence. Right now, they're VERY rough and shoddy, to the point they need time dedicated to planning them out that I won't have in the near future. This doesn't mean I won't come back to RLD, though! Once things have slowed down some and I'm able to really conceptualize on what I have, then RLD will be brought back out into the spotlight. Until then, the dregs' will be going into the shadows.

Maybe it's because I knew RLD would go into an indefinite hiatus after this that I decided to write this idea out. I didn't plan it that way but it feels appropriate. This is pretty much a marriage proposal fic in all but name because when you think about it, isn't marriage just a legal way of saying you're choosing to commit to someone and spending the rest of your life with them? Of course, there had to be some angst thrown in here because these two boys have issues and it wouldn't be a RLD fic without it!

One last thing I want to say is that this was beta'd by my dear friend rosemaryblues! They admittedly had problems with this, due to it not really being their style, but they were still gracious enough to look over this and edit it so thank you!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt | Support me on Ko-fi!

Okay.

Today was the day.

It was a day Ravi had been both dreading and looking forward to. A day in which he’d ask Luce a question. It had weighed on his mind for years now and Ravi had finally worked up the courage to ask it.

Sure, it took several failed attempts due to him chickening out like a pussy every time, but still!

In his hands was a small, plain white box. He didn’t bother wrapping it up or putting it in a gift bag because it would only call more attention to the occasion, attention he definitely didn’t need. However, it was what was inside the box that gave him the most anxiety.

Inside was a handmade gift, something he had made for Luce in only a span of a few days. Something like this was rather uncharacteristic of him, but he worried the most over whether Luce would even like it or not.

If he did, then everything was well and good. If he didn’t, well…it would certainly make what Ravi planned on doing afterwards super awkward.

He heaved a sigh. There was no use in thinking about it. He just needed to get it over with! Steeling his resolve, he called out, “Luce, you wanna come in here?”

He could hear the sound of footsteps approaching from outside the room. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited. To say he was scared shitless of what would happen next was an understatement. This was a hell of a gamble for him to take. All the years he spent bluffing and charming his customers hadn’t prepared him for anything like this.

Luce entered the room, a quizzical look on his face.. Ravi still couldn’t get over the transformation he’s had in the four years they’d known each other. Before, Luce was practically a dead man walking, with his bones threatening to split open his pale skin as his dull red eyes peered out from the shadows of his own making. Now everything about him seemed to scream that he was alive, from how he glowed in the sunlight to the way his smile looked positively gleaming with life. He was, to put it simply, absolutely and irrevocably beautiful.

“Is everything all right? You normally don’t…” His voice trailed off as he noticed the box in Ravi’s hands. “What’s that?”

“It’s…a present?” he replied rather comically, holding it out to Luce as he felt warmth rushing to his cheeks. “Just hurry up and take it already.”

Luce gave it a curious glance before turning his gaze back to Ravi. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just take the damn box, Luce.”

Luce took the box from him with a bemused expression on his face. Ravi watched him pull off the lid and peel away the thin sheet of paper hiding within to look at what was inside. He saw his eyes widen in shock as he took out something that seemed to resemble a band of some sort. Here it was, the moment of truth.

Wrapped around Luce’s hand was a homemade necklace. There was a simple black cord just big enough for him to put his head through since Ravi knew how much trouble he had with clasps. Next were a few small beads on either side of the cord that were deep shades of red, violet, and blue to help splash some color on the otherwise dark palette. Then there was the main ornament, a crow feather that had taken way too long to find.

Shifting his gaze towards Ravi, Luce asked in almost breathless wonder, “What is this for?”

“It’s something I should’ve given you a long time ago,” he replied, fixing his eyes to the ground in embarrassment. The way Luce was looking at him right now was almost too much for him to handle. “You’ve been with me and Amelia for a few years now and I figured I should welcome you into the family. Not that you hadn’t been a part of it, this just makes it official!”

“Wow, I…I don’t even know what to say.” Taking in a deep breath, he slipped the necklace on and held the feather gently between his fingers. “Snowbird…thank you so, so much for this. It means a lot to me.”

“It’s okay? It’s not too loose?” He stepped forward to examine how the necklace fit around his neck. “A bracelet would’ve been too inconvenient for you and I know how sensitive your ears are so that’s why---”

Ravi found himself drawn into a tight embrace as Luce whispered into his ear, “It’s perfect. Thank you, Ravinn.”

Ravi returned the hug with just as much strength, nuzzling his cheek into Luce’s chest. God, he still couldn’t believe a man as good as Luce would love him and want to be with him. He didn’t deserve someone like him.

That’s what made the next part of this so nerve-wracking. It was finally time for him to ask the question.

“There was also something else--” he pulled away from Luce, gripping onto his arms gently as he looked up at him-- “to the present. I wanted to ask you something, something important.”

“Oh, well, okay,” Luce replied, flashing Ravi a small smile, “Um, shoot?”

“Would you…I mean, would you want to…” Fuck, this was harder than he thought it’d be. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, willing his nerves to calm down. Rip it off like it was a band-aid. “Would you…want to stay with me?”

His words hung between them for a time. He could see the gears turning in Luce’s head as he tried to glean the meaning behind them. Can’t fault him for lack of effort, he supposed. The question seemed so simple at first, but Luce knew Ravi long enough to know he wouldn’t ask something like that unless there was more to it than meets the eye. He was surprisingly intuitive for a guy who spent half his life avoiding people like they were the plague.

“I’m guessing it’s not just for now, right?” Luce asked confusedly.

“Yeah, it’s kinda like a marriage proposal, you know?” Right when those words left his mouth did he realize what he just said. “I-I’m not asking you to marry me, by the way! I sure as shit can’t afford a wedding and I definitely don’t wanna get fucking married because it’d be way too much fucking work and---”

“Snowbird.” Another chuckle spilled out from Luce as he held Ravi closer. “You’re rambling again. Just tell me what you were meaning to say.”

Steadying his breathing, he tightened his grip ever so slightly, “Luce. You have been with me through both the highs and the lows of our entire relationship, seen me at my best and at my worst. It didn’t matter how many times I’d push you away, you would just keep coming back like…the annoying cockroach you are, and I hated how persistent you were. Then we started getting closer and one day…I realized I was in love with you.”

His hands shook as he continued.

“You…see me in a way no one else has and you make me feel happy, and joyful a-and hopeful. I never thought I’d meet someone like you in this hellhole of a place we unfortunately call home and…I honestly can’t imagine my life without you.” Ravi wasn’t used to being so vulnerable but it had to be said. Luce needed to understand just how important this was to him. “So that’s why I’m asking if you will…stay with me. Be with me until our time is up.”

“Do I want to spend my life with you, is what you’re asking.”

“W-well, when you put it that way…”

“Then yes. I’ll spend the rest of my life with you.”

Time seemed to freeze. There was no way he misheard that, right?

Luce said yes.

He said yes to staying with him. To being with him until the end of their days. That was what Ravi wanted. He wanted Luce to be with him.

So then why couldn’t he accept it?

“But…why? Why would you…”

“What do you mean, why?” Luce asked, concern shifting across his face. He lifted a hand up to Ravi’s cheek as he continued, “I want to stay with you. That’s what you want, right?”

“But why?! Why would you want to stay with me?!” His grip on Luce tightened like a vice as his breathing grew more frantic. “I don’t understand, why…”

Why was he sabotaging himself like this? Wasn’t it all well and good that Luce wanted to spend the rest of his life with him? Yet he just couldn’t believe Luce would willingly choose to subject himself to such a torturous idea. After all, Ravi was too vile, too wretched, too much of an asshole for anyone to want to be with. What in the ever-loving hell was Luce thinking?

Breathing out a sigh, Luce pressed on, “Then help me understand. Why do you think I shouldn’t stay with you?”

“Because I don't deserve you!” Ravi pushed himself off of Luce. He couldn’t stop shaking. Everything was going to hell and it was all his fault. “Why would you ever want to be with me, knowing the kind of person I am?”

“Snowbird---”

“I get annoyed by you, I call you by all sorts of horrible names, I treat you like shit and you don’t deserve any of it!” His eyes burned but the words would not stop flowing from his mouth. “I don’t deserve you…I sometimes wonder if you know how much I love you and I should be better but I can’t and---”

Luce closed the distance between them and drew Ravi into his arms, stopping him from saying anything else. Quiet sobs spilled forth from his lips as Ravi clung onto Luce with a strength he didn’t know he had. No amount of comfort would ever silence the voices in his head screaming at him the awful things he’d known about himself for years.

Selfish. Greedy. Entitled. He never wanted to let Luce go, he wanted him to stay with him till the day he died. But he also knew that wouldn’t be fair to Luce, especially when he’d spent so much of his life unaware of the beauty that laid out there in the world beyond this city. Luce deserved someone better than a guy who’d love to chain him down to him.

“Ravinn.” Luce pulled Ravi away but still kept an arm around his shoulders. “I want you to look at me, okay?”

There was no doubt he looked like a downright mess, his eyes red and puffy and his makeup smudged from crying so much. It took him a moment but he slowly raised his head to look at Luce.

All he saw was a tender understanding as Luce wiped away a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Listen, I know how hard it is for you to be open and honest with me, or anyone, really. You spent years putting walls up in order to protect yourself and I get it. I do. But that's why it means so much to me that you trust me enough to let them down, to let me in. It makes me happy to know I’ve earned that trust from you.

“I don’t need to wonder if you love me because I know you do. I see it in all the little things you do for me.” His lips curled up into a fond smile as he reflected back on the past in thought. “You always take the time to listen to me and check in on me whenever I’m having an episode. You think about my boundaries to an almost frustrating degree but I know it’s just your way of letting me have a choice in the matter. You’ve given me things I never had the joy of having as a child…So, so many things, Snowbird. But there’s one very important thing I can’t get from anyone else. Do you know what that is?”

He couldn’t even begin to guess the answer. What could he have given to Luce that he couldn’t receive from literally anyone else?

“It’s safety.” Luce took Ravi’s hands into his own, holding them gently. “You make me feel safe, Ravinn. I’m not afraid to be myself around you, to fall apart around you. I’m not scared of you hurting me because I just know you wouldn’t. You and the snowdove are like home to me.

“I don’t want to go through the rest of my life without you there by my side. That’s why I’m staying with you, no matter how much you think I shouldn’t.” He gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before suppressing a chuckle. “You know, if you didn’t want me to choose, you shouldn’t have told me what I wanted mattered all those years. So this is, in a way, your fault.”

Ravi bit down on his lip to keep from cursing him out. Just because Luce was right didn’t mean he had to go and say it! Still, that wasn’t enough to stop Ravi from wrapping his arms around him once more and burying his face into his chest. Screw it. He decided to throw something out into the air to show Luce had gotten through to him.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Luce felt safe around him? It was…surprising, especially since Ravi didn’t consider himself strong in any regard. Yet he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him a little happy to hear that. If only he had the courage to admit the feeling was mutual…

Maybe he’d never fully believe he deserved Luce. Changing one’s way of thinking wasn’t exactly an overnight thing, after all. If he truly wanted to stay with Ravi of his own volition, genuinely and wholeheartedly, then who was he to deny him that? All Ravi knew for sure was that the future was looking a little brighter with the stubborn, tenacious crow known as Luce by his side.

Softly, his voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I love you, Luce.”

“I love you too--” Luce placed a hand on the nape of Ravi’s neck, prompting him to look up at him-- “snowbird.”

Their promise was then sealed with a kiss. It didn’t matter to them how much time passed between now to the day they moved on from this world. They only cared that, for tomorrow, the day after, and every day since then…

They would stay.

#airi's writing #oc; Ravi #oc; Luce #Red Light Dregs

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catzula · 4 years

Text

Confessions.

A\N: is this self-indulgent? Yes, yes it is. And did I cry writing this? Positive. Okay, the thing is, this is something I've been wanting to publish for so long, but I didn't have the courage to do so. But recently, I told someone about the whole ordeal and the reaction I got was so different than I expected, so I thought why not write this? Even if one person sees it and relates, or maybe even encourages them to talk to anyone about it, (even if you don't have anybody please I beg you come to me I'll always listen to anything you want to say), I would be so happy. Please don't think this is because I'm trying to get sympathy points, it's not. I don't want anything like that, just to actually help anyone who was in my situation. This fic (rant more like it) isn't fully based on my situation, mine is different, but I didn't feel comfortable talking about that, oh and this isn't edited, I didn't really want to read it over and over again so idk. So, anyway, I'll be posting one of the requests today too, it's fluff yay and my first aizawa attempt, so... Yeah. A/n is longer than the fic itself, seems like it.

Warnings: delicate subject, mentions of sexual harrasment, reader isn't in a good mental state, guys if it's triggering don't read it please I have no idea if there's any other things that could be triggering

Genre: angst, some fluff in the end

Pairing: bakugou x reader

W.c: 1,6k

You felt weak.

You have never felt this weak before, so helpless and unsafe.

You felt like you weren't supposed to talk about this with anyone. It was like if you told anyone, they would shame you, like they wouldn't believe you, or maybe even tell you it was your fault.

It didn't make any sense, why would anyone think that your logical part asked. But your insecurities wouldn't let you tell anything to anyone, making you feel sick when you tried to even hint it.

So you decided it was the best not to say anything, hide it forever even. Though you thought that was for the best for everyone, it was the hardest thing you probably ever did.

Your friends were aware of how jumpy you were late, how whenever someone touched you for anything, or even brushed you slightly, you froze with fear. But when they asked about it, you would brush it off as nothing.

They noticed how moody you were too, how frustrated you were with everything, crying, or getting mad at random, small things.

How you distanced yourself from people, hid for them, isolating yourself.

It was hard for them to see you like this -you were trying your hardest to smile and laugh like you always did, but they could see how much it hurt you to pretend- but it was especially hard for one certain angry boy. Bakugou was going insane, not knowing what was hurting you so and not being able to do anything about it.

Though he could never admit it, he had a crush on you. The worst kind, at that, or so he thought. He didn't like this feeling, of liking someone so much that you were constantly on his mind, his mood changing according to yours, laughing when you laughed, getting furious when you cried.

And lately, it was killing him. He knew you had feelings for him too, he knew how much you tried to look happy when he was around but it was just hurting you and that was even worse.

It was only until that one day he heard your soft voice, trembling with sadness as you explained what was going on to your best friend, Kirishima.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it was impossible for him to just leave when you were crying so.

"I'm sorry." You told Kirishima between your tears. "I'm so sorry."

***

You knew you had to tell him some time. You just hoped it would be later. But there was no running away when Kirishima pulled you to the roof, making you sit and waiting for you to speak.

"You have to tell me." He told you as you squirmed to get away. "I need you to speak to me, Yn. I need to know so I can help you, you're my best friend and I can't keep pretending nothings going on."

"I can't either." You answered, whispering without even noticing.

"I can't lie anymore, I'm tired." You sighed and hid your face in your hands. "Eiji, you have to promise me you'll listen to me until the end, and don't do anything I tell you not to do."

"Of course." He promised.

"This is about my professor." You finally admitted.

"The one you get along very well with?" He asked cautiously, afraid that wrong words were going to make you stop.

"Uh, yeah." You answered with a dry, humorless chuckle. "Apparently, we weren't getting along for the right reasons." At this, his head snapped up, his eyes locked with yours. "What?!"

"He-he tries to touch me." You mumbled in your hands. "Y/N, what the fuck does that mean?" He tried to stay calm, but how could someone stay calm over that?

Your insecurities infecting you, you felt like he was questioning you, not believing you and you swallowed hardly. "You know what? I-it's really not that important, I exaggerated." You told him, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. But he wasn't having it. He scooted near you, taking your hand in his. "No, Y/N, we have to talk about this! What do you mean by- by trying to touch you?" Your heart hammering in your chest you decided to rip the band-aid off.

"He touches me." You repeated, a lump in your throat, not allowing you to speak more than a whisper. "And he always has that- that smile... that smile that shows he knows what he's doing, and he knows how weak I am, how I can never do anything about it." You went on, feeling the hot tears tumbling down your cheeks. You shuddered with the unwanted memories.

"Did he-" Kirishima stopped talking, wide eyes watching you. "Did he ever..." Although he couldn't finish his sentence, you knew what he meant. "No." You told him. "He never went all the way, it's more like he's toying with me."

"How did this happen?" He asked, words so silent, you almost didn't hear them.

You shrugged. "It started small." Your voice faltering with tears. "At first I thought it wasn't on purpose." You told him as you relived the memories. "His hand sometimes brushed my breasts and my skirt... He would also press his body against mine when he was walking in the hallways..."

Oh my God, this was terrible. Just talking about it made you feel so weak. Why couldn't you just say something, do anything? Why did you always freeze with fear instead of fighting? Maybe some people just didn't have it. Did this make you unworthy?

"Then it just started to get worse. He would full-on grab me when he 'helped' me with my questions, would always come so- so close to me that I could feel him. He started to corner me, made me stay after class, and just always tried to catch me alone."

"Oh my God," Kirishima mumbled, unable to say anything else. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Yes. Why didn't you?

"I was scared." You whispered. "I was scared of- of you thinking I was lying, that I was saying this for attention, that I was exaggerating, that this wasn't important that this was my fault."

Was it your fault? Maybe you could have worn pants instead of skirts. Or maybe you smiled at him too much, did you give him the wrong impressions? Was it really your fault?

His head snapped up, angrier than you had ever seen him. "How could you think all that?" He asked voice laced with anger. "He is a... a well-loved person, Eijirou. Everybody likes him, trusts him and he just looks so nice... Why would anyone believe me when-" You stopped talking when he hugged you once again, tighter than ever before. "I would always believe you."

I would always believe you. Words you longed to hear so damn much, making you cry uncontrollably.

"I feel so weak, Eiji." You said once again, the nickname you had given him falling off your lips for the first time in a while. "I can't even say anything to him... I'm weak... I'm afraid of people judging me, and I just can't feel safe anymore. I can't even trust myself."

"I'm so sorry." He told you between the sniffs he was trying to hide, you thought it was ironic that he was the one apologizing. "I'm so sorry Y/N."

Both of you weren't aware of the angry boy listening to you, shaking with anger and sadness. He couldn't believe there was someone out there making you feel like this when he himself couldn't even dare to tell you his feelings, let alone touch you.

***

"Where are you taking me?" You asked at the boy tugging at your wrists, pulling you somewhere.

Bakugou came to your door the next day he heard your conversation with Kirishima, a plan in his mind to help you, at least a little bit.

"Okay, we're here." He told you. He had brought you on a small field, surrounded by trees and flowers, an empty space in the middle. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, but how could it not when he looked this way to you?

"I will teach you self defense." He told you.

"What?" Wasn't that a little too random? "You heard me." He answered gruffly. "I'll teach you how to defend yourself."

"I- I mean- thank you!" You said, laughing a little. "But I don't understand..."

Oh no.

"Why?" You wanted- needed his answer to be something, anything other than what you had in mind. But it was obvious that it wasn't, when he stayed quiet.

"You heard us." You whispered, hand trembling with fear. The boy you liked, the one you had the biggest crush on, had heard how pathetic you were, how you didn't even have the courage to speak, to push this man's hand and confront him.

"No-" you choked. "It's not what you think." You said as you thought about what you could say, but your mind went blank when his hand caressed your cheek. "Don't." He told you. "Don't lie to me, you don't need to. You don't have to talk about it either, but I'll be here, always here for you to speak, to seek help, and now I will teach you self defense. You said you didn't feel safe, you felt weak. I'll be your safe place if you need me to, but I want you to feel safe yourself too."

You opened your mouth to say something but he didn't let you.

"Look, this isn't because I'm pitying you, or because I think you're not capable of defending yourself. I just- I want to help you, be with you, and this is the only thing I can do."

"Thank you." You whispered and without giving any warnings, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this helps."

A long silence went between you, allowing you to ask that one question.

"But why are you doing all this for me, Bakugou?"

He pulled back with your question, though so slightly that your noses almost touched each other. "It's because-" he stopped, fear clawing in him. What if you didn't feel the same way? He knew you did, but what if you didn't?

He gulped and took a deep breath. You have been acting so brave for the longest time, he couldn't even understand what you had went through- even though you couldn't see how brave you were yourself. So he decided it was his turn to be brave now.

"It's because I'm in love with you." Your breath stuck in you, eyes wide but a smile of relief on your lips. "Bakugou..." You whispered as he leaned in a little more.

"I love you too."

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Good Intentions with Bad Outcomes

Requested by anon: Could you write for shelby sis who fights with tommy and in his anger he says something really hurtful to her and she leaves. Tommy doesn't take it seriously cause he thinks she'll be back soon anyways but she stays way a couple weeks because she had to hide from someone? and when she comes back everyone is angry at first till they realize that something's off with her and she tells them later on? With a fluffy family end? Sorry if it's too specific:)

Pairing: Tommy + Shelby!Female!Reader, Shelby & Gray family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Swearing, angst, reader being best friends with Esme that’s a warning and we all know it, fluff, smol sexual reference, mention of homophobia + abuse, mention of blinding; Peaky Edition™, slight straying from request(?)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @peakysputain

Tags just for this fic: @mzcrazy2

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

He snapped.

It was just a small argument, at first, but Y/n wouldn’t stop digging. She fought first, he tried to reason with himself, but he knew it was his fault. He was going to apologize, as soon as she dropped the act and came home.

He waited in a chair by the door.

Any moment now. Just a couple seconds and she’d come bursting through the door, admitting her defeat and accepting her brother’s apology, perhaps even apologizing herself.

He checked his pocket watch.

If not now, maybe, and preferably, before 4 am. Tommy grew tired with each passing moment. He knew Pol would kill him if anything happened to Y/n, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself either, so he told himself to sit by the front door and wait for her, but sleep just seemed far too important. It was something he didn’t get much, and it wasn’t like he could stop himself.

So he slept on the couch. Like a baby, might he add.

However, his awakening was not as peaceful as his sleep. Polly slapped his leg rather harshly with her glove. Her eyes were beat red and her heart was racing faster than the horses her and her family bet on. “Wake up, you bastard!”

“Whatever seems to be the matter, Pol?” He rubbed his eye sleepily and sat upright, but yet again was attacked by his aunt’s gloves.

“You know damn well what’s the matter!” Tommy gave her a look of confusion. “Your sister is missing, goddammit!”

He chuckled, loudly. His amusement earned him more attacks from the gloves as Polly glared down at him, “What the bloody hell do you think is so funny about Y/n being missing?”

“She’s not missing Pol, she’s too fucking chicken to run. Just, relax, alright Pol? She’ll be back in what, five hours?” Thomas smirked at his aunt before grabbing his coat and walking out the front door. He went on his way, walking back to his own home.

“Tommy! Like I’ve said, he’s just a friend!”

“Yeah? Just a friend? Look at him, he just wants to get in your knickers, Y/n/n!” He laughed with his older and younger brother, watching the boy, their sister’s age, flush red with eyes the size of saucers. He noticed his sister look away, equally embarrassed as her guest. “Is that what you are, huh Y/n? A whore? Look at that brothers, our baby sister’s become a whore!”

Y/n grunted and pushed past them, trying to get out of the room, but Tommy grabbed her arm. His teasing smile was long gone. “Y/n/n. Send. Him. Home.”

“You lost the right to call me that when you called me a whore.”

Weeks had passed. Still no sign of Y/n.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too! Whoring around with some kid-”

“Thomas! I’m not a fucking whore! You may keep your sanity by sneaking around with those women, but I can assure you, brother,” she spat the word with a certain venom to her tone, “none of the whores in the whole bloody fucking world could show you how much of a worthless, sad, piece of shit excuse for a brother you are. Lucky for me,” she leaned in, speaking through clenched teeth, “I’m no whore.”

Y/n grabbed her coat and ran out the door, flipping Tommy off in the process of her exit mission. The shocked expression lazily covered with a horrible attempt of a blank look on Tommy’s face was priceless. He never expected nor meant for it go this far.

That’s when she left. That’s when he laughed to himself and waited by the door, telling himself over and over that she was only kidding around. That she was going to come home.

It had almost been a whole fucking month.

He finally saw the truth.

She was either missing, serious about leaving, or had, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, died. And he was the one who had to break the news to his family. When he did, many different reactions were shared.

Esme, who held a close bond with Y/n, slapped Tommy with small “cat-fight” hits to his arm until John pulled her back. John refused to look at Tommy, full of his own guilt for not stopping the joke before it got too far. Arthur drank his sorrows away, but not before bowing his head in shame as well.

And as for Polly, she gave Thomas a disappointed, disapproving glare and hit his arm, similar to Esme, but with full force, figurative steam coming from her ears accompanied by the tears flowing from her brown orbs. The action spelled it out better than words could’ve. Not that she would’ve said anything about it anyways, as she currently wished to be on something, anything, worse than “not on speaking-terms” with her nephew.

They knew Y/n was at fault as well, but she wasn’t there at that moment, so Tommy was facing his punishment while they had their free time. Esme baked Y/n’s favorite Romani treats, the reasoning quite obvious when Pol and Ada had pointed it out,

“You’re going through a grieving process. She may not have died, for all we know, but you feel that you lost her, and it’s hurting you intensely.”

Some days, Ada joined in, baked her share, and brought them back to her house. Today, however, it was just Esme.

Or so she thought.

The feeling of unease washed over her. A chilly wind blew into the room. She’d had her fair share of the supernatural, but this presence felt alive. Esme’s hand reached for the knife before she spun around, dropping the blade at the sight in front of her.

“Y/n- what the bloody hell...?” Y/n tried to walk over for a hug, but only managed to get half way before Esme snapped back to her senses and hit her friend over and over again with one of her aprons. “Where” hit “Have” hit “You” hit “Been!?”

“Oh you know...exploring.”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you grew up in Birmingham, in fact, you’re still growing up, here, in Birmingham. So tell me. What’s wrong? If you decide not to tell me, just know that John’s sleeping upstairs, and don’t, for one second, think I won’t go wake his lazy arse up.”

“Oh yeah, sure, Esme, maybe get him to tell Tommy to get that stick out his ass, would you? I mean, it’s got to be painful with how far up there he makes it out to be.”

Esme frowned, remembering what Thomas told them all. “Oh hun... you should’ve told me and came over here! I’m sure John wouldn’t have minded, and if he would’ve... well that’s too bad for him, innit?” Y/n giggled softly and began to smile, causing Esme to cheer with joy. “See! Come, I’ll make you some tea!”

“Well? Where the fuck were you!?” Polly inspected Y/n for injuries, finding bruises along wrists.

“Nowhere, I’m fine. I just fell into some trouble and, like Arthur taught me, won.”

Arthur chuckled proudly, “Attagir-”

“No. Tell us the truth, Y/n.”

“I am.”

Polly leaned closer to her niece. They held eye contact, Y/n could see the tears threatening to spill over her Aunt’s lower eye lids. She inhaled, preparing to speak, hesitated, to up the dramatic effect, and finally let a word free. “Liar.”

“To be fair Pol, she had been at my home for the past week-”

A gasp and a cough, both from Pol, sounded in the room from shock. “She what?” she drawled.

“My point is, Aunt Pol, my small home, all the little ones, there would be some points where she’d trip, ya know? Even Esme gets some bruises like that-”

“Mhm. It’s totally from the small house.” Arthur chuckled into his cup, snorting when Pol flicked him on the back of his head. “Anyways, she said it Pol, she’s fine. No broken bones, no bloody noses, John gave an explanation for any bruises, she’s fine.”

“I’m with Polly on this one. She didn’t seem all that well at our home, John, and she didn’t run around enough to get bruises. Sorry, love.” She winced apologetically at her sister-in-law.

Y/n shrugged and walked from the room, trying hard to keep the emotions inside. If she didn’t cry, they couldn’t know that she had lied. Not that it was any use, Pol was already onto her and her siblings were giving her suspicious looks.

Tommy followed his younger sister and closed the door behind himself. “Y/n/n. Are you alrig-”

She hugged him, tightly. Thomas could feel his shirt dampening from his sister’s tears. Y/n broke, despite her plan not to, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her sobs were painful for Tommy to hear. His protective and brotherly instincts kicked in as he processed the muffled cries of the voice belonging to the girl he watched grow up, the girl cared ever so deeply about, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tightly.

“Tommy... I couldn’t help him.”

“Who?” She looked up at him with sad expression. He remembered the night. He called his sister a whore for joking purposes and with the intent of preventing her from ending her night with a broken heart, it didn’t help that he was slightly drunk, and he didn’t realize she’d take it to heart. “I-”

“It’s alright, Tom, you had good intentions, they just didn’t have the best of outcomes.”

“Y/n/n, I shouldn’t have called you that, no matter my intentions.”

She hugged her brother again, both Shelby siblings unaware of the door opening and their audience that stood on the other side of it. “Tommy, you wanna know what happened? I was like you, had good intentions, but a bad outcome.”

“What’s this of bad outcomes?” Pol stepped forward, tears spilling over the brims of her eyes and a small smile upon her lips. Y/n began to cry harder, and Polly wrapped her arms around her after Tommy moved out of the way. She rested her head on Y/n’s and mumbled soft affirmations as her hand moved up and down her back soothingly.

“Tells us what happened, dear, from the start, okay?” Y/n nodded, separating from her aunt and sitting in the middle of her clan, who sat on either the sofa or a chair.

“The boy Tommy assumed was into me, was being abused. I was trying to help, prevent him from being hurt anymore than he already was. His father hated him because he... he likes boys. I figured, if I hung around, his father would think the opposite and leave him alone. But one day he slapped him, right in front of me. I got so mad, I- I- it was like I- like all I could see was red-”

“Deep breath, there’s no rush, little sister.” Arthur rested a hand on Y/n’s shoulder reassuringly, earning a kind and appreciative smile from the girl.

“Thank you, Arthur. I hurt his father, so I wasn’t lying about that part, but he got back up. Illia, the boy, helped me out of his house and ran with me. We got pretty far and ended up staying at a small abandoned cabin, a good place for us while we were in hiding. He managed to find a place with his grandmother out of the UK, who could care less about his romantic or sexual preferences in gender, and that’s when I started for home. We went our separate ways and our hiding was no longer necessary.”

“I have a question.” Ada raised her hand, in attempt of getting her family to notice her. Y/n nodded and awaited her older sister’s question. “If you were free from hiding...why didn’t you come home right away? Why’d you stay with John and Esme for an extra week?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too. We all thought you’d died, Y/n.”

“Oh...” She looked down, wiping away some of her tears, “I didn’t want you to get mad at me. Or have Illia hurt due to certain lovely trios attacking before thinking. He didn’t kidnap me, but if I came back after news of him fleeing Britain spread, you’d probably assume such.”

Polly sat beside her niece with a soft smile and pulled her into yet another hug. “It’s good to have you back. You’ve missed so much, and we’ve missed you. What do you say we eat dinner as a family today, celebrate your return?”

Ada walked over and joined the two women, wrapping her arm around Y/n as well.

“Get over here, all of yous. I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to hug all of us, right now it’s about Y/n-”

“Pol,” Arthur chuckled heartily, “We’re not gonna argue, we missed her too.”

Tommy was first to step up, stopping in front of Y/n. He pulled her into him, welcoming her into a warm hug, then Polly wrapped her other arm around Tommy, Ada mirroring her Aunt. Arthur found a spot, as did Esme and Finn. John muttered something along the lines of “to hell with it” and finally joined in on the family hug.

That night, they celebrated, just as Polly said. The girls exchanged gossip with Y/n about what she had missed, the boys teased her, with lighter jokes this time, and shared the news the girls failed to inform Y/n of. By the end of the night, everyone had passed out in the living room with smiles on their face, adults with alcohol in their stomachs, all apart from Y/n and Tommy.

“Tommy?” He grunted in response to his sister, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Tom paused, inhaling slowly. The entire time, he thought she was the own who owed him an apology, at least a small one. But he was the one who said the words. He was the one who watched her leave without chasing after her. “Don’t be. If anyone here should be sorry, it’s me.” He looked over to her, the siblings holding eye contact, “You’re not a whore, okay? I never should’ve said that, even if it was true or not, it wasn’t kind of me. I hurt you because I misread your friend’s intentions and-”

“Good intentions, bad outcome.”

“Y-yeah. But my intentions were not needed, Y/n/n. They were something I should’ve kept to myself, but I did it with Ada too, and now she and I have... well a relationship that’s not as strong as ours.”

“Tommy,” she knew what he was trying to say, “you could never ruin our relationship. We may fight, but at the end of the day, your my big brother.” She moved closer to him. “I look up to you, admire you, shit, I wish I was you sometimes.”

“You don’t want to be me, trust me.”

Y/n laughed. “You’re right, I don’t want to be you. I don’t think having a stick up my ass sounds the most comforting-”

“Oi, watch what you say, Miss Blinder, you’re messing with the rest of the world now.”

He tickled her, but stopped when she held up a hand and made a face. “Wait- Peaky Blinders..?” He nodded. “No- you aren’t- Tommy!” Thomas shushed his sister with a chuckle that matched hers, pure happiness in the Shelby home.

“Yep. You’re a Blinder now, sister.” He raised a shot glass, “May all your good intentions have greater outcomes.”

“No, actually.”

“What?” He stopped his hand before the glass could reach his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

She smiled at her brother, raising her own glass, “I prefer the good intentions with bad outcomes, after all, if this is the aftermath of a good intention and it’s bad outcome, I’d be more than happy to make sure all my good deeds had bad endings.”

“Careful there sister, one should be wise about how they phrase such a promise.”

He didn’t believe in bad luck, nor God, or really anything, for all Y/n knew. That’s what he led others to believe- yet it was like he was warning her about the possibility of bad luck. Beliefs aside, his words were showing a hidden genuine concern to his sister’s.

“I suppose a few good outcomes are acceptable.” They clinked their glasses together and drank their drinks with matching smiles.

It felt amazing to be back, even better to be back and offered with an opportunity to initiate revenge for Illia. Being a Peaky Blinder had many perks, like the infamous line that was known for being the first thing one hears after losing their sight.

The line that brought motivation to her good intention that could end with a very bad outcome for herself instead of the person she planned it for, had she gone through with it before being presented with the razor dawning cap. The line she’d finally be able to say. The line that could, should, and would be the last thing the evil bastard heard.

Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.

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chibi-beaver · 3 years

Text

I'm in a bad batch kinda mood today and decided to write some Hunter & Omega fluff/angst!

Rating: General

Warnings: none (this is pretty wholesome)

Summary: After Hunter loses his cool with Omega, he remembers what Cut and Suu told him and tries to make things right

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, domestic fluff, parenting, father daughter relationship

There will be Bad Batch spoilers in this so don't read if you haven't watched the latest episode (episode 4)

Honestly, I'm pretty proud of this rn 😁

Story is also attached under the cut if you wanna read it here, if you like it I'd appreciate the notes here and/or kudos on ao3 😁

Edit: I forgot to add some fic tags 😳

Omega had gotten herself into yet another jam. All they had to do was get supplies on Tatooine. It certainly wasn't the nicest planet but it was in the outer rim and for the most part, off the radar of the Empire.

All Omega had to do was stay close to Hunter as they went into Mos Espa. It was supposed to be an in and out supply run but when was any supply run in and out? He should've known that something had to happen but why did it have to happen to Omega?

She had gotten herself into the hands of yet another bounty hunter. Hadn't she learned her lesson after the encounter on Pantora? Hunter thought to himself as he ran through the sandy "streets" of Mos Espa in search of Omega.

"Wrecker, Tech, Echo! I need help finding Omega!" Hunter yelled into his comm.

"I'm on it!" Wrecker replied.

"I'm finishing the ship's repairs but I've sent Echo," Tech said.

"I thought Echo was repairing the ship with you," Hunter said.

"He was, but we're almost done," Tech replied.

Hunter was relieved that he got two of his men helping him find Omega.

Hunter tripped over his feet. The grains of sand were making his feet slide everywhere. Just when things couldn't get any worse, Hunter noticed a Tusken Raider running off with something. Upon closer look, it was his blaster.

Hunter was conflicted on what to do but he eventually ran after the Tusken Raider and tackled it to the ground before ripping the gun out of his tiny hands. Some more Tusken Raiders surrounded Hunter, weapons pointed at him. Probably stolen weapons, he thought. He looked around, looking for an out. He knew if he shot one, he'd subsequently get shot by another, which could incapacitate him, but he couldn't waste any time. If their encounter with the bounty hunter on Pantora taught him anything, he knew that they were cunning and fearless. They would do anything to keep their hands on Omega and would harm anyone who got in their way. Almost like what he would do for Omega. He just wished that she would stop getting into trouble.

Suddenly, they all ran off at the sound of something. Hunter was unsure of the source of the sound until his comm went off.

"You can thank me later, Tuskens hate Krayt Dragons," Tech said.

"How did you know I was-"

"I got my repairs done and I started watching the camera feeds around Mos Espa and noticed some Tuskens bothering you in the background of one," Tech replied.

"Now I'm glad you record the sound of every animal you've heard of," Hunter said, relief permeating his voice.

"I can see the bounty hunter!" Wrecker said into the comm.

"Transmit me your coordinates!" Hunter said.

"How do I do that!?" Wrecker asked.

"I got this, you focus on finding Omega," Tech said as he transmitted Wrecker's coordinates to Hunter and Echo.

Hunter immediately ran to them, meeting up with Echo on the way. Just as they got there, Wrecker got knocked out by Bounty Hunter who seemed to use the weapon he knocked Wrecker out with as a hat.

"I got Wrecker, go find Omega!" Echo said as he tried to help Wrecker.

Hunter obliged to what Echo said as he continued running after the bounty hunter. He was led to a dead-end street where he saw an anooba cornering Omega. Hunter took out his blaster and shot the anooba in the leg, causing him to yelp. Omega was distressed by the sound, as was the bounty hunter who retaliated by throwing his hat like a frisbee at Hunter. Hunter ducked just in time and avoided being hit by the hat. The bounty hunter then took out a weapon of his own and began shooting at Hunter with it. Hunter continued running towards the bounty hunter, to tackle him. It was successful until the anooba came back to tackle Hunter, causing him to drop his blaster.

Omega slowly made her way towards the blaster, but the anooba must have smelt her because he got off of Hunter and jumped on Omega. Hunter took the opportunity to pick up his blaster and pointed it at the bounty hunter's head, just as Echo and Wrecker arrived at the scene. Cornering the bounty hunter. He called his anooba off of Omega as he searched for a way out.

"What do you want with Omega?" Hunter asked, keeping the blaster pointed at the bounty hunter's head. He started speaking in an unknown language.

"Where's Tech when you need him?" Echo muttered as he turned on his comm but didn't say anything.

Hunter repeated the question as Omega approached Wrecker and stood behind his leg, she was trembling.

"He's trying to say that he was put off to it by an unknown client, it's just a job to him, a good-paying job at that," Tech whispered as he listened in.

The bounty hunter didn't answer the question as the anooba brought back his hat. The bounty hunter took the hat and hit Hunter with it before running to make his escape, pushing Echo and Wrecker out of the way.

"What were you thinking?!" Hunter said frustratedly to Omega.

"I-I'm sorry," Omega said.

"I thought you would've learned not to talk to strangers or touch strange animals after Pantora!" Hunter continued.

Omega said nothing in return as she stayed at Wrecker's side.

"You could've gotten yourself killed again! These situations are why I wanted to send you with Cut and Suu! So that you could be safe!" Hunter said. He saw the sad expression on Omega's face immediately after he said that. She looked like she was going to cry.

"Lay off her!" Wrecker said as he took Omega's hand and started back to the ship with Echo.

Hunter quickly began to regret what he had said. The regret kept itself on his mind as he walked back to the ship.

When he got back to the ship, Omega was in her room with the curtain closed.

"Let's get off this desert world," Tech said as he plotted a course for Idaflor. Maybe this time they would actually make it there without needing to repair the ship or to get supplies.

Hunter began to grow concerned as hours passed and Omega had still not left her room. Usually, she wouldn't stay in her room long. Her curious mind always kept her on the go, even though she had seen the inside of the ship countless times. Even if she wasn't feeling curious, she would usually leave to use the fresher. Tech looked back from the pilot's seat at Hunter

"What's wrong?" Tech asked.

"Nothing that you can fix," Hunter said, glancing at Omega's room.

"Well, that's a lie because I know a way to fix most things," Tech said.

"Yea, you can fix ships but you know about as much as I do about parenting," Hunter replied.

"Ah, it's about Omega. Hmmm, well maybe you should talk to her, perhaps discussing whatever happened might help things," Tech said.

Hunter didn't reply. Rather he sat back into his chair while Tech turned back to whatever device he was building. He remembered Tech telling him what it was but he had forgotten. As Hunter thought about what he could do, his mind went back to Cut and Suu.

"Easy, she's not a soldier."

Cut said that to him the first time he lashed out at Omega.

"You're safe, that's all that matters."

Hunter reminded himself that Omega was on the ship with them and not in the hands of that bounty hunter but at the same time, she shouldn't have touched that anooba. They didn't know the animal, it could've been diseased, or as it was in this case, connected to someone dangerous.

"Children will always find ways of getting into trouble, Hunter. It's what they do. Protecting them is what we do".

Hunter thought more about what he had said on Tatooine. Even if some of it was warranted, he shouldn't have brought up Cut and Suu. It was a bit of a sore spot for Omega, knowing that Hunter was going to pawn her off on Cut and Suu, even if he thought it was for her own good.

Hunter decided to approach Omega's room. He climbed up a couple steps of the ladder.

"Omega?" Hunter said.

"Go away!" Omega said.

"I just want to talk," Hunter said. "No yelling this time. I'm not mad." Hunter continued in a gentler tone.

"Fine," Omega said.

Hunter pulled the curtain to side slightly. She was sitting in her room with Lula held in one of her arms as she looked out the window at the whizzing of hyperspace.

Hunter sat in the small face, doing his best to fit. Wrecker clearly designed this space for someone of Omega's size. He eventually sat horizontally in the room, with one leg hanging outside of the space for his own comfort.

"You're gonna get rid of me again, aren't you?" Omega said.

"What? No. You said you wanted to be with us, I promised you that if you wanted to be with us then you will be with us."

"But I screwed up again," Omega said.

"You said it yourself once, you have a lot to learn. But so do I and I realize I was a bit too harsh today. I'm sorry."

"I can't help that I'm curious sometimes," Omega said, thinking back on how it was her who wanted to pet the anooba.

"I know, but sometimes it's better to watch from afar," Hunter said.

Omega didn't say anything in response. Rather she clutched the Lula.

"I'm not going to get rid of you. We want you here just as much as you want to be here. I'm sorry for bringing up Cut and Suu and I'm just glad you're okay," Hunter said.

To Hunter's surprise, Omega moved closer to him and put her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. Hunter was initially taken aback but he soon returned the hug. When they eventually pulled away from one another, Omega smiled.

"Now let's agree to put what happened today behind us," Hunter said.

"Ok," Omega replied.

Hunter made his way back down the ladder and extended a hand out to Omega,

"wanna come down and hang out with us or explore the ship or do whatever you want?" Hunter asked.

"Sure!" Omega said as she came out of her room and started asked Tech various questions about the ship and the controls. Hunter watched and smiled at seeing Omega feeling a bit better.

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revengeisourlullaby · 3 years

Note

Hi I just read “everything happens for a reason” (loved it btw) I was wondering if you could make a sequel to it? Y/N is still try to get over her break up with Thor and Loki reassures her that she is more than enough for him. It would be more vanilla though. (Sorry that this is so long🥺)

it’s not long at all, don’t worry! i was actually contemplating about making a sequel to it. so i already have smth in the works! i’ll have it done probably by the end of the week :))

edit: I’m so sorry for this being so late!! I know I said a week and then my life went up in chaos. Forgive me for my untimely posting. Regardless, here is the sequel to the Loki fic, Everything Happens For a Reason. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None. Just fluffy Loki

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2.3K

You awoke to the pitter-patter of the New York rain falling against the window yet again. You thought the worst of it happened yesterday while you were running away from your problems. Speaking of problems, the last thing you wanted was to go back home. Even though it wouldn’t be until later this evening, you felt that your apartment was forever tainted with the betrayal you witnessed. Going back in there would be like playing a broken record. Forever stuck in the limbo of what was.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you rolled over to feel for Loki, but instead, you were met with room temperature sheets, another body vacant from the bed. Your stomach sank. Had Loki lied? It wouldn’t be beside him but with you, he was so transparent. It felt like cigarettes were being put out all over your skin, your nerves were fired up in all the wrong ways. You sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets up to your chest along with your knees. You felt your body become lethargic.

Am I worth anything to anybody? Am I really that disposable?

Hot, stinging tears began to fall from your eyes. Self-doubt and deprecating thoughts filling your brain. Perpetual questions of wondering your worth not only in romantic fashion but just in life came to be the spearhead of your worries. Everything felt intrusive and counterfeit. Maybe he saw you as easy and knew you would give up easily to him in your state of vulnerability. You just wanted somebody to be appreciative of you.

Maybe he and his brother weren’t cut from that different of a cloth. Sliding out of the bed you went to put on your clothes from the night before in hopes of getting out of the hotel without too much trouble. But when you bent over to pick your jeans up from the floor they were damp and cold and it made you feel even worse. Your hoodie was in a similar condition and to top it off, you couldn’t find your underwear to save your life. You groaned out loud and felt trapped in this opulent room and everywhere you looked was a painful reminder of everything bitter and vile.

You climbed back in bed and decided to just wait for your clothes to finish drying up. Unsure of when that would be because the rain outside was creating a thin layer of humidity in the room. Sighing you curled into the fetal position and held onto an extra pillow hoping that it would provide you with some semblance of comfort. Your tears started up again and there was a pain beginning to build in your stomach. You wanted to scream. You wanted to release yourself of all the negative energy that was boiling within you. Clutching the extra pillow to your face you let out a wail that you had been holding in for far too long. All the pent-up energy from yesterday of trying to hold your own against the perfidy Thor presented you with and now you were struggling with the concept of Loki using you and your vulnerability for a cheap fuck. You were curled up in a hotel room, naked and crying about everything. You felt pathetic. You just wanted to sleep forever.

With the last sniffle leaving your body you took a deep breath and shuddered into your body. Your breathing labored and shallow, you tried to calm yourself down in hopes of falling back asleep. But those hopes were dilapidated when you heard the hotel room door click open. You thought about faking sleep but the idea of faking anything took up too much space to even think about carrying out. So you opted to just lie still and wait for anything to be said to you. Maybe it was just one of the housekeeping people and they would leave upon seeing someone still in the room.

“Y/N, you up yet?”

Housekeeping would’ve been too easy wouldn’t it?

Sighing you meekly responded to Loki, tears and sorrow welling up in your eyes and throat once more.

“Yeah, been up for a little while.”

He caught on to it immediately. Your position in the bed, the lack of tone in your voice. He knew he should’ve waited but he thought a surprise of something would lift your spirits even more. Time was simply not on his side and you arose long before he anticipated. Making his best judgment at the situation he was debating which road of sentiment he should walk down. He didn’t want to make things worse for you.

Loki set down a bag, the crinkling catching your attention and you looked over your shoulder to see where he was.

He went to get food? He hadn’t skipped at all?

“Surprise.”

Instantly you were filled with regret, upset with yourself for jumping to conclusions about the situation at hand. You couldn’t help it though, your ability to have trust within someone else was smeared, and regardless of Loki’s reassuring words the night prior, the pain had yet to subside. Upon seeing your face, Loki saw the residual puffiness in your face and how the tip of your nose was heated and slightly swollen from your crying before he walked in.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

Was all you could muster, wordwise. You sat yourself up in the bed and wiped the residue of tears from your face trying to make yourself appear as normal as possible. Wrapping the sheet tightly around you, you finally faced him. Loki stepping lightly to the edge of the bed.

“Did you think I left...for good?”

You rolled your heads towards him, cynicism clear on your face. A bit of sarcasm was thrown into the mix but it was all a guise to somewhat shield him from the pain and embarrassment you were feeling. Looking at the wall in front of you, a dry response left your lips.

“Yes. What else was I supposed to think? My mind was running through all the possible reasons as to why you left. And the one that kept nagging was the idea that my vulnerability yesterday was used to an advantage other than my own.”

Sadness no longer colored your emotions but rather numbness. You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted to trust Loki and you believed that you could but time was definitely needed. With another sigh, you continued.

“And then you walk in here with bags of stuff and I look like a fool for being so dramatic in nature.”

“Well that’s nothing new for us now is it?”

Loki’s quip back at you had your eyes narrowing into thin slits but again was quickly washed away because something about him made the circumstances seem not so perilous. You bowed your head, feeling that you had said enough. In place, Loki’s voice filled the silence.

“My intention was for you to still be asleep by the time I returned. You seemed so peaceful. The last thing I wanted was to wake you from that state of rest. I figured I’d be back in time to properly surprise you with some gifts.”

You smiled a bit, feeling the angst start to fade away, but quickly to feel it fade into guilt. But you weren’t allowed to stew in it for too long, for Loki standing up from the bed caught your attention distracting you from your thoughts.

“Before it gets cold, I got us some breakfast. And..”

His sentence trailing off into a strain as he bent over to the side of the desk in the front of a room to pull out yet another bag.

“I picked you up some clothes to wear for today. Figured wearing the ones from this past evening was morally and aesthetically dull and trudging back to your apartment would be in poor judgment. It’s not much but enough for the day and for our date this evening.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline completely forgetting about what you agreed to with Loki during your session of pillow talk while you were drifting in and out of sleep.

He really meant that? Wow, okay.”

“Oh come now, you hadn’t forgotten already had you?”

Loki was mocking you now. Fully aware that by your initial reaction you had forgotten.

“Look, in my defense, I was drifting off to sleep.”

“Mhmm, sure Y/N.”

Setting the bag in between the two of you on the bed, Loki looked at you, eyes urging you to dig in the bag.

“You happen to have another shirt I can throw on before I start eating? My hoodie is still damp and-”

Loki reached into the bag full of clothes and pulled out an oversized graphic tee cutting your sentence off and holding it out in front of your face.

“Thank you.”

You were genuinely surprised and grateful. It was such a simple act but the fact that Loki went out of his way to get you clothes and food following a night of such intensity made you feel warm and finally appreciated. Something you hadn’t felt with previous relationships, especially with your last. Taking the shirt from him, you looked for the tag and pulled it out with your teeth.

“Animal.”

Loki side-eyed you, his comment made obviously in somewhat of jest. You chuckled and wormed your way into the shirt. Once pulling it over your head you finally dug into the paper bag that was still surprisingly warm despite the time that had gone by. The smell of a breakfast sandwich filling your nose and your stomach growled in response, eager to be fed. Loki made a sarcastic remark but you couldn’t be bothered with responding the second you placed the sandwich to your lips.

The satisfaction of the food also gnawing away the ritual morning agitation you were always burdened with. Nothing but soft smacks and soft moans of enjoying your food filled the space. A sign that obviously, the food was worthwhile. Loki had looked at you eyebrow raised and chuckled to himself watching you be completely lost in the sandwich.

“If I would’ve known you’d be tearing the sandwich up like that I would’ve purchased three.”

Your eyes rolled and simultaneously you were thinking about how he got all this stuff in the first place. Mouth still full with food, your speech a little muffled.

“Speaking of purchase, how’d you buy all this anyway.”

“Mischief always finds its way, darling.”

“I think the word is pronounced thievery, Loki.”

“Same difference.”

It’s almost as if all the trauma that you suffered through yesterday had never happened. Being with Loki and the playful banter that was his character made everything feel at ease. You felt happy, actually and most importantly you didn’t feel guilty for it. Was the timing a little brisk? Perhaps, but in the end, what really mattered was your happiness and right now it felt that you had found it.

Finishing up with your sandwich you balled up the wrapping and threw it back into the bag. Standing up from the bed you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Turning on the light you saw a plethora of toiletry products that you hadn’t brought. A toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash, lotion, a few makeup products that you knew were picked up in pure confusion, and some leave in for your hair. Your eyes widened and you let out a belly laugh.

“Jesus Loki, did you raid the fuckin Walgreens on the corner.”

“Hey if you don’t want it, with the flick of my wrist it will vanish. Choose your next words wisely.”

You knew he was playing and you decided one last epigram would satisfy your bratty nature. Peeking your head out from the bathroom, you bowed in a dramatic courtesy.

“Thank you my king for so valiantly stealing all the toiletries from our nearest corner store. My gratitude is eternal. Like that?”

“You’re impossible.”

Walking back to Loki, you stood between his legs and raked your fingers through his slicked-back hair. A softness took over your features, appearing small and doe-like to Loki as he looked up at you.

“Thank you, Loki, really. I know we bust each other’s balls but I really appreciate you. I can already foresee how tightly I’m going to be wrapped around your finger. You already have me falling for you at a speed that is impractical to calculate.”

“My Y/N.”

Hearing the adoration layered in his tone made your heart warm and the possession of your name falling from his mouth made your body shiver. Realizing how quickly you could get used to this.

“Now you’ll finally see what it’s like to be on the receiving end. Ever since we stumbled upon each other I was enamored with you. I couldn’t bear to see you with another and that another being none other than my brother was like a fiery blade that I had no power of removing. When I fell for you I knew I was irrevocably destined to be yours. Regardless of the circumstance. And now, if you are willing to take my hand in this journey I would like to make you mine.”

You pressed your lips together in a firm smile before showing your teeth, feeling overwhelmed with reverence for the man in front of you.

“I’d be more than happy to accompany you. Even more so for this evening.”

Loki lightly smiled and then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. The air light and emanating the tender yet sardonic romance that was beginning to brew between your long-lost lover.

#loki #loki imagine #loki fluff #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #loki fanfic #marvel fanfic

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lookalivefrosty · 4 years

Text

Summertime

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (but, really, Winter Soldier Bucky x Female Reader)

Summary: Three days ago, the Winter Soldier walked away from Hydra. They’ve just sent you to bring him back.

Word Count: 7,656 words (!!!)

Warnings: a heavy helping of angst, descriptions of injuries and pain, canon typical violence. The reader is an enhanced human with the ability to manipulate pain. (Let me know if you come across any others I’ve missed, I’ll gladly add them!)

*Reblogs of course are welcome, but please do not repost this story to any other websites without my permission!!*

A/N: This was written for @jbbuckybarnes‘s birthday writing challenge. Happy belated birthday, and thank you so much for reassuring me that it was okay to post this past the deadline! I didn’t mean for it to take this long, but the good news is, this is the first thing I’ve written and actually liked in about five or six years. So, yay? I really hope you and everyone else who reads it enjoys it!

P.S: my prompts are bolded, the not too shabby moodboard was made by me, and the title of the fic and lyrics within said moodboard are courtesy of My Chemical Romance’s ‘Summertime.’ Oh, and, the totally awesome text divider seen just below (and several times throughout the fic) was created by @writeyourmindaway (thank you)!

EDITED ON 5/24/2021 - no major changes, only a change in spelling for two of the characters' names.

“You ever think of where you’d go if you got out of here?” you’d asked the Soldier once, the two of you hunkered down in a safe house somewhere in Alaska. It’s been so long since then that you can’t even remember what mission had brought you there - or maybe you should say, so much has happened since then that you can’t remember.

He didn’t answer your question. He couldn’t. His programming limited his dialogue to giving orders to those ranked below him and answering the questions of those ranked higher. You’d been able to see his answer in his eyes, though, sitting there on the opposite side of the hallway from him, your faces illuminated by an oil lamp he’d found while sweeping the basement for any threats.

They had narrowed slightly, his way of wordlessly saying, ‘No.’

No, because he never thought he would ever escape from Hydra; and neither did you, for that matter. But it was nice to think about, especially back then. Freedom.

“I can remember,” you’d said slowly, not missing the faint look of surprise that crossed his usually stoic face at the words. You shouldn’t be able to remember anything that occurred before they wiped you the first time. But you remember this vividly, too vividly for it to be a mere fragment of your imagination.

“I can remember,” you’d started again, “this place my parents and I used to go to along the Blue Ridge Parkway.”

And then you’d told him about it. How after visiting a few tourist attractions you’d park the car at a lookout spot and stare out over the miles and miles of autumn colored trees in the valleys below, untouched by man aside from the randomly placed house. Far away from where you stood, blue tinted mountains pierced the overcast sky - and it was beautiful.

He’d listened to every word you’d spoken intently, his gaze never straying from your face as you reminisced on happier times. And when you’d finished, he’d looked sad. You could feel the longing in his chest within your own, and see a sparkle in his stormy blue eyes that seemed to say, ‘I would take you there, if I could.’

And he has, hasn’t he?

Here you are, standing at the very same lookout you’d told him about that night. It’s warmer than you remember, greener, seeing as it’s summertime - but it’s no less beautiful. If you squint you can see ghosts of the past; two figures standing against the most breathtaking of backdrops, smiling with their arms around one another as you took their picture.

You miss them.

Your parents.

You wish you could remember more about them.

About yourself.

Your old life.

“Empat.”

His voice startles you, but not because you didn’t know he was there. You’d felt his presence step within the reach of your powers almost twenty minutes ago; had known it was him because you know his aches and pains as well as you know your own. The phantom pain where his left arm used to be, the carpal tunnel syndrome in his right wrist and hand from years of holding a gun, and all the other wear and tear seventy years of assassination work has put on his still visibly young body. New to the roster, though, is the break in his right forearm - no doubt an injury gained during his fight in D.C. three days ago. A fight you’d been sidelined for, but should have been battling alongside him.

If you had been, that break wouldn’t be there. You’re certain of that.

You could only do so much with the amount of distance between you, but because you care, because you wanted him to know that you knew he was there, you’d cast your healing warmth over the fracture, numbing it until you could touch him and heal it completely. As thanks, he’d given you this time with your memories. Time before the inevitable had to happen.

But time is up now, and he’s standing right behind you, his voice startling you not because it’s unexpected but because he’s never been able to call you anything, let alone the name Hydra had given you. Empat, meaning Empath. His programming simply didn’t allow for it. To hear his voice say it now - after months and years of knowing each other, fighting alongside each other, nearly dying for each other - well, it’s quite a shock to the system.

Three days, you think. It’s only been three days since he walked away from the Triskelion wreckage, walked away from Hydra, and already he’s regained the ability to speak autonomously. And here you are, sent here to drag him back to the very same people who stripped him of his ability to do so in the first place.

You, because they know that in spite of their best efforts to keep him as emotionless and empty as possible, he feels something for you. Because if it’s you asking him to, he might come back willingly, without a fight. Because if it comes to a fight he’ll hesitate before killing you, and give you the opening you need to-

“Empat,” he says again, interrupting your internal ramblings. The sound of it threatens to bring tears to your eyes.

You don’t want to do this.

But you have no other choice.

“Hi, Soldier,” you greet him gently, and he takes that as his cue to move to stand at your side. He places himself on your left and it’s such a familiar position: you and the Soldier shoulder to shoulder, against the world. Normally it would bring you comfort; but today, it just makes you sad.

As if he can sense it - which he probably can; he has a knack for reading people - the Soldier brushes the back of his hand against the back of yours in a silent offer of comfort. You turn your wrist and intertwine your fingers with his without a second thought, and together you gaze out over the mountain range, silence hanging thick in the air between you for what feels like a lifetime.

And then, “Is it what you remember?”

So you were right. The red star on the tracking device had stopped in this town with a familiar name yesterday not by coincidence, but on purpose. He’d traveled west, deep into the peaks and valleys of the Blue Ridge Mountain range just so he could bring you here, to the location of your only remaining memory.

It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you - that you can remember, at least - and, God, do you want to cry.

“Yes,” your voice and your smile is strained, “Thank you.”

He squeezes your hand tighter in response, causing a bolt of pain to shoot up towards his shoulder and down to the tips of his fingers - but he shows no signs of feeling it when you glance in his direction. He was trained to suffer in silence; if you weren’t, well, you, you wouldn’t have the slightest clue that he was in any pain at all.

“Your arm?” you inquire, turning your head to face him at the same moment he turns to face you. It’s only then that you realize what he’s wearing: a black baseball cap pulled down over his brunette tresses, a dark denim jacket over a black t-shirt, blue jeans and his usual pair of boots. The shoes are the only part of his attire that you recognize, but you have to admit, this casual look he’s got going on…

You like it.

“Steve,” he tells you, as if you know who Steve is. You raise your brows. “The guy on the bridge,” he amends. “Captain...Captain America.”

Right. The target Hydra had sent the Soldier to kill not once, but twice - an anomaly, as he usually gets the job done on the first try. You’d been as shocked as your superiors when he came back from the fight on the bridge to report the mission as failed - but more so due to the foul mix of emotions churning within him than the failed mission itself.

It was astonishing to see him in such anguish so openly; to feel the full force of his normally repressed guilt, anger and sadness. You’ve gotten glimpses of it in the past, during those precious few minutes between him being awoken and being wiped. But only one other time had you seen him so distraught, which could only mean one thing.

The target - this Steve, whoever he is - had somehow broken through decades of wipings and programming to free the man Hydra had tried so hard to keep contained, and every sour emotion he’s felt while locked in his cage - though only for a moment before Alexander Pierce ordered him to be shoved behind the bars again.

It’s not easily done; liberating the man that lingers beneath the surface of the Soldier.

You would know.

You’ve done it before.

“You knew him,” you say simply, recalling the trembling words he’d spoken that day. Words that, when combined with the look on his face and what had happened after he’d uttered them, had shattered your already broken heart into even smaller shards.

“But I knew him.”

“I don’t know,” the Soldier replies eventually, and he’s lying - to you and himself.

But that’s okay.

You assure him as much with a small smile.

“Here,” you change the subject, “let me…” you turn your body towards him and bring your right hand up to cup the back of his, which still clings to your left one, as he turns to face you as well. You close your eyes and focus on the break, casting your warmth over it and holding it steady as it guides his bones back into place. As it does, your body takes his pain and converts it into ammunition, adding it to what’s already been piled high within you thanks to the metal choker around your neck.

Hydra’s scientists had designed it especially for you; a necklace that would, whenever your handlers deemed it necessary, electrically shock you continuously so you would have to be constantly taking your own pain away. Whenever you use your healing abilities - regardless of whether you’re using them on yourself or someone else - your body absorbs the pain and stores it within until you either unleash it on someone or your handlers shut the necklace off and the power coursing through your veins is allowed to dwindle away on its own.

It flows through you now, but you’re so used to the uncomfortable prickling feeling that accompanies it at this point that you hardly even notice it’s there anymore.

How sad that is.

“Thank you,” the Soldier says after you’ve finished healing him and open your eyes again. That’s another first: the Soldier thanking you aloud instead of with his eyes and soft, secret touches. If it weren’t for the current circumstances, it would have brought you joy.

“Don’t thank me,” you beg with a rapid shake of your head. “Not when you know what I’ve been sent here to do.”

“Empat, it’s okay-”

“No,” you interject harshly, dropping his hand and retreating a few steps backwards. “It’s not okay, Soldier. It’s not. Because you knew,” your smile is sardonic as you point a finger in his direction. “You knew they’d send someone - that they’d send me - after you. You knew what they’d make me do to bring you back. So why, Soldier? Why didn’t you cut the tracker out? You could have been free,” your voice cracks on the last word, and you feel his chest ache in response.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before dropping his focus to the grass between his boots. You stand there, blinking tears from your eyes and waiting for him to say something - anything - in defense of himself, but he doesn’t say a word.

He’s maddeningly silent.

“Why would you do this?” you demand again, your voice frail in spite of the anger rising inside of you. The Soldier is slow to raise his gaze back to yours, and even slower to give you an answer.

“‘Cause I wanted to.”

It hits you like a punch from his left fist, and you find yourself unable to speak.

He... He wanted this? He wanted you to be sent after him? To potentially have to fight him, to have to drag him back to the people you’ve always told him you wished you could help him escape from?

“Listen,” he urges, seeing the look of hurt and betrayal that’s overtaken your features. He’s lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture, and his left one catches your attention, as it’s donning a black winter glove. Where did he even find one of those this time of year? “I did it because I didn’t know how else to find you. I went back to the bank after...after the fight, and everyone was already gone. You were gone, and I had no way of knowing where you were but I knew that if I left the tracker in, it wouldn’t be long before they sent you after me. It...It was the only way I had to be able to see you again,” he finishes with a sad, tearful smile, the same one he’d given Alexander Pierce that night after his first encounter with Steve.

It pulls at your heart now just as it did then, but at the same time -

“You could have been free,” you echo your earlier words, sounding every bit as devastated as you feel. Your tears make the Soldier a blur as he steps closer to you, raising his hands to tentatively cup the sides of your face. You blink and a pair of them slip down your cheeks only to be quickly smeared away by his thumbs, gloved metal and bare flesh alike.

“I don’t want to be free if you’re not free with me,” he tells you softly, and you see those words for what they are: a testament of his love for you. It’s the first time he’s been able to voice such a thing, and you want to find joy or at the very least solace in it. Truly, you do. But right now, with the situation at hand, knowing he’s tossed away the only chance at liberation he’s had in seven decades all because he didn’t want to leave you behind, you can’t.

You just feel guilty. So incredibly, debilitatingly guilty.

“I’ll never be free of them,” you state grimly, pulling out of his hold and putting some distance between you. “As long as this necklace is around my neck, I’m stuck. They’ll ramp it up as soon as I get too far for their likings and kill me. But you - you had a chance. And you threw it away because of me,” you practically choke out the last word. You pause for a few moments to collect yourself before continuing to speak, your eyes fluttering shut to send another pair of tears down your cheeks.

“I’m begging you, Soldier. If you love me, cut the tracker out and leave. I’ll tell them you beat me unconscious before I could move to apprehend you, or… I don’t know. Something. Just please don’t make me take you back there. Don’t make me the reason you go back there, I…” your throat gets too tight for you to speak any further, so you open your eyes and try to communicate with him through them, as he used to you.

I won’t be able to live with myself if you do.

He lets your unspoken words hang between you for exactly seventeen shaking breaths, and when he goes to speak, he looks apologetic, telling you he’s not going to change his mind even before he confirms it aloud.

“You know I never get to choose what I want for myself,” he says, a pleading tone to his voice. His eyes are equally as imploring as they stare into yours, trying to get you to see just how much he needs you to do this for him. “I want this, Empat. I do. So, please, for once in my life - let me have what I want.”

…How are you supposed to say no to that?

The answer is simple:

You don’t.

“Alright,” you sound as defeated as you feel. “Alright.”

The corners of his lips twitch upwards, but the glossiness of his eyes conveys what you feel twisting inside of him. The fear. The sadness. The anger.

He reaches out, asking for your hands, and you unfold your arms to give them to him, biting back a sob as he intertwines his fingers through yours.

“Whatever you have to do,” he says slowly, “Do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply to gather what little strength and courage you have left in you; then, you breath out a single word:

“Sputnik.”

A moment later, the Soldier collapses at your feet.

…

...

You couldn’t do it.

You’d told him you would, and had fully intended on honoring his wishes - but it was one hour into the three hour drive back to the safe house your handlers were waiting for you within that you realized you just couldn’t. You couldn’t take him back to the people who have been holding him hostage for over seventy years, doom him to another who knows how many more years of brainwashing and torture. You couldn’t, and you wouldn’t.

So you turned the car around, much to the displeasure of your handlers. The wattage of your necklace shot up almost immediately after you’d made the u-turn, and you’d almost driven into the guard rails due to the sudden onslaught of pain. You’d quickly smothered it, though, and righted the vehicle on the road, backtracking until you reached the abandoned house you’d spotted only a few minutes prior in the drive.

It had caught your eye because of its reminiscence of that safe house back in Alaska. It’s a small and barely standing home made of deteriorating wood, its front door hanging by a single hinge. Upon entering it you’d found it had the same damp, moldy atmosphere, and a similar, familiar layout - a ground level with two bedrooms and a bathroom, a living room and kitchen area, and a basement. Its windows were shattered, parts of the wood flooring were either caved in or missing altogether, and you’d even found an oil lamp while you were scoping out the basement.

Talk about déjà vu.

As for getting the Soldier into the house, it was as much of a struggle as it’d been to get him into the car your handlers had sent you out in. Somehow, though, you’d managed, and had tied him to a weathered dining chair that had squeakily threatened to collapse under his weight when you’d dropped him into it.

What had happened after that is nothing more than a blur of blood and tears, right up until you’d collapsed into an identical chair in front of a boarded up window, staring as if you could see right through the planks to whatever lies beyond.

You don’t know how much time has passed since then, but you haven’t moved since you’d sat down. You’ve barely even breathed.

There’s a pounding in your head from previously shed tears and there’s dried blood on your hands, your clothes. You’re shaking so badly you don’t know how you haven’t vibrated right off of the chair and into a clump on the floor.

He hasn’t woken up yet. You’re starting to worry he may never - that there’s another code word that has to be used to wake the Soldier after he’s been shut down by ‘sputnik.’

Wouldn’t that be just your luck? To do everything that you’ve done in the time since he’s been unconscious just for it all to be futile because-

A soft groan sounds from behind you, and you hold your breath.

Did you actually hear that? Or did you-

“Empat?” he rasps, a confused lilt to his voice. You almost start crying again at the sound of it.

He’s awake.

Everything you’ve done isn’t for nothing, after all.

“I’m here,” you get to your feet and move towards him slowly. Taking in his disoriented expression, you ask, “How do you feel?”

You being you, of course, you already know how he’s feeling; he’s got a headache similar to your own and he’s discombobulated, stiff and sore. Still, you ask him - not only because it’s nice to do so but because you want to hear it out of his own mouth.

However, instead of answering your question, he raises one of his own. “Why are you covered in blood?”

You stop right in front of him, shaking your head.

“It’s not mine,” is all you offer, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face since he can’t do it for himself. You then trail your fingers down the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut briefly in response to the gentle touch before he seemingly forces them open again, assessing you with his stormy blues.

“Where are we?” he asks. You freeze in your movement.

“Hour away from where we were,” you supply. He ponders that for a few moments, tearing his eyes from you to take in what he can of the room before meeting your gaze again.

“Are they coming to extract us?”

You drop your gaze.

“Empat,” his tone is low; dangerous - the closest it’s been to the one he uses while giving orders on missions this entire time. You turn away from him and clasp your trembling hands together.

Every so often your handlers have been knocking up the voltage of your necklace to tell you to hurry up and get you and the Soldier back to the safe house. You’ve been having to use more and more of your powers to keep yourself from feeling it, from being harmed by it, and it’s drained you more than you’re willing to admit.

You don’t know how much longer you can fight against it. You need to get moving before they ramp it up beyond the reach of your powers and kill you, which they’d very clearly told you they would if you failed them.

You’ve only hung around this long waiting for the Soldier to wake up to make sure that he would wake up; you didn’t want to leave him behind without knowing for a fact that he was going to be okay.

But he’s awake now, and really there’s no reason for you to be here anymore... Yet, you can’t bring yourself to move any further away.

“Empat,” the Soldier calls for you again, this time more desperate. “What did you do?”

You close your eyes.

He’s going to be so upset with you over this.

But perhaps that will make it easier for him to move on.

“I cut the tracker out,” you inform him, hearing him inhale sharply in response. “I…Understand why you didn’t do it yourself. I’d do the same thing, to see you one last time - but you know that if our roles were reversed you would refuse to take me back to them. So you shouldn’t expect me to,” you face him again, letting him see the tears that started running down your cheeks as you were speaking.

He looks as devastated as you feel.

Biting back a sob, you walk back up to him and cup the sides of his face, as he had yours earlier, and lean down to rest your forehead against his. You remain in that position for only a moment before pulling away enough to peer into his tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry I have to be another person keeping you from what you want,” you brush your thumbs over his cheekbones, “but I can’t do this to you. You’ve been with them so much longer than I have, Soldier; you’ve been through so much - too much. You deserve to be free, to live. And you’ve got a chance,” you smile at him sadly. “I can’t take that from you.”

Those words appear to be what takes him over the edge, as with his next blink, the Soldier’s tears spill over. They run down his stubble covered cheeks and quickly find themselves wiped away by your waiting thumbs.

“They’ll kill you if you show up without me,” he chokes out. And he’s right. You know he is. But,

“You would do it for me.”

You have him there, it seems - because he has nothing to say to contradict your statement. You nod, for no particular reason, and press your lips to his forehead; your silent I love you, your wordless goodbye.

You pull away from him with the intentions of leaving, but before you can even straighten your spine he says, “Y/N.”

You freeze.

That name…

You pull further back and meet his gaze.

“What?”

“Y/N,” he says again. “That’s your name. Your real name.”

Your breathing hitches.

You don’t know how, but you know he’s right. You can feel it.

“How-”

“You told me,” he answers your unfinished question. “When we first met, before they wiped you that first time - no one told you I couldn’t talk and you - you introduced yourself to me. You were terrified of me, I could tell - but you still stuck your hand out and told me your name. I couldn’t,” he pauses to gather himself, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I couldn’t have told you my name even if I could have remembered it, but I put my hand in yours, and you smiled at me. Do you know how long it’d been since someone had smiled at me? Without any malice behind it?” he leans forward against his binds, baring his wet eyes into yours.

You don’t say anything. You’re completely and utterly speechless, staring at him with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip. You drop your hands from his face and take a step back, absorbing every single word he has to to tell you.

“They wipe me to make me forget, but I never forgot that moment, Y/N, no matter how many times they did it. I never forgot your name even though my own was long gone.” The Soldier presses on, “I don’t know why, but I feel like it was for a reason. Like I was supposed to be the one to remind you what it was - to help you remember who you were. But I can’t do that if you’re...If you…”

He doesn’t finish, but it’s not hard for you to figure out what he was going to say.

I can’t do that if you’re dead.

“I don’t know what you think I can do,” you force the words out around the lump in your throat, “I die if I go back without you. They’ll kill me if I stay with you - either way, I’m dead. There’s nothing we can do-”

“Yes there is,” he insists, desperate. “We can go there - we can fight them-”

“And they’ll kill me as soon as they realize what’s happening,” you dismiss the suggestion, “right in front of you. I don’t… Want you to have to watch me die, Soldier. I don’t want you to have to carry that around with you for the rest of your life - can’t you understand that?”

“Untie me then. Let me try and get that thing off of you-”

“What?!” you take a step back as if he’s struck you. “Are you insane?! You’ll get electrocuted if you touch it!”

“Not if you protect me from it,” he counteracts. You shake your head and go to protest against the idea, but he starts talking again before you can. “Don’t you remember the day you realized what you could do? What you could really do?”

Of course you do. That’s another memory Hydra couldn’t rip away from you no matter how hard they tried: the day you found out the true extent of what powers Loki’s scepter had bestowed upon you. The day that you were promoted from the Winter Soldier’s nurse to his partner in crime - literally.

Seeing the look of recognition in your eyes, the Soldier latches onto it. “You can do it again. I know you can.”

“Your arm,” you point out. “It’ll conduct the electricity - send it straight towards your heart. And I don’t know if what I can do is enough to protect you from the damage that would cause.”

His face falls.

Clearly, he hadn’t thought of that.

He parts his lips to make another argument but before he can get a single word out the wattage of your necklace suddenly increases again, making you cry out and fall to your knees. You just barely manage to smother the pain this time; if they turn it up any higher, you’re not sure you’ll be able to.

“I knew you couldn’t do it,” a voice taunts in Russian from somewhere behind you. Recognizing it, you lift a hand in the general direction it came from and feel the power coursing through your veins gather in the palm of your hand before a cloud of black smoke erupts from it. The man lets out a scream of pure agony a moment later before hitting the weathered floorboards, dead. You look over your shoulder and take in the lifeless form of the handler before turning back to the Soldier, wide eyed.

“Untie me now,” he orders, and you know better than to argue with him.

As Hydra’s motto claims, ‘Cut off one head, two more will take its place.’

You’re gonna need his help.

So you scramble to your feet and round the chair he’s tied to, unsheathing the knife strapped to your thigh. It’s not easy to cut through the rope, which had been specially designed to restrain the Soldier, but it’s not impossible, either. You have him free before long and he puts his hand out for the blade, which you hand over without even thinking just in time for two more figures to step through the doorway.

“Sput-” the handler who had been just a syllable away from shutting down the Soldier again gets cut off by the knife you’d given him embedding itself in his chest. A cloud of black smoke engulfs him a moment later and he chokes on it for a moment before collapsing just as the first had.

Next, gun shots ring out. If any bullets hit you, you don’t feel them - all you can feel is the power in your shaking hands, the slight ease of its pressure as more of it is released onto the third Hydra agent. She does little more than gasp before her eyes roll back in her head and she lands on top of her comrade.

The Soldier surges forward, scavenging the closest body for any weapons. He finds a gun just in time to get a head shot on a fourth agent.

“We need to get out of here,” he states the obvious, taking a shot at a fifth one.

He doesn’t miss.

You clench and unclench your hands, the power surging within them making it impossible for you not to fidget. “My tracker’s still in, they’ll just follow us,” you remind him, “and the necklace-”

“Search them for the remote,” he meets your eyes briefly over his shoulder. “Someone here has to have it.”

You nod and kneel beside the body he’d taken the gun from. You rummage through the handler’s pockets, coming up short on finding the device that would free you from the necklace. From Hydra.

It’s unreal to you that this is even happening right now; you never thought you would ever have even a chance at freedom, but now -

As if it’s punishing you for even thinking about escaping, the wattage of your necklace suddenly spikes. And as you’d predicted, this time you can’t completely cover the pain it’s inflicting on you - it’s too strong, hurts too much.

You scream and fall sideways, clawing futilely at the electrified metal around your neck. For several long, agonizing moments, all there is is pain, pain, pain - and then, suddenly, it’s gone.

You think at first you’re dead; in fact, you’re certain of it. But then a hand taps on your cheek and you open your eyes - when had you even closed them? - and see the Soldier’s face hovering over your own. It melts with relief and he says something to you, but you can’t hear whatever it is over the ringing in your ears.

You’d tell him that, if you weren’t so dazed.

After some time the Soldier gives up on getting a response out of you and helps you to sit up, watching you closely afterwards, presumably looking for any signs that you’re going to pass out. You don’t, though your head does swim, and find yourself blinking rapidly trying to get your eyes to focus. They land on the doorway when they do, where a familiar man stands holding a familiar object, the sight enough to make your blood run cold.

Having noticed the shift in your demeanor, the Soldier follows your line of sight, tensing just as you had when he realizes what you’re looking at.

The ringing in your ears fades away just in time for Talon, the highest ranking of the handlers, to speak.

“Drop the gun, Soldat,” he commands, shaking the hand holding the remote to your necklace pointedly. “Or watch your precious little empath die.”

The Soldier swallows thickly. Then, he obeys, the gun clattering onto the wood floor just beyond your reach.

“As I thought,” Talon muses, his smile anything but friendly as he approaches you and the Soldier at a slow pace. His eyes are fixated on the latter, but his thumb hovering over the red button on the remote is enough of a deterrent to keep you from trying anything.

You don’t refrain from openly glaring at him, though.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe, hm?” Talon inquires coolly, his lips falling into their natural frown. “First chance at freedom in almost seventy years... And you toss it away for a girl you’ve known for two,” he holds up two fingers on his free hand for emphasis, and you flinch. Even though they’re the same words you've been telling yourself this entire time, they somehow sound even worse coming from someone else’s mouth.

The handler doesn't show it outwardly, but he notices how his statement hits a nerve. You know this because, for a moment, his irritation gives way to amusement; he can tell you're feeling guilty, and he's enjoying it.

Bastard.

Talon comes to a stop a few feet away from where you and the Soldier are sat. His eyes, their irises the color of green peridot, flicker back and forth between the two of you a few times before he seethes, “She makes you weak.”

The Soldier tightens his arm around you, and you can feel the anxiety rising within him; the anger. You want to spare a glance in his direction but opt to keep your gaze fixated on Talon, afraid of what he might do if you were to be momentarily distracted.

“It’s pathetic,” the handler goes on, “and if we didn’t need her help to sort out the mess your failure-” he jabs an accusing finger at the Soldier “-created, I would have you kill her. Slowly and painfully, to punish you both.

"I should regardless, considering what she was about to do,” he moves his focus onto you, now. “You should count yourself very lucky, Empat, and pray that I still find you useful when all this is said and done.”

Your glare turns deadly at the threat. In response, Talon hits a button - not the red one - to make your necklace come to life, albeit on a much lower setting than it’d been on before.

It’s a warning more than anything, but it still hurts.

“Yes, you will both be punished harshly for your recent acts of disobedience - eventually,” Talon states, tossing the remote into the air and catching it, quite literally playing with your life. “There’s simply no time for it now, as we leave for Sokovia tonight, per von Strucker’s request. He’s made a call for all of his creations to return and help defend their birthplace,” he stuffs the hand holding the device into his pocket and seems to consider you before adding, “He’s very interested in seeing how your powers have developed since he’s last seen you, Empat.”

Unease claws its way down your spine at the words, and though you’re not sure why - you trust it. You may not consciously remember von Strucker, but there’s a girl locked away in your mind who does; who’s warning you that he’s no one you’ll want to see ever again.

You trust her.

Talon sighs exaggeratedly, having seemingly grown bored of this one-sided conversation he’s been having with the two of you.

“Get her up, Soldat; we must get going,” he commands. You feel your heart lurch, and finally tear your gaze from the handler to look at the man who’s yet to let you go.

There’s a look of calculation on his face; the one he bears whenever a mission goes wrong and he has to come up with a new plan on the spot. What could he possibly-

“My name,” the Soldier snarls through gritted teeth, glaring up at the other man with pure hatred swirling in his chest. “Is James, Buchanan, Barnes. Not Soldat, not Asset - James. Bucky.”

You gasp silently in response to what he’s just revealed, and place your hand over that of his that rests on your waist, squeezing it tightly. Right now is the most inappropriate of times to feel happy, but you are, because the Soldier, your Soldier, he has a name. Well, he’s always had one - but now he remembers it; now you know it. You know his name and you know your own - your first one, at least - and, wow. You have names. Real, genuine names and it feels so surreal, so right, even if you are currently standing on the verge of losing them again.

“I gave you an order, Soldat,” Talon emphasizes the title pointedly, and you whirl back onto him with a glare even more murderous than the first had been. “And I expect you to follow that order, or I’ll-”

In your peripheral vision, you see the Soldier - James, you remind yourself - pull out a gun and line up a shot with expert ease. You barely register the action before he’s pulling the trigger and an ear piercing bang echoes throughout the abandoned house.

The bullet hits its mark, of course - a fatal head shot.

Talon’s body falls towards the ground and when it makes impact, whether his hand was just carrying out his last request or your luck is just that bad and he happened to land on it, the red button on the remote gets pressed.

The wattage of your necklace spikes, and it’s the most excruciating and unbearable pain you’ve ever felt. Your lips part to scream but the cry doesn’t even get a chance to escape before you succumb to the pain being inflicted upon you, your world going dark.

And then…

And then there’s light.

Not a heavenly, bright light, but a dim, golden glow.

You blink against it a few times, trying to focus your vision, all the while casting your healing warmth over the pain in your head. The world around you finally aligns and you realize that you’re in a car, sprawled across the back seat with your head lying on top of a rolled up denim jacket.

Your last few moments of consciousness return to you as the headache is successfully smothered to nothing, and immediately your hand shoots up to grasp at your neck - the action sending a jolt of pain through your arm.

Brows furrowing, you withdraw the limb and bring it to eye level, finding a bandage wrapped tightly just below your elbow. You bring your other hand up and pull the bandage down carefully, revealing a stitched up wound right where Hydra’s scientists had implanted a small tracking device beneath your skin seemingly so long ago.

The implications the sight brings forth make your heart stutter.

Slowly, almost afraid of what you’ll find, you lower your hand back towards your neck -

Finding nothing there.

And the fact that your necklace is gone is your second indication that something huge happened while you were unconscious, as the only time your handlers ever take it off of you is when you’re off mission and locked away in a cell. Gingerly, you rub at the scarred skin where it usually rests, putting the few pieces you’ve gathered so far together.

Your tracker has presumably been cut out, your necklace is gone, and both of those things could only mean-

You stop yourself short, realizing you’re getting ahead of yourself.

You can’t let yourself think that until you know for sure it’s true.

So without moving - because if it isn’t him, you’re gonna want the advantage of the person in the driver’s seat not knowing you’re awake - you close your eyes and reach out with your powers, studying the only other soul in the car. You take into account every familiar ache and pain in their body, the fragile hope within their chest, and you smile.

“Soldier?” you call, ignoring the pain in your arm as you push yourself up into a seated position. Startled, his icy blues snap towards the rear view mirror.

And then they melt.

“No,” he responds, a smile tainting his tone. “I’m Bucky.”

Disbelieving and overjoyed, a laugh bubbles up in your throat. He maneuvers the car to park it on the side of the rural road and you slide off of the back seat, leaning over the center console to look at his face. He turns to look at you, too, grinning - something you’ve never seen him do before.

He’s offered you slight tugs at the corners of his lips in moments where he was more ‘James’ than ‘Soldier,’ yes, but not ever this - this flashing of his teeth and crinkling at the edges of his eyes. Bathed in the golden glow of the rising sun and freedom, he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Hi, Bucky,” you greet him breathlessly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Hi, Y/N,” he returns, and the next thing you know you’re being pulled - squealing - from the back seat towards the front, and his arms are around you, holding you tight against him. In the cramped space of the car, the embrace is awkward and even on the verge of painful - what with all the levers and the steering wheel digging into you; but you don’t care. You just wrap your arms around him, too, and pull him impossibly closer, a different kind of tears filling your eyes as you bury your nose into his dark hair.

“I thought I lost you,” he heaves out the shaking words against your chest, trembling in your hold. There’s so many emotions twisting within him that it’s hard for you to decipher them from one another, but most prominent of all is his guilt; his overbearing, gut-wrenching guilt. It makes you realize, with a sinking heart, that not only had he thought you dead, he’d thought he’d been the one to kill you - inadvertently - by shooting Talon.

“I’m right here,” you murmur into his hair, pressing a kiss to it after. “It’s alright - we’re alright, Bucky. We’re free.”

At your words, he pulls back enough to meet your gaze, an almost mystified look on his tear-stained face. It’s the smallness of his voice as he repeats your last two words back to you that causes your own tears to spill over.

“We’re free.”

He almost sounds like he doesn’t really believe it, and you can understand that, as you hardly do yourself - but still, you try and reassure him, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, Bucky, we’re fr-”

Bucky presses his lips against yours, cutting you off.

Taken aback, you stiffen at first - but then you melt into him, one of your hands moving to cup the side of his face and pull him closer, the other sliding down to rest over his heart. It beats strongly against your palm, setting the pace for the kiss, the first the two of you have ever shared. And, oh, what a first kiss it is: gentle yet passionate, grounding but freeing all the same.

It warms you from the inside out and tingles beneath the surface of your skin in the most exhilarating of ways, making you feel so alive - reassuring you that you are, as it would be so easy for you to convince yourself that you’re not, since this is the closest to Heaven you’ve ever been.

If you could have it your way, it would never end; you would stay in this moment for the rest of your life, reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s lips moving against yours and his arms encasing you, the mix of positive emotions swirling in your respective chests. Your lungs however eventually betray you, and you have to part from him to catch your breath - but you don’t go too far. You only move to rest your forehead against his, a happier rendition of a moment lived not too long ago.

You stay like that, just basking in one another, for an eternity. And then he asks you, in a tone that tells you he’s open to anything you might suggest, “Where do you want to go?”

You smile as you open your eyes, meeting his waiting gaze.

“Anywhere,” you tell him simply. “As long as I’m with you.”

A/N: first and foremost, if you’re reading this, bless you for making it this far, and I really hope you liked this one-shot! I’d love to hear any thoughts you may have on it :).

I’ve been planning the story of Bucky and this specific reader in my head for months now, so to see them finally “come to life” is a pretty great feeling. I hope you guys love them as much as I do, because I’ll hopefully be sharing the journey that led them to this ‘epilogue’ with you soon 💜.

One last thing, I want to give a shout out to every single person who has given me words of encouragement and advice over the past few months as I’ve talked about picking up writing again. Especially @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors, whose reaction to just a snippet of this one-shot and constant support throughout the writing process pushed me to keep going even when I felt like giving up and dropping out of the challenge. I’m so sorry I kept you waiting to see what happened for so long! I hope the wait was worth it!

( @buckyreaderrecs and @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors, I did it you guys!! 💜)

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pcprminibigbang · 3 years

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PCPR Mini Big Bang Fic Claiming Time!

Today’s the daaaaay!

Under the cut, you will find the summaries of the fanfics our Writers have been working on. They have been posted anonymously, labeled only by number.

Artists, go through the summaries carefully and figure out which ones you’d like to work on the most! Please pick three choices and then hop on over to your email to send your fic claiming email to [email protected]! If you are confused as to how this process goes, please check your email inbox for emails Mod has sent concerning the full details on how to claim a fic.

For those not participating in this event, please feel free to read through the summaries as well to get a sneak peek of what our Writers have been working on!

Okay, that’s enough talking from Mod. Here are this event’s fics!!!

FIC #1 : CLAIMED!!!

He shuffles to the door, reaching for his gun just in case before he pulls it open, startling the short man who was waiting on the other side.

"Goddammit, Burger!" Vang0 hisses, leaning a little closer, eyes darting to the sides. "Can I come in?" He asks bluntly, as if they had been talking just a couple minutes ago and this wasn't their first chat in about a week. We're not that codependent.

"Wh- why are you out this late? And with a bag?" He frowns when he sees the uncharacteristic plain green duffle bag hanging from Vang0's shoulder, completely contrasting with the man's clothes, even if this time he went for more subdued colors.

"Let me in and I'll tell you," the blonde retorts as he puts a foot in the corner, ready to push himself inside as soon as Burger gives him room for it.

And Burger can't say no, has never been able to say no to Vang0, so he just rolls to the side and lets Vang0 in before slamming the door closed again.

"Why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate ya visiting, just... it's late and yer carrying a bag," he points out, tilting his head a little. "Y’know you can talk to me, Vang0, right?"

"Y-yeah, that's why I'm here, I-" he pauses, taking a deep breath "I got in trouble, I hacked into something I shouldn't have and I need to lay low for a while"

Vang0 Bang0 messed up, big time, he needs help to get off the radar for a while, and of course that his best friend Burger Chainz would help him, and a road trip seems to be the best way to make him drop from the face of earth until things have quieted down. But the empty roads bring nostalgia and an unearths feelings both of them thought deeply buried. They say that road trips change you, why should that be different in the cyberpunk future?

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, getting together fic, Teen rating, no ao3 warnings needed, maybe some minor canon violence. It's a slightly introspective fic, more focused on how Burger realizes some stuff and how he deals with it.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #2 : CLAIMED!!!

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:15 PM …… did u just ping me to ask if i wore heals

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:16 PM *heels yes i did and do you?

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:17 PM not usually?? ill wear em if its like a big thing or w e i guess (Edited) i mean i havnet really had the oprotuntiy to wear em

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:19 PM are you intentionally misspelling words to make yourself seem cooler to me?? Vang0 I watched you lick a stranger’s nose

Vang0 doesn't remember his birthday. Or his age. Or his interests, his likes, his dislikes, the password to his CollegeBoard account.

(Well, one of those is less important than the others.)

That being said, Burger wants to throw him a birthday party. Dasha is interested, despite herself. A series of assumptions are made, some feelings are hurt, and some lessons are learned.

Ships: Vang0/Dasha/Burger if you squint but pretty much a gen fic

Rating: Probably G, bordering maybe on T for swearing

Sensitive content: Canon-typical amnesia, a little bit of angst, some oblique canon-typical gun mentions, maybe a panic attack later in the fic- I haven't quite decided if that's gonna happen or not yet?

Other info: It's a pretty lighthearted fic focusing on the relationship between the three of them! No AU, pretty much just comedy and fun all the way through. I haven't ironed out all the details of what's going to happen yet, but that's gonna stay pretty consistent- there'll be some angstier/less funny bits here and there, of course, though.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #3 : CLAIMED!!!

Vang0 chewed his lip, feeling uneasy.

“What’s up, friend? You’ve got a big ol’ frown on your face.”

Vang0 blushed. “I’m not- I’m just- thinking. I mean, Joltik usually travel with their mother Galvantula, and it’s unusual for them to be seen without one, so these ones might have been separated from their mother.”

Burger frowned. “Well, that ain’t good.”

Vang0 nodded. “And Galvantula can get very angry when separated from their young.”

Burger opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone yelling loudly.

“BURGER! Burger, where the fuck are you!?”

Vang0 watched as Burger spun around and started towards the basement door.

“Burger!? Are you down here? There’s a huge fucking-”

“No, don’t come down-”

Burger was cut off as the door flew open, and someone catapulted into the basement.

Vang0 stared, eyes wide.

“Burger,” he said, “why the hell is Dapper Dasha in your house?”

Seven months ago, Vang0 woke up in a half-destroyed laboratory with no memories of his life before that. He's made something of a life for himself fixing people's technology, because he somehow knows how to do that really well.

And Burger Chainz is just another one of his clients. That is, until it turns out Burger's hiding ex-Pokemon Contest star Dapper Dasha in his house - who hasn't been seen in two years and just so happens to be Vang0's role model.

Vang0 definitely isn't freaking the fuck out. And he definitely isn't falling in love with Burger, either.

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. A Pokémon AU where Burger owns a farm, Dasha is an ex-contest star in hiding, and Vang0 has no clue what's going on. Rating: Teen. Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, nothing explicit

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #4 : CLAIMED!!!

clink!

Vang0 Bang0 jumped in his seat as the van hit a bump in the road, speeding upon the old, graying highway. The trinkets they had collected over their various traveled crashed and banged, one almost hitting the window. The loud trinkets and music blaring from the car stereo didn’t phase Vang0. They weren’t sure where he was going, but it sure wasn’t home.

Vang0 wasn’t focused on the road, he was focused on something...else. It wasn’t the other cars; there weren’t any. Most people stayed in Night City, so the roads weren’t full a lot, he knew that. But this road doesn't have anything, anything that would ever prove that anyone had ever existed near here. Not even a bottle.

After an eventful drive, Vang0 Bang0 finds themself on a beach with no discernable exits. No stairs, no ladders, not even a boat. Confused, Vang0 comes to terms with what he’s found in Night City, and what they’ve lost along the way. (Also they/he pronoun Vang0 rights)

There are no ships in this fic. I am likely to rate it Teen and Up audiences, since while there is no explicit or intentionally upsetting content, it might get a little sad at times. I’m not 100% sure about the exact direction my fic is going to go, there might be a car crash (not to graphically described, Vang0 is not hurt very badly, since this is [spoilers] a dream or metaphor about Vang0 coming to terms with memory loss). And since it is a dream sequence with no clear exit, this may be an unreality situation.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only minor Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 5 : CLAIMED!!!

Upon Burger barging into Dasha’s bedroom and announcing that he got tick- stop screaming Vang0, it’s just me, got tickets to a film festival tonight, are you guys in, Vang0 informed him that they had “a job tonight, Burger, did you even check the zoogle calendar, we’ll go tomorrow or something,” and no, of course Burger hadn’t checked the calendar, that’s Dasha’s job, and sure we can get tickets for tomorrow too but the Winston Rider film is only showing tonight and I thought you guys might be interested -- “Winst- do you mean Winona Ryder?” -- and after about five minutes of schedule comparisons Dasha simply shoved Vang0 out of the bed and declared that she was going to the movie with Burger, Vang0 was finishing their job, and Burger was going to make her some coffee because “it’s too fucking early for this” even though personally, Burger thought 11:00am was a perfectly reasonable time to be awake -- he was probably missing something, or maybe Dasha had just been up late, Vang0 was definitely a blanket hog and Burger knew from experience that sharing a bed with them would be more likely to result in a semi-conscious tug of war than a decent night’s sleep -- so Vang0 got up to do their job and Burger went and made some coffee and Dasha relocated to the couch, where she downed the coffee and some eggs and promptly fell back asleep for another three hours.

Burger loved Dasha, of course he did, he loved spending time with her and he thought she was beautiful and the idea that they might be dating -- might have been dating for a while -- sat warm and comfortable in his chest, but, except, it just was that, he hadn’t realized that how they interacted might be how two people that were dating behaved, he was just hanging out with his friend, he did stuff like this with Vang0 all the ti- -- now wait, wait a second, now hang on just a second --

a.k.a. 5 times Burger missed the point +1 time he caught a clue

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, Rating: Teen, content warnings for implied violence, drinking, implied sexual content

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 6 : CLAIMED!!!

“What is this? What’s going on? Why am I dressed like I’m straight?” Vang0 hisses, gesturing to everything around him and the wrongness of it all.

“Seriously?” Candella rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “You couldn’t have scheduled your existential work breakdown until after our shift? You don’t see my lesbian ass complaining while I’m on the clock, do you?”

“I—What? Am I speaking another fucking language? You answered none of my questions!”

“Yeah because it’s 9am and the morning rush just ended so I do not have enough energy to indulge just,” Candella gestures at all of Vang0. “whatever is going on with you right now.”

“What’s going on with me right now is that I’ve found myself in a bougie caffeine establishment fever dream that just so happens to have the shittiest store playlist in the history of ever.” Vang0 says, bordering on manic as he looks up at the ancient speaker up in the corner of the shop. “Seriously, what is this terrible song?”

“Hey, Soul Sister by Train.” Candella still, amazingly, does not look alarmed or worried.

Or the one where Vang0 is a barista at Zero and One’s Cafe...except he’s not.

This isn’t his fucking job, this isn’t his fucking life, and it takes a quick look around the horrifyingly low tech coffee shop he’s in and the fact that he’s missing a USB port on his neck to be painfully aware that this isn’t his fucking universe. This is a 2010s over idealistic portrayal of adult mundanity that he and his friends are stuck in and Vang0 has to get them all out of this nightmare before he commits customer service acts of violence.

Bring it on, Coffee Shop AU. Bring. It. On

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. An absurd existential romantic comedy where the trio somehow get transported into a Coffee Shop AU against their wills. Rating: Teen. Content warnings for slight absurd horror and canon typical violence.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 7 : CLAIMED!!!

“That guy in my english class,” Dasha could hear through the speakers the distinct sound of combat boots stepping on cement. What was Vang0 doing outside at this time, alone? “The one I told you about! Burger-” “The one you’ve been crushing on for months and you’re too much of a coward to ask out?” Dasha already knew everything about this guy, Vang0 saw him on the first day of senior year in his english class and he hadn’t shut up about him ever since. 5’10, large and muscular shoulders, nice to everyone and just dense enough that everytime he said something you would automatically think “wow… thank fuck you’re attractive,” but not in an irritating way, you know? Vang0 exhaled, which Dasha interpreted as a yes. “Well I couldn’t ask him out even if i wanted to,” “Huh?” Dasha could hear the cogs in her own brain turning, trying to process what was being said to her. “Because he’s dating a blonde g-” she heard Vang0 stop on his steps and his tone becoming more dry, “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Dasha yawned audibly and tried sitting up again. This time she succeeded, “yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. How did you find out about this and why did you decide to call me at nearly 2 am instead of just waiting until tomorrow?” “I followed them and I saw them talking.” “You’ve lost it.” - Dasha received a call from Vang0 at 1:47 am one saturday night, and everything went downhill from there. They were not friends, she couldn’t understand why Vang0 acted like they were, but they weren’t, because Dasha didn’t have any friends. Except that, when she sees Vang0 struggling, for the first time in 18 years of life she decides that maybe this one idiot is worth getting soft over. And so she helps him bleach his hair over a cup of coffee and a can of Spunky Monkey. Because why the fuck not. - Main pairing is platonic Vang0/Dasha, background ship is Vang0/Burger. The whole story is from Dasha’s POV. Genre is just a very typical teen romance story except that it’s focused more on platonic bonding rather than the actual romance. Vang0 calls Dasha late at night, tells her he wants to bleach his long dark curly hair and cut his bangs after seeing Burger with a blonde girl, and he goes to her place. She helps him do the deed in her bathroom (she’s still elite) as they realize how much they care about each other. Initially inspired by that one scene in Scott Pilgrim where Knives Chau dyes her hair. Rating: general audiences, content warnings: lots of swearing, implied addiction/addiction enabling, shoplifting mention. CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 8 : CLAIMED!!!

vang0 officially disappears on march 23rd, 2040. exact time unknown, but whatever conspires that morning takes place before burger wakes up.

if he’s being honest with himself; he’s seen it coming for a little while now. vang0 isn’t the routine type, he’s young and whip smart and drinks so much redbull that the stuff must pump through his veins.

burger’s an old dog. older than vang0 by at least 2 years, he’s sure. he doesn’t have much, and god doesn’t that sound cliche, but he’s stupid and optimistic- and really. he must’ve known somewhere that the kid wouldn’t stay. he’s got a nasty drug habit that burger cant support and a look in his eyes like he wants the world- burger cant even buy him a fake ID.

this happens sometimes, the coming and going. vang0’ll disappear for a week if he’s lucky, a month if he’s not, but never longer than that.

no use crying over spilled milk.

vang0 goes missing, burger velmently pretends nothing is wrong until he doesnt, and dasha has to pick up the pieces.

missing person fic, burger/dasha/vang0 implied, but nothing explicitly mentioned or talked about, drug use mentioned, mature, canon typical violence, kidnapping, and other canon typical shit- it is night city after all lmao, kind of introspective, alot of burger just thinking back on his relationship w vang0 and shit, but there is some plot as well ig

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 9: CLAIMED!!!

“Anyway, dude, what’s up? Or did you just come over for a cola because you ran out of your own?”

“Oh, right,” Vang0 says. He is still thinking about the man, and Dasha, and Dasha and that man, and Dasha’s long fingers and Dasha’s hair falling over her face as she purses her lips and blows upwards, her breath scattering strands of brown hair around her sharp cheekbones. “Um, there was something on the forum, I think - I think there’s a thing. For us. Should we call Burger?”

“Oh, Burger’s here,” Dasha says. “Somewhere. Burger!” she yells.

“Burger - but he spent the night?” Vang0 says, brain processing too slow somehow.

Dasha doesn’t respond.

“Did you -”

“Have a threesome?” Dasha asks, in her usual blunt way. Her face is pretty expressionless, eyes severe under the liner and blinking less than a person should, but Vang0 knows her pretty well, he can see the corners of her mouth turning up. That means she thinks something is funny. “I don’t think so. Burg!” she calls over her shoulder. “Did we?”

When Vang0 sees a JumpTrash post about vandalism at a club down town, he figures it will be an easy job for the trio - find out who did it, have Burger intimidate them, done. But things are more complicated than they seem, and the gang ends up drawn into a complex scheme involving the Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss, conspiracies and hit men, and people from their past they thought were long gone. Along the way, they'll have to decide what they want out of this job - and what they want from each other....

This is basically an elaborate CAPER, with a bunch of feelings and shit thrown in. It's a job and then it's a crime story! Its kind of a noir? Can I write a noir? WE"LL FIND OUT. It's gonna be fairly long assuming I can get my act together and put in all i want to put in. Like every good story, it's got plot and whatnot but the plot is just a fulcrum around which to wrap some found family polyamory shit, baby. It's Vang0/Dasha/Burger, duh and it takes them a minute to get there but they'll get there! Its gonna have canon-typical violence, basically - none of the trio die or anything, but other people do, and there's blood. There's gonna be a sex scene because I'm not an AMATEUR. Drug use, too, but mostly in happy fun ways. I haven't fully sussed out some of the flashbacks, but probably some oblique references to past traumas, probably Vang0. Nothing explicit, no reliving events or anything. Also i'm 1000 years old, be warned!

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

#polygon #polygon cyberpunk red #pcpr

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temilyrights · 4 years

Text

in conclusion (jack sloane x reader)

Summary: In which jumping to conclusions is never a good idea. (Valentine's day fic)

Word Count: 4122

A/N: Eh I have really mixed feelings about this fic and I'm editing it with a headache which definitely is a stupid idea but I promised @jpncis09 It’d be upload when she woke up and it's already been over a month since valentine's...oops. (Be prepared for angst btw ahah)

Read on AO3

You weren’t bitter. Not even a little. It didn’t matter that everyone seemed to have a valentine apart from you.

It didn’t matter one bit.

And Valentine’s was a stupid day anyway.

But come on. The universe was being an asshole because even Gibbs had had a red rose and a card sitting on his desk when you’d arrived this morning. (It was just a gift from Abby, but still).

Your desk remained empty of anything pink, red or fluffy. It was just kind of embarrassing, especially considering Nick had this massive teddy currently sitting next to his desk. It was facing you and you could swear it was actually smirking.

“Y/N can you please stop glaring at Mr Lovin’.” Your eyes snap away from the teddy and to Nick who sits opposite you.

“Mr Lovin’...” your face scrunches up in disgust. You can hear Ellie sniggering from her desk, Nick sits up straighter.

“Amanda named him,” Nick says defensively, the tips of his ears tingeing pink. You roll your eyes “Just ‘cause you’re jealous Jack hasn’t gotten you anything.” The snide comment is said quietly but you still catch it. Your face goes bright red, the smirk disappearing from your face as you shuffle in your chair and duck your head.

So...that actually might have been the main reason you weren’t in the best mood. You and Jack weren’t together, so you didn’t have a reason to be upset. It was just the way Jack had spent the week going on about being excited for valentine’s day...it had made you a little hopeful.

You’d sent her a bouquet of flowers. You didn’t leave a card but you knew if she wanted to know who they were from it wouldn’t be hard to work out.

“Sorry.” Nick’s sheepish voice breaks you from your thoughts. He actually looks somewhat ashamed at his comment.

“Don’t be,” You laugh. “It’s true.”

“Gibbs isn’t here. Go see her!” You contemplate refusing but she always managed to lighten your mood, and you wanted to see her reaction to your flowers. A smile graces your features as you head up the stairs to her office.

Her office door is closed. You frown, her office door is never closed. Knocking lightly, Jack’s panicked voice quickly calls “Who is it?” from the other side.

“It’s Y/N. Are you ok?”

“I’m good, just in the middle of something.” You think you hear a laugh that's definitely not Jack’s and your frown deepens. The door opens slightly, Jack was wearing red lipstick (which was unusual in itself) but it was also a little messy. You gulp stepping back as dread fills your stomach. “Is this for a case?”

“Uh..” Your head is swarming. Jack raises her eyebrows prompting you to continue. “No. I was just coming to say hi.”

Jack smiles warmly. “Could you come back in a bit then?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You step back and Jack closes the door. Your eyes water against your best efforts and you try to clear the lump in your throat.

Closed office door.

A man’s laugh.

Messy lipstick.

You head back down to the bullpen in a trance. Stopping suddenly when you catch sight of Gibbs’ empty desk. NO. You think you’re going to be sick. Your eyes are burning and everything is too much. Jack and Gibbs? Jack and Gibbs. You’d actually thought there had been a slight hope...You’d sent her flowers and now she was making out with Gibbs in her office. A strangled laugh escapes your throat.

“Y/N?” A hand rests lightly on your arm causing you to jump. Your head spins round and a concerned Ellie is looking back at you. Ellie’s eyes widen and you realise you must look like a mess. “What’s happened?”

Your head is still swarming. You couldn’t respond, every emotion was rushing through your body. Shame, anger, embarrassment, disappointment, sadness, regret.

“Y/N?” Ellie’s voice is slightly panicked now. She looks at Tim and Nick who are watching from their desks.

“I told her to go see Jack.” Everyone turns back to stare at you with wide eyes. Jack had caused this?

“Ok. We’re moving.” Ellie grabs your arm, pulling you along as Nick and Tim quickly get up from their desk and follow. You don’t pay attention to where you are going. It’s not until you’re sat down in a chair you notice you’re in one of the conference rooms.

“Y/N what has happened?” You start laughing, one of those manic laughs that would quickly turn into sobs if you didn’t control it. The others all look at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Can you believe I actually thought that she liked me?” You finally speak after your laughter has subsided. You shake your head, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Jack does like you”

You shake your head. “She’s currently in her office making out with Gibbs so I-”

“WHAT?” Three voices shout in unison and you wince.

“There is no way! I mean the woman is pretty much in love with you!” Ellie and Tim nod along to Nick’s words.

Your laugh is a little more broken this time and you have to fight back the tears that threaten to drip from your eyes. “Did you see them?” Tim asks and you shake your head. “Then how do you know-”

“Jack’s office door was shut. A man’s laugh. Messy lipstick. No Gibbs.”

“Maybe they’re just having lunch together?”

“She asked me to come back later. I’ve walked in on them having lunch before - a couple of times she’s even invited me to join! Today she barely opened the door enough to poke her head through!” Tim and Nick shoot each other uneasy looks.

“This still doesn’t mean she was making out with Gibbs!” You roll your eyes at Ellie’s words and then take a deep breath in an attempt to calm your swirling emotions. It was time to return back to work.

“It’s fine. This is good really right? I know now and Jack and I wouldn’t have worked anyway, let’s be honest. It was just a nice fantasy.” A fantasy. Imagining Jack and you wrapped up together watching tv, imaging her in your bed, messy hair and dazed smiles. Imagining kissing her and always being able to put that wide smile on her face and bringing out the adorable laugh she had. A fantasy. You didn’t need any of that, you could go back to before.

Before what though? Before she became the one thing in your life that could always make you smile? Before she became your best friend? Before you guys started hanging out together just the two of you? Before lunch dates, Before evenings working in her office together for no reason other than you wanted too?

You’d zoned out completely, and quickly wipe away the tear rolling down your face when you notice the team's worried looks. You clear your throat. “Let’s get back to work.” You don’t wait for an answer, getting up and walking out of the room. You head back to the bullpen and to your desk. When Gibbs walks down the stairs less than 10 minutes later, a happy smirk on his face you snap your pencil.

You try to focus back on your work but your mind won’t stop wondering. Nick actually throws a rubber at you at one point because you’d been staring at Gibbs (who only rolled his eyes before getting up and leaving the room). Your eyes bore into his back as you watch him walk the familiar route to Jack’s office.

You spend the rest of the day avoiding her which gratefully isn’t hard as there is no case. The only time you even get close to running into her is when you head to the break room to get a snack and hear her laughing with someone. You freeze before turning the corner and quickly rush away before she can notice you, ignoring the rumble of your stomach.

Tim’s out of the door the second the clock strikes 5. Determined to give Delilah a good valentines day while the twins stay with his sister for the night. You’re just getting ready to pack up and head home when Jack enters. You duck your head, suppressing a groan.

However, Jack either doesn’t seem to notice or doesn’t care as she walks right over to your desk and perches on the side. “Hey.” You don’t look up at her, focusing on packing your bag and steadily avoiding her gaze.

“Hi” You offer. You see Nick shuffling uncomfortably in his chair and can tell he’s about to leg it. You glare at him and he sinks back into his chair, sighing.

Jack’s now watching you curiously. “I wanted to thank you for my flowers.” Your hand stills and tightens around your water bottle.

You continue packing, trying to sound casual. “I’m glad you like them.” Jack’s hand reaches out to grasp your wrist lightly. Your whole body freezes as you swallow loudly and just stare at her hand. Jack frowns from beside you.

“Are you ok?” She asks quietly, leaning in closer, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your wrist. You have to bite your lip hard to stop yourself from whimpering. When you don’t respond, she grabs your chin turning it to face her. She looks so concerned as her eyes flutter over your face.

You see someone move out of the corner of your eye and are reminded of where you are. Your eyes find Ellie, who's sitting at her desk subtly watching the both of you, before landing on Gibbs. He looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you instantly feel sick.

You quickly step away from Jack’s gasp, slinging your bag on your back. “I’m fine. I’ve got to be going though.” You offer Jack a weak smile and ignore the stab of pain in your chest at her hurt expression.

“Wait!” Jack reaches out again to grab your arm as you go to walk past her. You instantly still, your eyes going to the hand holding your arm but she doesn’t let go. “I was thinking...Did you wanna get dinner tonight?”

“Dinner?” You choke...On Valentine’s day? Was she really trying to break your heart further?

“Or just drinks? I don’t mind. If you don’t want to go out we-”

“I can’t,” You cut her off. You don’t understand why she’s doing this. Shouldn’t she have plans with Gibbs? You bite the inside of your mouth hard. “I uh, have plans.”

“Plans?” Jack’s voice croaks, her hand finally flies from your arm, as if burnt.

“Yeah. I have a date.” Your face heats up at the lie and you duck your head. Tears ghost Jack’s eye as she releases a breath. You miss it though, too busy trying to calm your own swirling emotions. “...So, I should be going.”

“I just didn’t know you were seeing anyone…”

“It’s pretty new.” Your eyes go to Gibbs and you swallow roughly.

“Right...You just never mentioned anything...”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know I needed to tell you everything.” It comes out a lot more mean and bitter than you meant and Jack rears back in surprise. You want to apologise but then the image of her and Gibbs making out pops back into your head and you involuntarily tighten your fist. You clear your throat “Well. I don’t want to be late.” You say goodnight to everyone, avoiding Jack’s eyes as you make your way out of the bullpen and to the elevator.

Jack watches you go. “Right. Ok.” She whispers to herself, clearing her throat and blinking away tears. She quickly puts on a fake smile, pushing her emotions down as she focuses back on the people around her. Ellie and Nick are watching her, both with a mix of surprise and pity.

“Jack?” Her head spins towards Gibbs’ concerned voice. But before he can say anything Jack’s speaking again.

“Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow. Have a good evening.” Jack quickly turns and walks off to her office, the other three staring after her in shock.

You cry a lot that evening. It was like you were mourning something you never had. The two of you had gotten so close, and that bright smile she had always directed your way? God, you’d really thought…Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

When you get to work the next morning, Ellie tries to convince you to talk to Jack, but you ignore her and start work. When Gibbs arrives he glares at you. You sink into your chair and bury your head in your computer.

“Dead Marine.” Gibbs barks and everyone quickly grabs their bags. You’re just putting yours on your back when Gibbs turns to face you. “Not you Y/N.”

“What?” You ask in surprise. Tim, Nick and Ellie all watch Gibbs and you uneasily. He doesn’t say anything else, just turns and walks to the elevator, the other three trailing behind him. They shoot you pitying looks as you just stand still mouth blubbering like a fish.

Gibbs treats you like that the rest of the day. Barely speaks to you, only around enough to get the information you’ve collected on the case before he’s glaring at you again. It only pisses you off because how dare he. You didn’t understand what you’d done to piss him off, turned down Jack’s dinner invitation? Surely he’d appreciate that…

You’re standing in the observation room now, watching Ellie and Nick as they interrogate the latest suspect. The door opens, and you turn expecting Tim but are surprised to see Jack. She freezes the second she sees you, looking back to the door deciding if she should just leave. She doesn’t though. Sighing, she avoids your eyes and walks over to watch the interrogation, you hate the amount of space she leaves between you.

You both watch silently, you begin to twitch uncomfortably as the tension in the room builds. “How was your date?” You jolt in surprise, eyes swinging to hers. She’s already watching you a pained expression on her face, and you quickly look away.

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “It was good..” Jack just nods her head, turning back to watch the interrogation.

“Did you do anything nice?” It’s Jack's turn to still now, chuckling hollowly.

“Nope.” There’s an odd tone to her voice and you want to ask more, why Gibbs hadn’t done anything for her? But then Tim enters and Jack’s quickly muttering something about profiles and then disappears from the room.

“What is your problem with me?”

Gibbs sighs, turning around to face you again. You’re both standing behind the stairs. He just directs his signature stare at you so you continue. “You’ve been glaring at me all day, begrudgingly letting me do my actual job!” You’re getting heated, your voice rising and despite how much ‘bad idea, stop!’ is running through your head you can’t seem to. “What is it because I didn’t spend the evening with Jack?” Gibbs’ jaw tightens and you rear back in surprise. “That doesn’t even make sense! You should be happy!”

You laugh incredulously as you stare at Gibbs in shock. “Happy?” Disbelief masks his face and you’re so confused.

“What do you think I don’t know? I mean you both did pretty well at hiding it, I’ll give you credit for that. But now I’ve worked it out it makes sense! I mean everyone always said you two had a ‘thing’ or something, so really I shouldn’t have been surprised right?” Your voice cracks, as frustrated tears make their way down your face, you completely miss when understanding finally crosses Gibbs’ face. You don’t even really see him anymore as you rant. “I was the idiot who fell for her! Y’know when I first realised my feelings, I tried so hard to make them go away because I knew it would only end badly. But all she has to do is enter a room and I'm weak in the knees and now I’ve gone and fucked up our whole friendship because I’m so fucking disappointed that she chose you!”

“Agent Y/N! That’s enough!” Vance’s voice booms from the stairs above you. You jump back suddenly reminded of where you are and look around to see half the office has stopped to watch your meltdown. Your cheeks flame red, and you hastily wipe away the tears rolling down your face. Gibbs has an unreadable expression on his face and the realisation of what you've just done hits you like a ton of bricks.

Your instincts kick in and you run. Barely pausing to grab your bag from your desk (and steadily avoiding the looks from everyone else in the room). The elevator doors are opening just as you’re rushing away and you’re about to thank your luck...when Jack exits. She gasps in shock when she sees you “Y/N?”. The concern in her voice makes it so much worse. You know you must look an absolute mess but you don’t stop, instead, you jump onto the elevator and whack the button to close the door.

When Jack turns away from the elevator to face the room everyone is watching her. “What?” Her arms come to cross her chest and people suddenly start back to work. Vance and Gibbs are now talking on the stairs and Jack can tell something bad just happened.

You were definitely going to get fired right? And even if you didn’t, you couldn’t return now. Your insides squirm and you frustratedly brush tears from your face. You were going to lose your job, your family...Jack. All because you’d lost control of your emotions and shouted at Gibbs! Gibbs, of all people, you really knew how to fuck everything up, didn’t you!

You just crawl into bed when you get home, hiding under your covers and from the world. You must cry yourself to sleep because when you wake up a few hours later the sun is setting. You get out of your rumbled clothes from the day and change into pyjamas before heading to your bathroom to remove the remnants of your makeup and splash cold water against your face.

You’re making yourself a cup of tea when the doorbell rings. You’re going to ignore it but seconds later it’s rung again and then someone is loudly knocking on your door. You sigh, putting down your mug and heading to the door.

You throw the door open, ready to tell whoever it was to politely fuck off but stop when you realise who it is.

“Jack...” You swallow roughly. She looks pissed and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. “Right...Well...Come on in.” You step back to allow her to enter.

“Now you’re worried about people hearing your conversations,” Jack snarks, as she walks past you and into your home. You don’t say anything. Just shut the door and turn around to face her.

She doesn’t say anything else just watches you as you fidget nervously. “I guess they told you…” You finally say, unable to deal with the silence. Jack rolls her eyes at that, because duh. “I uh...I’m sorry. It was super unprofessional, I don’t even really know what happened, one minute I was frustrated at Gibbs for ignoring me and the next I was screaming at him for…” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat.

“For?”

Your eyes narrow as you turn finally meet her eyes. “Really? What you want me to tell you so you can bask in the glory of how pathetic I am.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry ok? I’m the one who was obviously seeing something that wasn’t there! God, I’m such an idiot.” You groan as frustrated tears make their way down your face again. You were so bloody sick of crying. “I’m not going to be able to return to NCIS ever so really you don’t have to worry about any of this, I’ll be gone and you can live happily ever after with Gibbs.”

“Your plan is to leave?” Jack’s eyes narrow and the annoyance is back in her tone.

“Well, what else am I meant to do Jack?” You snap. “I can’t return. The pitying stares would be constant and…” You swallow roughly, your voice quieting “and I can’t watch you two together Jack...It hurts.” Your voice trembles as your eyes ghost with tears. Your hand goes to your chest in an attempt to calm your thumping heart.

You’re taking deep breaths in an attempt to ward off the breakdown you can sense coming. You wanted to escape this conversation with whatever dignity you have left. Jack starts to slowly walk towards you, hand reaching out to touch you but you jump back before she can. “Don’t” You beg, your eyes pleading with her to understand.

She drops her hand, arms hugging around herself. “Gibbs and I aren’t together”

Your gaze snaps up to hers, voice snapping. “Don’t toy with me...Yesterday. In your office, your door was shut, his laugh and,” Your eyes fall to her lips as you think about the way her lipstick had been smudged. You avert your gaze, taking a shaky breath. “messy lipstick.”

Jack lets out a long sigh, her voice softening. “We had lunch. The door was shut because well, I was telling him about the evening I had planned for us. I panicked when you knocked because the dress I was planning on wearing and these chocolates I brought were sitting in plain view and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise?” You swallow roughly, unsure of exactly what she was saying.

“The date I had planned, I didn’t want you to catch on until the last second.” Jack’s avoiding your eyes now, and your jaw drops at her confession.

“When you asked me to dinner…” Understanding finally dawns on you.

“Yeah I didn’t take into account you’d probably have a date.”

“I didn’t. I uh, just needed an excuse, I couldn’t, not when I thought…” You swallow roughly.

Jack’s still standing in front of you, just out of reach and you take a step forward amazed by the way her breath catches. Her eyes flutter over your face and you’ve not sure what she’s looking for but she must find it as a small smile tugs at her lips.

Jack takes a step closer to you, linking your hands together. Your eyes water at the softness of her touch and when your eyes meet hers you see the same watery eyes reflected back at you. “I’m really sorry.” You blow out a breath “God, I really messed everything up.”

“I guess we know I shouldn’t try and surprise you again,” Jack smirks, her eyes lighting up as she takes another step towards you, you were centimetres apart now. You can tell she’s about to throw in another quip but you don’t let her, instead, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

You pull back to gauge her reaction and she’s smiling. Her hand snakes up to your neck and she pulls you back in, the kiss is hard this time and your arms automatically go around her waist to pull her closer to you. You both stumble backwards until your back hits a wall. You stoke the exposed skin on her waist and she releases a soft moan. You struggle to hold back the smirk that tugs at your lips knowing you can pull that sound out of her.

Jack slowly pulls away from your lips. You’re both breathing deeply and you can’t open your eyes scared this is all going to disappear.

“Y/N?” Jack soothes, wiping away a tear that rolls down your cheek. You shiver.

“What happens now?” It comes out so breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Whatever we want.” Jack’s hand is still rubbing at your cheek and when you finally open your eyes again a smile fills her face. Jack’s eyes go to your lips and she leans over to kiss you again, it’s soft and sweet and almost feels like a promise.

Your foreheads rest against each other. You’re just about to lean back in and kiss her again when a realisation of an earlier comment comes back to your brain. “Wait, did you say you brought me chocolates?”

Jack breaks into laughter, rolling her eyes as she pulls you into a kiss, a wide smile still on her face. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring and you try not to think about it. Tonight was just about you and Jack.

#jack sloane x reader #ncis #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #maria bello #fanfic #writing #reader insert #angst #valentine's day

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queen-rogah · 5 years

Text

Chasing Dreams - Part 10

A Queen AU Series

Series summary: In the year of 1971, you dreamed to be the best musician/performer that you'll ever be. And upon achieving your dream, you have met the four musicians that would surprisingly help you to chase your dreams. The story of you and the rising band is deeply life-changing, and even finding love would get in the way, but all you have to do in chasing those dreams is to always face the consequences...

In this chapter: You went to the record shop to meet Tommy, if he's still offering the job. Your first performance and Queen's comeback performance in Crown & Anchor will happen tonight. Freddie and Victoria brought all of you in a nightclub to celebrate. Roger asked you about something important...

Warnings: language, fluffs, mild angst

Word Count: 5.4k+ words

Note: I can't believe we're on part 10 and actually this series will be longer than I expected, but I'll still be making some small fics here and there :) And there will be slow updates by now since I'm back in school again and I need to study too (it's already my last year in high school) so yeah, I hope you guys understand :)

MASTERLIST OF CHASING DREAMS SERIES

♡♡♡ PART TEN: "THE PERFORMANCE NIGHT" ♡♡♡

"Thanks for driving me here Roger."

You hop out of the van while clutching your resume inside your hands. You closed the car door behind you as you looked at the record shop in front of you. Universal Sounds is the name of the record shop, and the best thing is Crown & Anchor is just blocks away from this record store.

"Hey love," Roger called, leaning over from the inside of the van. "Tell Tommy that he should come over by the pub tonight for the performance. I've never seen that bloke for a long time."

"Yeah, sure Rog." You smiled.

The blond drummer grinned at you, "Good luck out there love. Tommy is a great guy, I swear you'll be getting that job in no time." He said.

"Let's see if the job is still vacant, I really hope so. Now go, you'll be late for your Horticulture thingy." You giggled.

"See you tonight. Can't wait to see you on that stage Y/N, you'll bloody kill it." He playfully winked at you.

You're trying to hide your blushing cheeks from him. So, you just slowly stepped away from his van as you waved goodbye to him as he drives away from the street. You sighed deeply, exhaling all the inhibitions from your body and finally stepped forward, entering the shop. You heard faint sounds of music playing, seeing that it's from the studio where anyone can play and listen to any records that they like.

They're playing Elvis.

This place is like a wonderland to you, seeing every kind of records that you can't afford. Only the Hendrix records back at your home are only passed down to you from your older cousins before. You've visited record shops back in West Hampstead since you're a little one and those shops are just small shops, but this record shop. It's different.

It's so large and wide where almost every records are here.

You stopped looking through every aisles in this shop as you approach the girl in the counter, who's reading the magazine. You put up a toothy smile as you stood in front of her.

"Hi." You spoke. She just looked up to you with those tired, tired eyes. "Is Tommy Muller here? I need to speak to him."

"Tommy only gets to speak with people he knows, and I don't think he knows you. Hm?." She squint her eyes as she just gave you a straight smile, going back in reading the magazine.

She's rude.

"Well, his friend Brian May said to me that Tommy needs a new employee here in this shop. And I am that person that wants to talk to him because I just want to ask if the job is still vacant." Your voice raised until the end of the sentence. The girl just had her jaw agape at you as she puts the magazine down, going towards the door by the right side of this room.

An entrance to an office.

You've waited for a couple of minutes, tapping your nails on the counter while waiting. The song changed, replacing Elvis to The Supremes. Your head tilts up when the door finally opened, seeing a man--maybe around Freddie's age, wearing that brown velvet jacket and flares. He's too young to be a manager in this kind of business though.

"Hello, you must be Y/N Y/L/N." He approaches you, reaching out his hand to you as you happily shake it.

"And you must be Tommy. Nice to meet you." You smiled at him, not looking at the girl behind him whilst she is still eyeing you up and down.

It's like she's threatening you to step back from this attractive man before you.

"Brian called me earlier this day and told me all about you love," He said, pulling his hand from you, "It's been the second week that we are finding new employees here. You're lucky one of them left just by last Saturday..."

Your face lit up, "So that means, the job is vacant?." You excitedly asked.

Tommy chuckles, "It is. And probably we'll need someone to get behind the cash register and put on some price tags here and there, maybe sort records in their genres--"

"--I'll take it Tommy. I'll do everything that you just said. Maybe I'll start by Saturday, if you'll like--because I have uh...some performance every Friday nights, so Saturdays shall do fine..." You stuttered, wanting to convince him.

"Is she serious?--" The girl complained but Tommy lifts up his hand to shut her up. She did shut up. Her pesky little mouth zipped close for good.

"Can you please stop complaining for once Charlotte. It's our new employee we're talking to right now." Tommy smirks as he finally gave his hint. You gasp that you got in, without any exception. Without giving him your own fucking resume.

"D-do you need my resume? Maybe read my experiences? Or uh interview me or anything?." You vigorously asked him.

"This is just a small local record shop love, not a company with a huge building and hundreds of employees. You start Saturday, take the daytime shifts. Charlotte, take the night shift from now on." Tommy commands as you uncontrollably smile before him. Charlotte rolled her eyes as she groan in annoyance, but continues reading on her magazine while holding that cigarette between her fingers. Ashes falling down the laminated wood of the counter.

"Thank you so much Tommy. And actually, Roger invites you to come by in Crown & Anchor to watch us play. He misses you though." You grinned.

"Hm, I miss that blondie also. I'll see if I'll come by tonight. Best of luck to you also for your performance. But remember, 8AM sharp by Saturday, you'll be accompanied by another employee. I forgot her name already, but you'll meet her tomorrow." Tommy babbles his mouth as he adjusted his coat.

"8AM on the dot, I'll be there."

...

"I got the job!." You exclaimed when you soon stepped in the flat, just to see Freddie sitting by himself in the living room watching the telly.

"You did?," He beamed, standing from the sofa and immediately gave you the warmest hug. "Good for you darling! When are you going to start?." He asked.

"Tomorrow at 8, and Tommy is such a nice guy. I can't believe he's so young to manage that place." You said while getting your coat off and put it on the wooden chair by the window where Freddie would sit and write some songs by himself sometimes.

"I remember Tommy before when he first saw us perform for the very first time. He's so close to Brian, more like brothers already. He's also supportive back then, but when his father died and he became the heir of the record shop business, he stopped going to pubs and just think about the shop." Freddie stated, finding his way back in his seat again. You also sat on the sofa and sadly smiled.

"That's just great because he's still making sure that the record shop is still alive, for his father, of course." You replied, staring blankly at the telly with a random tv show playing.

You and Freddie slowly sighed deeply as you both fell into an awkward silence, never having an idea to bring up another topic. Only the ticking of the clock was being heard between you two.

"So? Where's Vicky? I thought the dresses will be done by now so that she'll come with us tonight?." You asked him.

You heard him sigh. Deeply.

"She's working to the bone. I tried calling her at work but she's not answering. Maybe too busy." Freddie replied. You sighed too as your hand dropped on his shoulder, patting him for the comfort.

It's just so sad to see Freddie feeling sad about the person he loves be so busy that their time together is already limited. And that thought just made you remember of Jonathan, where you still haven't talked to him in days. From those countless days that you've been spending with him before have turned into nothing now.

"Hey, don't be sad now Freddie. I'm pretty sure she'll come by in the pub tonight. I really want to see her too since it's my first performance." You chuckled. Then you see him smile now.

He looks at you with that same warm smiled on his face, "I'm lucky to have you as a friend darling." He replied.

You heart softens as you clutched your hand on your chest like you've felt the wave inside of your ribcage.

"And you too Fred."

...

Roger, John, Brian and Rosalie came by in Freddie's place in hours before the performance tonight. They talked about their setlist and also your own setlist. You're all here in the living room, Brian and Rosalie are sitting far away from each other as you realized they have not interacted that much today, maybe had another fight again. John was playing Freddie's acoustic guitar while sitting on the floor just beside the sofa. You and Roger are both on the sofa with your legs rested on his lap while he paid attention to what Brian was saying. You're writing down and editing your setlist. Putting on songs from Elton John by now, the same from The Beatles and obviously from Hendrix. You're still thinking about putting on your own songs. Maybe the crowd won't like your songs and have second thoughts about you. Maybe they'll just judge you.

Your worst nightmare.

"I can't believe this is the first band discussion as Queen." Freddie entered the room with the lemonade he's been making for minutes from the time the boys went in.

"So, we still keep the same setlist?." Brian asked as he tapped the pencil on his lap. You also caught him glance at your sister who's being silent.

You're suspicious.

But you just kept your mouth shut, minding your own business.

"What about this?." You spoke, leaning over to Roger as you gave him your journal with your songs. He looked at it and watch him write on the paper. You look over to see he put Hendrix as your opening song, the same song you've sang back at your father's pub where the boys heard and saw you perform before.

"Always start off with a song that everybody is in love with. I know Tiny Dancer is one of those, but the tune is too soft to be the opening song." Roger said and you agreed. Ever since you heard Tiny Dancer on the radio, you automatically fell in love with that song. It's just two weeks since it's release but you already memorized the lyrics.

"And also put your own songs. It'll be a waste if you don't." He suggested.

Of course you shake your head.

"No. That will never happen." You laughed, snatching your journal from his hand and again lean back on the armrest of the sofa, your legs resting on his lap again.

"How can you be the perfect performer if you don't have the confidence to share your own songs?." Roger defended his side. Your eyebrows raised.

"I'm not the perfect performer Rog, and I'm scared about the audience. What if they won't like my song? That'll be an embarrassment." You replied.

"No it won't." Roger again interfere.

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will--"

You and Roger soon stopped arguing like little children when the others are looking at the both of you. Silence was created among them as your cheeks turn into a red shape as you see Freddie smirking like crazy between the two of you.

"Aren't you two adorable? Arguing like a real couple." Freddie teased as your blush became worse.

"Shut up Fred." You broke off a laugh as you push him away. John and Brian was also laughing at your blushing face. Only Rosalie was silent, but had a smile on her face as she watches you and Roger blushing.

...

Only two hours left before the performance will happen. You all are already in Crown & Anchor, waiting for your turn. Queen will perform first before you, so after their performance they can guide you while you're on stage in front of strangers with their eyes only on you as they listen to you sing your songs. The others are standing by the stage as they watch the performers finish their gigs too while you're outside, here in the payphones with your guitar in your left hand as you're holding the phone with your right.

You're speaking with your father again, luckily Jonathan was there with him back home.

"I'm hearing loud noises in your background dear. Are you already preparing on stage?." Your father asked, the excitement in his voice was present.

"No, their phones are actually outside the place but it's just so amazing that you can still hear the band playing inside." You chuckled. "And in just two damn hours, I'll be standing on that stage already as I sing the songs in front of them."

You fell into deep silence and deeply sighed.

"I don't know if people will like it or not." You added. Your back soon lean back on the wall, the cord of the phone is already dangling from it's case.

"They will love it Y/N, just like how the people did here. Remember when you're just a 17-year-old girl who wants to perform on stage?." Jonathan spoke, already missing his voice. You can't stop smiling as you let out a dry chuckle.

"Yeah, I remember..." You replied. Your eyes soon became glassy as the small tears rolled down your cheeks. You can't explain what emotions have you been exerting right now if it is happiness or sadness.

Maybe it's just in between.

"Now you're there, in a place where mostly people doesn't know you. You will perform well, like you did back home. If you ever feel the doubt about yourself, just think of the stage there as your small stage in the train station before, only with a bigger crowd." Jonathan stated, trying to comfort you. It's really true that he's the only one that can comfort you with only his words. And you're lucky to be his best friend and someone that is important in his life.

"God, I miss you so much Jonathan." You snifled, wiping away your tears as you start laughing to let out the sadness out of you.

"I miss you too Y/N, when will you come home?." He asked. Again.

You took an intake of breath, "Soon Jonathan. I'll come home." You replied.

The back door soon opened to reveal Roger looking out then see you here in the payphones, "Y/N, you need to come inside now and check the stage." He said.

"Okay, hold on one sec--Hey Jonathan, I need to go, take care back there and always look after mum and dad. Love you and miss you so much." You replied fast.

"Take care also Y/N, love you--"

The payphone already cuts off the phonecall.

And you didn't wait for Jonathan to reply earlier. You just left.

...

You're already behind the stage, hands tightly gripping your guitar. The boys are there for you, motivating you so that you can't overthink about the negative side of your upcoming performance in an hour. They will be the first to perform before you, so that's why Deacy is already holding his bass, Brian on his red special, and Freddie with his own mic.

Roger is missing in action.

"Just remember darling, just enjoy the performance later just like you did in the your stage back in your hometown. You'll be bloody amazing." Freddie said while gripping your shoulder. You smiled at him and appreciated his comfort.

"Thank you Freddie, now go and wow the crowd." You chuckled as you playfull pushed him away from you. Your heart warms up when you see his teeth--his additional incisors, in view in front of you. He put on his fashionable leather gloves on as he took his mic again, inhaling and exhaling all his inhibitions on stage.

You turn around, only to meet Roger holding his drumsticks and see that he had changed to his stage clothes. Which made your eyes widen up and your heart skipped a beat.

He's standing there, wearing that floral top, all buttons undone where you can see his chest, slightly glistening with sweat since it's a bit hot in this pub. Those tight leather pants aren't helping either, you can't stop looking down south.

Until you snapped out of yourself when you the band that is performing earlier went back here as their voices boomed in, congratulating themselves in their successful gig. The boys are already up next. And then you'll be up next.

"Ready boys?." Freddie spoke as they nod their heads. You watch them enter the stage one by one.

But Roger left for a second, feeling his hand drop on your lower back. Chills ran down your spine.

"Wish me good luck." Roger said as you nod your head in response, tongue tied because of his breathtaking aura. He soon entered the stage as his appearance swoon the ladies in the crowd. Hearing them squeal in happiness to see the Roger Taylor again in the stage of Crown & Anchor.

"It's good to be back here again in Crown & Anchor. For those who didn't know, this is the place where we had our first gig as a band and a few of you knew us as Smile, right?," Brian spoke in his mic as he heard several people agreed to him, smiles plastered on different faces. "And now, we are here tonight to introduce ourselves as Queen. Our new name."

"That's right." Freddie proudly interfere.

"Let's do this," Brian said to the boys as they played their first song. Watching them with awe like the very first time that you have seen them on stage. Still have that glitter and that strong stage presence.

You enjoyed their music while hanging out backstage throughout their performance. And you didn't felt nervous ever again when you're hearing the people enjoying the songs. You just remember their words to you before you will go on stage. Just like Freddie said, imagine that you are on stage of your father's pub in front of the people you knew while performing.

You know you could do it.

In the middle of their performance, you peek out again to watch them perform and suddenly see a familiar face watching from a distance. You heard his howls as he bangs his head and dances with the heavy tune of the beat.

It's Tommy, together with a friend who wrapped his arms around him in pure excitement when Queen ended another song--and they have a bunch of good-looking girls around them.

He's having a time of his life.

Several minutes later, they finished their gig and heard the people applauded them and finally see them got backstage again, looking haggard and worn out by playing. You stood up from the amplifier that you're sitting on as you took your guitar again.

"We'll be down there to watch you darling, see you in a bit." Freddie said as him and Deacy left backstage, with also Deacy wishing his luck to you.

Roger and Brian left behind.

You can't explain how awkward you're feeling right now.

"Good luck out there Y/N, give the people what they want." Brian smiles at you, then suddenly felt his hands took a hold of your shoulder.

"Thank you Brian." You said, almost like a whisper as you watch him left the room too. Following Freddie and Deacy.

Then again you faced the blond drummer, "Wish me luck also?." You playfully smirked at him as he chuckles.

He approaches you, never stopping him in putting his hands on either side of your hips. He held you there like your body belongs to him. "Good luck love." He said and he winked at you before following behind the others.

Now you're all alone and you think you're all set. You took a deep breath before stepping on stage, finally facing these unknown faces in your whole life. You stood in front of the mic, lightly tapping it to test if there's sound, but the loud hissing sound from the speakers annoyed the audience as you mumbled sorry.

Some people are already leaving the pub, some aren't paying attention.

And yet you still sang, because it's your beginning and you need to start it with a positive vibe from the audience.

"Oh, remember the mocking bird, my baby bought. He used to sing for his supper, baby..." You softly sang the first verse, hands also softly strumming the guitar.

Your rendition tonight was slower than you did before and more emotions have been exerted. You look around the crowd--the crowd that became lesser than earlier. You can also see some people grew interest to you as they stayed behind while drinking on their usual drinks.

Then the other verses came, your energy revved up as you played the guitar with the original groovy beat of the song. Hips swaying around as you watch the people now smiling up at you on this stage. You saw the boys watching you in the audience with proud hearts. You have seen Roger who have his eyes only locked at you, watching you once again do your passion--back in the old pub, back in your small place in the train station.

You finished the song with the people clapping their hands to you. You took a deep breath before gripping the mic, pulling it close to your mouth again.

"I hope you all are having fun tonight, so here's a song that's been my favorite at the moment..." You spoke as you strummed your guitar again. You have practiced the chords of this song as you feel the deep stares of the audience as you skillfully played the guitar.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man..." You sang with your soft voice again and suddenly heard them sang along with you on this soft melodic song.

You got in the chorus part, seeing the people sway around with the melody. The people who just came in joins into the crowd. You look over to the boys--who are gazing at you while you're slowly shining up on-stage. You also saw Robert joins in with them as he fix his eyes on you, then a smile soon came up his lips.

You finished your song. Never expecting some people will clap for you.

You ended your performance, but didn't even sang your own songs.

...

"Oh darling you did so good up there!." Freddie soon embraces you when you join in with them in the crowd. The others also praising you as you thank them over and over. First performance of your life here has been a great start.

"Y/N...I--you did so good, you're perfect but," Roger spoke as he held your hand, pulling you with him to get a short distance from the boys. "Why didn't you sang your songs? You even put it on your set." He frowned.

"I'm too scared to sing it..." You sighed.

"That's not an excused. If you're scared to sing it in front of these strangers, then why did you sang your song to me comfortably before?." He asked.

Your lips closed in a thin line as you stare at the ground, then back up looking in his eyes again. "Because you're not a stranger to me Roger. I know you, that's why I'm comfortable singing my own songs to you."

You saw Roger's eyes softens as a smile breaks off his lips, he sighs and slides his hands in yours again. "You really are something Y/N." He whispers.

"Yeah?." You smiled.

He nods. Still have that smile on his face.

That tension between you and him thickens as you watch him slowly leans over to you, his hands that are holding your hand earlier went to your waist. You're feeling his warm breathing, inching closer and closer.

Until, "Y/N! There you are!." Someone interrupts the moment that causes you and Roger to jump away from each other.

It's Robert who's approaching. You look over to Roger who is visibly blushing before you, making a giggle escape your lips.

"Y/N, thank you for that wonderful set earlier. You're a hidden gem yeah?." Robert gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as you blushed in his words.

"Oh shut up Robert. I'm just a medium talent. Nothing biggie." You wave off your hand to him.

"Enough with that humble-jumble. You are insanely breathtaking on that stage. Keep it up. See you all next Friday again." Robert eyed you and the boys before leaving you all here to talk with everyone else he knows in this room.

Before you can even talk to Roger again and wanted to finish off what you're both starting earlier, someone from behind suddenly picked you up off the ground as you squealed in shock. Your heart almost dropped when you heard that familiar laugh.

"Tommy, this isn't funny! You almost gave me a heart attack!." You squeak and he finally lets you go. You faced the man that happens to be your boss in your job and he have his friend beside him that's been with him earlier while you and Queen are performing.

"But you didn't and I'm proud of you love! even though we just met earlier this morning." Tommy said and gave you a huge kiss on the cheek. "And oh! How rude of me, this is William--or Will, one of my closest friend." He motioned on his friend beside him.

"Nice to meet all of you. You all had an amazing performance." He compliments as you all thanked him.

"Thank you." You all thanked him. Then Freddie soon offered Tommy and William a drink as they toast. You chose not to be intoxicated tonight since you're having your first job tomorrow morning. You don't want to suffer in that hangover.

But Tommy is drinking. You said in your mind.

"Hi everyone!." That familiar voice came in and see Victoria, who had her arms open. Freddie darted his look to her as he rejoiced, hugging her first then gave her a sweet and passionate kiss.

Your heart always warms up to the both of them.

"Vicky! I'm so glad you came! But you missed our performances though." You approach her as she pulls you in a warm hug.

"There will be another Friday night though, but still, I'm sorry I'm so late." She sighs.

"It's fine Vicky. We're still glad you're here, even though you're late." You grinned and again pull her in an embrace.

After celebrating for a bit in the pub, Vicky soon called you all in for another celebratory round in a nightclub down the street. Tommy and William with their girl-friends tag along too. The loud pumping beat of groovy songs envelopes the whole room filled with people in any age. Freddie and Victoria excitedly entered this nightclub and find some table for us. John came with Tommy and William as they chat away. Brian and Rosalie looked alright tonight, they have their hands tied as your sister pulled his boyfriend to Freddie and Victoria who found a round table by the corner of the room.

And you're all alone with the drummer again.

"So you're still thinking about not drinking tonight?." Roger asked. You face him and see his smirk on his face.

"I don't know Rog, maybe or maybe not." You chuckled. You both went to the table where they are and finally see the drinks have settled in. Each one of you have it's drink.

Roger turns his look at you, motioning you to take the drink.

And then you take the drink, smiling at them before you, "To our careers." You said.

"Cheers!."

...

You stopped at your third drink, even Roger stopped too. Just Freddie, Vicky and Tommy are wasted in the dancefloor. John, Brian, Rosalie, William and the girls are nowhere to be found in the nightclub. Maybe they have gone home, or just lost in the thick crowd. You're leaning against the bar counter, watching the people dance. Roger went to the loo.

The song changes up to Beatles. The crowd howls in happiness.

Glass Onion

Just in time Roger came back from the loo, your body itches to dance with the people in front of you. That's why you hold out your hand to him, a smile on your lips.

"Dance with me Rog." You said.

He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry love, but I don't dance." He apologizes. You frowned.

"Everybody can dance." You replied with your eyebrows furrowed at him.

"I don't want to embarrass myself in the dancefloor. Glass Onion is my favorite song actually but I really don't dance." He gave reasons. Now your hand lowered down, setting them on your hips.

"Suit yourself. You'll regret it someday." You teased him as he lightly chuckled.

You made your way in the dancefloor to Tommy who's enjoying his life while dancing with plenty of ladies around him. Such a ladies man.

"Tommy," You called him out as he whips his head to you, a drunken smile appeared on his lips. "Do you want to dance with me?."

He excused himself from the ladies as he took your hand without any word at all. He just spins you around and groove with the music. You laughed at his tipsy self when he's spinning you around because he's actually wobbling on his feet. Freddie and Vicky are living their own life. Happily in love.

"I think you need to sit down Tommy. Come on, off we go." You pat his shoulder as you help him lean over to you. You grip his waist as you led him to the bar where Roger is.

"What happened to him?." Roger asked.

"Too much alcohol. Obviously. And he have a record shop to run." You said. Setting Tommy down as you ordered water, then giving it to him.

Roger stared at you for a while. Watching you take care of Tommy, and how you are so concerned. He admires these little things to you. Your love of the people you care about it one of your best traits. And Roger saw that in you this instant.

"Y/N..." He mumbles. Under his breath.

And still you heard his mumble.

"Yeah?." You face him.

"Can I speak to you for a second? Alone? Tommy can take care of himself now." He said.

You looked at Tommy who already is sleeping on the counter. His hand still gripping the glass of water. You return your look on the blond drummer.

"Yeah, sure. I'll hear it."

__________________________ IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS SINCE I EVER WROTE SOMETHING AND OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME THOUGH.

But I can't promise you I will be updating the next chapter that fast because I'm still busy at most times at school and everything. But hey! I finally finished chapter 10 in 3 fucking months.

See you guys in a bit again!

___________________________

*TAGLIST:

@lilytalebi @luvborhap @ziggymay @kiwithekiwi @imgonnabeyourslave @deakysmisfire

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST, LET ME KNOW!

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #brian may x reader #brian may x you #freddie mercury #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury x you #John deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #queen band #queen fanfiction #queen imagines #queenrogah's fic

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softyoongiionly · 5 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Six

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: I’m literally on fire after writing this chapter lol. I hope you like it!😊

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, anxiety, sadness, some angst aka Jimin is an insecure boy who is unaware that he is literaly heaven on earth, swearing, suggestive situations/concepts, if you squint really hard you can see the beginnings of smut.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 6: Doubt and Shadow Demons

You’re lying on your bed in one of your many baggy t-shirts, smiling like an idiot at your phone. Jimin had sent you screenshots of what he believed to be Yoongi’s twitter. If Jimin wasn’t aiming to be a dancer, you would have suggested a career as a private investigator because, he could literally find anyone. You hadn’t asked Jimin to go looking for more information on Yoongi but, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested. His Twitter was mostly black, no bio and, no location but, the avatar was a picture of Yoongi wearing headphones, his newly blonde hair disheveled as he smiled at the camera. He really had no business being that cute. ‘@agustd93’ was his handle and you furrowed your brows in confusion as you tried to decipher what it could mean. Yoongi didn’t seem to tweet much, he just retweeted a lot of music equipment accounts however, there were a few scattered tweets here and there that made you laugh.

“Roommates are drunk, again. They can’t hold their alcohol for shit.”

“Update: Drunk Hobi is obsessed with my cheeks and, I swear if he pinches them one more time, I’m going to cut his hands off.”

“Another Update: Joon just started crying after explaining to me that, “we are all just little flowers in the garden of life, trying to find our bees.” What the fuck does that even mean?”

You giggle, shaking your head, your thumb scrolling down to search for more tweets. There were more scattered between retweets of what you assumed to be the latest music equipment as Yoongi quoted some of the them with captions like ‘Dream Studio’ and ‘if only I wasn’t broke.’ You kept scrolling before coming across a tweet that made your stomach flutter.

‘Where? Everywhere.’

Fuck. He tweeted that last night. After you and Yoongi got off the Ferris Wheel, you actually ended up having a pretty decent time. The two of you got dinner at the park and wrote your experiences down in your research journals. Yoongi acted like the conversation on the Ferris Wheel never happened but, he seemed to warm up to you more and more as the night progressed. But still, nothing flirty occurred between the two of you and, Yoongi was very careful not to get too close to you. The whole thing was very confusing, one minute, Yoongi’s admitting that he would kiss you ‘everywhere, if you let him’ and, the next minute he’s treating you like he normally did. This tweet was sent at 11:30 which would have been around the time he got back to his place. Maybe it wasn’t about you, Yoongi seemed to have a habit of being vague and, he easily could have been talking about something else but, none the less, it made your heart skip a beat.

Did you like Yoongi? More importantly, did it matter? You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of your complicated thoughts as you rolled out of bed. Marzipan throws a complaint your way as you walk past her lounging at the end of the mattress. Normally, you would be out at your favorite crepe café gossiping with Jimin over some iced coffee but, Jimin had texted you the night before saying that his showcase rehearsal was running late and he didn’t think he’d get any sleep if he met up with you. You had of course met this with an abundance of understanding as you knew better than anyone how hard Jimin had been working at his showcase routine. So, instead of meeting up with your best friend, you planned on working on your final paper for your International Relations course. You had been working on it all semester and, felt accomplished that for once, you didn’t procrastinate. Green tea was essential for today’s writing session so; you brewed a decent sized pot before, continuing your paper. Marzipan eventually made her way out into your living room, opting to sprawl out on the couch, claiming her space as usual.

After writing for some time, you glance at the clock at the bottom of your laptop and your eyes widen. Shit. You had been writing for 4 hours. How was it possible that much time had passed? You had gotten a lot done, adding an additional 6-7 pages to the giant that was your final paper. Just after leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs, your phone lights up with a text message.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): I miss the squad tho.

You giggle at the message, your heart warming as you reply.

BROS 4 LYFE: me too tho :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): me 3 tho :/ :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): MY BABIES :( i miss u guys.

A hint of sadness plucks at your chest as you read the messages being sent in by your friends. You had made new friends in school and, college had been an overall fun time but, you had to admit that you never stopped missing having all three of your bestfriends in one place. The past four years hadn’t been the same without them and you couldn’t wait til the four of you graduated so, that you could finally have your group back together again. Jungkook had been drafted to play pro ball on a minor league team in your current city and, Taehyung had made the decision earlier in the semester to pursue his masters in art history at the school you and Jimin were currently attending. This meant that in a few short weeks, everything would back to normal for a little while.

BROS 4 LYFE: only a few more weeks my dudes, we got this.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook) stay on that grind squad, college grad hours are about to be open.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): kookie and tae, will you be here for my showcase? It’s two weeks before graduation.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): duh. We wouldn’t miss it for the world Jiminie.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): yea we would never miss a chance to see the world’s shortest ballerina.

Your eyes widen as you laugh, already imagining Jimin igniting in fury when he reads the message. His reply comes before you are able to chime in.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): YAH! IM NOT A BALLERINA!

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): I AM A CONTEMPORARY DANCER.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THE CHAMPION CONTEMPORARY DANCER

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THREE YEARS RUNNING THANKYOUVERYMUCH

At this point you’re in a full blown laughing fit, shaking your head as your fiery best friend pops off in the chat.

BROS 4 LYFE: go best friend, that’s my best friend.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): let the record show that Kookie bought 12 of the limited edition Jimin shirts that your school sold after he won the championships.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T TELL

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): >:)

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): love u kookie

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): …love u too…

The responses eventually dwindle down and, you decide to hop in the shower to tend to the mop of hair that was growing slightly greasy on your head. Afterwards, you throw on a cozy sweatshirt and your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama shorts and, settle on the couch to watch some Netflix. You hadn’t had a night in to yourself in a long time and, it felt amazing to be able to sit around and, do nothing. Marzipan made her way up your body before, snuggling up in the free space between you and the edge of the couch. As your fingers absentmindedly stroke her fur, you feel your lids becoming heavier and heavier and, finally, you drift off into a much needed nap.

Needless to say, the nap turned into you passing out around 7:30 and, sleeping through the night until, finally, you awake to the ethereal sound of the never-ending city construction. You grumble as you pull the covers over your head to drown out the noise causing Marzipan, who clearly hadn’t left her spot all night, to flee from the couch. Checking your phone, you noticed a few messages from your group-chat and a snapchat or two from some of your other friends. After responding to the majority of your missed messages, you drag yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen to make some coffee. The microwave displayed the current time: 7:45am; an unholy time to be awake on a Saturday morning. The coffee was finishing up before a loud knock at your door caused you to jump out of your skin. Who the hell was at your house at 7:45 in the morning? You gingerly made your way to the door, hoping that it was just someone from maintenance. Opening the door, you nearly scream as a tuft of pink hair practically collapses into your arms. It was Jimin and, he was crying.

“Jimin, babe, what’s wrong?” You hold him to you, your eyes wide with concern as you usher him into your apartment.

“I can’t do it y/n, I can’t do anything right.” He cries into your t-shirt, his hands clutching you as if you’re about to slip away.

You rub his back, maneuvering you both onto your couch, Jimin clinging to you all the while.

“Hey, hey, that’s not true at all.” You murmur soothingly. “Jimin, what brought this on? Did something happen?”

Jimin, still crying, nods, as the tears stream down his puffy cheeks.

“I’ve been rehearsing for…for 36 hours…and I ca…can’t….do it…I can’t get it right. I ke…keep messing up. I’m n…not getting it…they’re…they’re going to drop me from the showcase if I can’t do it….they…they will…” At this point, your heart is broken, your usually smiley best friend is completely shattered, sobbing, into your arms. You hadn’t seen him like this since he had his first serious breakup sophomore year and, even that couldn’t compare to what you saw before you.

“Shh…minnie…it’s ok, it’s ok, I got you.” You gingerly tilt his swollen face towards yours, your eyes holding an immense amount of emotion as you gaze into his. “Listen to me ok? You can’t rehearse like that, you’re going to burn out and, get hurt. You have to rest. You’ve been practicing non-stop for the entire semester. You could do that routine in your sleep babe. The only reason you probably messed up is because you are exhausting yourself.”

Before you can even finish, Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once again as he shakes his head.

“No…no…you don’t understand…y/n…the coaches came to watch me last night and, I fell…I fell and they…they said that they were disappointed with my progress…and that I need to do better…so…I had to stay to re…rehearse…cause I failed. I failed y/n, I failed.” Jimin bursts into another fit of sobs as he clutches you tighter and, you actually have to hold back the tears that are pricking the corners of your own eyes.

“Dancers fall all the time Jiminie, it’s ok, you had been rehearsing all day. Every free moment you have, you spend in the studio practicing. I know it must have been so hard to fall in front of your coaches but, hey,” You tilt his face to you once more before he can hide away in your arm again. “You are Park fucking Jimin. You are the youngest collegiate dancer to win the national showcase and, the ONLY dancer to win it three years in a row. Dancing is like breathing to you. Audiences are mesmerized as soon as you step on the stage. You did not fail. You are exhausted. You can’t work yourself like this or, there won’t be a Park Jimin to win the showcase four years in a row.” As your words tumble out of your mouth, Jimin begins to calm down, still sniffling lightly, he hugs you again, his normally sparkling eyes, heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m so scared…y/n…there’s so much pressure and, I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it if I disappoint anyone.” You place a chaste kiss to the top of his bubblegum hair as you nod.

“It’s ok to be afraid, this is something you really want and, when we really want something, the thought of failing can be crippling but, you have worked so unbelievably hard. No one deserves this more than you do. Try and have a little faith in yourself ok? There is nothing you can’t achieve. You have something so magical within you. Working hard is good but, everyone has their limit and, if you keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t be healthy enough to achieve all of the amazing things I know you are capable of.” Your voice has dropped to an even lower volume as you continue rubbing Jimin’s back. He is looking up at you with intense focus but, you can tell he is on the verge of crashing.

“You promise? You promise you believe I can do this?” He whispers and, your heart shatters in pieces that someone whom you care so deeply for, is in so much pain.

“I don’t just believe Jimin, I know.” You whisper back before jerking your head to the other end of the couch. “Can you please try and sleep for me? When you wake up, we can go somewhere, or we can stay in,its up to you. Just try and rest of a while.” At your request, Jimin lets out a yawn, his lips pressing to your shoulder once more before he flops back onto the couch, still sniffling lightly.

You help him out of his shoes and his coat before grabbing a blanket and, literally tucking him in.

“Thank you y/n.” Jimin whispers, practically half asleep, his hand holding yours lightly.

“You don’t have to thank me, that’s what best friends are for. I’ve cried on your couch a few times too, remember.” You smile fondly as Jimin lets out a twinkling giggle, happy to see that he’s feeling somewhat better.

“I love you.” He whispers, his eyes beginning to shut.

You squeeze his hand lightly before replying.

“I love you too Jimin.”

Jimin drifts off a few moments later, his light snores filling your living room. Your heart feels achy as you reply the last few moments over in your head. You knew your words wouldn’t be enough to completely take away Jimin’s uncertainty but, you were so grateful that he came to you instead of suffering in silence. Jimin had a history of feeling this way right before a showcase. He had done something similar to this your freshman year before, winning and subsequently making history. It absolutely devastated you to see him hurting but, you meant everything you said. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Jimin was going to go far in life; you just hoped one day, he could see it for himself.

—————————————————————————————————-

“The dark and the ocean….I think maybe it’s time that we start tackling our fears one by one, what do you think?” You look over at Yoongi, who nods from behind his phone.

“Yeah, I think so too. I don’t know how we’d combine the dark and the ocean anyway.” His voice was slightly scratchier than normal but, when you had asked if he was sick, he told you that he had lost his voice at a concert he went to the night prior. For whatever reason, you didn’t believe him but, rather than prying, you opted to enjoy the sound of Yoongi’s raspy voice becoming even raspier.

“If we did, it would be terrifying and, I would probably die.” You state bluntly, causing Yoongi to scoff in disbelief, shaking his head at you.

“You’re so dramatic.” He chastises, smirking lightly, tapping away at his phone. You shrug, not bothering to disagree with him as you doodle on the corner of your paper. “Are you comfortable confronting this fear directly? I don’t know how you would imagine it, unless, you just imagine yourself in a dark room.”

The shudder that passes through your body was completely involuntary and, Yoongi notices it.

“You don’t have to, we can think of something else.” He assures, his almond shaped eyes, wrinkled slightly in concern. You shook your head insistently, putting on a brave face.

“No, its ok…I can do it. I won’t be alone so, it will be a little easier.” You force smile onto your mouth but, Yoongi isn’t buying it. Thankfully, he decides to accept your statement anyway.

“Does tonight work for you? I have a free Tuesday for once so, I figured we could do yours today and mine on Thursday.” Yoongi’s suggests, his demeanor returning to normal. You nod, leaning back in your chair, attempting to look casual but, your heart jumped slightly in your chest.

“Yeah, that’s fine, what time?” You needed to know how much time you had to straighten up because, you definitely left dirty dishes in the sink and, you were quite certain that you dropped a pair or two of clean underwear whilst running late this morning.

“Well, it doesn’t get dark until 7:30-8 so, maybe around then?” Yoongi cocks his head slightly, his eyes sleepy as usual. You had never had such a strong urge to tuck someone into bed and, kiss their forehead until you met Min Yoongi. That boy needs more sleep.

“I’m good with that yeah. Are we eating together or do you want to eat before you come?”

“I’ll bring something, I have a lot to make up for since somebody, decided to buy our tickets last week.” He gives you a pointed look, disapproval gracing his features. You laugh, shrugging shamelessly, looking up at him.

“I guess you better bring something good then.” You insist, smiling, nudging his desk with your foot.

————————————————————————————————–

It was that very conversation that led you to where you were now: belly full of That’s Amore’s pasta, apartment tidied up, and Yoongi glancing over at you curiously.

“What?” You giggle lightly, confused at his intense gaze before, he nods over to you.

“Why are you afraid of the dark?” He murmurs, his tone cautious but curious.

You bite your lip, as you feel your body grow slightly uncomfortable. Meeting Yoongi’s gaze, you attempt to sound as brave as possible before, answering his question.

“I…used to have really bad nightmares as a kid. I had them every night for almost two years.” You admit, your eyes moving to stare at the couch instead of continuing to look at Yoongi. “My parents finally took me to a doctor and they told them that I would eventually just grow out of it. They gave me something to help me sleep through the night and, over time, the dreams finally stopped but, I slept with my light on until I was like 14.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood, not really enjoying the serious tone of the conversation.

Yoongi nods, regarding you earnestly from the other end of the couch.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly and, you can tell that he means it. You smile over at him, brushing it off.

“No, its ok, it happened a long time ago. I’m just still not a huge fan of the dark.” You explain, finally meeting his gaze again.

“You don’t have to do this, you can just keep talking about it…I don’t want you to feel afraid.” He insists, his tone firm and certain.

You nod, your smile growing more genuine.

“I can do it. I think it will be good for me and, like I said, I won’t be alone so, I don’t think it will be too bad.” You’re lying. The dark terrified you but, logically, you understood that there was nothing dangerous about it. You know you can do this.

Yoongi nods but, you can tell that he’s uneasy, his movements cautious and hesitant as he looks around your apartment.

“Ok, do you want to start slow? We could just turn off the lights first; the streetlights shouldn’t make it too dark.” He assures you, nodding toward the window but, you shake your head at his suggestion.

“No, I think it’s better if we just do everything now. I think prolonging it will just make me more nervous.” Your voice is growing smaller and, once you catch that, you sit up straighter. As if, sitting up straighter would lessen the fear you felt. “Let’s do this.”

Yoongi nods and the two of you move to start closing the curtains and turning off the few lamps that you have on in your apartment. You both stand on opposite ends of your living room as Yoongi’s hand hovers over the main light.

“Are you ready?” He calls softly, his face littered with concern.

You nod, smiling tightly, bracing yourself for the darkness.

“You have to protect me if a shadow demon tries to eat me!” You insist, giggling, trying to lessen the tension as Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“There’s no such thing as shadow demons.” He counters, smirking before, he nods anyway. “But, yeah, I guess I’ll protect you if that happens.”

Your heart is picking up its pace in your chest as you attempt to pull a deep breath from your nose.

Yoongi looks at you pointedly and, before another question can pass his lips, you nod to the light.

“Go ahead. I’m good.” You assure him, putting on the bravest voice you can find.

There’s a click and then, darkness envelops your apartment. You could never have imagined that your apartment could get to this level of darkness. The room was pitch black, you held your hand out in front of your face and you saw nothing but a faint blob.

“Are you ok?” Yoongi calls softly from the other end of the room.

Another shaky breath passes your lips as you attempt to calm yourself.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m ok.” You assure him but, even you could tell that your tone wasn’t convincing. There’s a shuffling on the other end of the room that causes you to jump out of your skin. “What was that?”

“It’s just me; I’m trying to find my way to the couch.” Yoongi’s voice calms you and, you curse yourself for being so obviously afraid.

“Yeah, I should probably do that too. I don’t want to just stand here…vulnerable…where literally anything can attack me if it wanted to.” You muse casually and, this causes Yoongi to finally break out in his rickety laughter.

“Nothing is going to attack you, just come here and, be careful not to trip over anything. That’s the only real danger you need to worry about.” Yoongi’s voice is practically a whisper and, you use it to guide yourself to your sofa. You finally feel the familiar fabric and make your way around the arm of the couch before, tucking your body into one of the cushions. The heartbeat in your chest hasn’t lessened its pounding but, you feel slightly better that you’re not doing this alone.

“I made it.” You whisper but, Yoongi could already feel you sit down at the opposite end of the couch.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi whispers back to you and, you feel yourself relaxing slightly at the sound of his voice. He really should be doing ASMR in his free time. Your mouth opens to lie again but, you end up sighing in defeat.

“I’m scared.” It’s the first time either of you have uttered this phrase since beginning your project and, you grow uneasy as you wait for his response.

“That’s ok.” He assures and then he falls silent for a moment. “I know it’s difficult for you. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I’m ok right now; my eyes are starting to adjust.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and, you feel a familiar thickness in the air that seems to occur a lot when you and Yoongi are alone. You close your eyes for a moment, stifling your desire to mention it to him. He had made it very clear on the Ferris Wheel that he wasn’t interested in being with you that way… ‘right now.’

“You can…move closer to me, if you need to. I’m not sure if that will help but, you can try. I don’t mind.” Yoongi whispers and, his offer catches you completely off guard. Should you move closer to him?

Silently, you scoot your body down the length of the couch until you feel your shins meet Yoongi’s feet. He must have been sitting cross-legged on the couch and, now that you’re closer to him, you can make out his posture. He’s sitting with his legs crossed, his body turned to face the direction you were sitting, while his hands rested in his lap.

“Thank you.” You whisper, and you can sort of make out the faint smile ( :] ) on his lips.

“Is it any better?”

“Yeah, it is, actually, thanks.” You repeat your gratitude and you finally start to feel the anxiety subsiding from your chest. Yoongi was warm and, he smelt like berries and the ocean? An odd yet tantalizing combination that, in all honesty, made your stomach tighten. His hands are adorned with a few rings and your eyes squint in curiosity as you try to make out what they look like; regretting that you hadn’t checked them out when the lights were on.

“What are you trying to look at?” Yoongi’s whisper causes you to smile as you realize that his eyes were also adjusted to the darkness and, he was probably wondering why you were staring intently at his lap.

“Your rings.” You giggle, your head jerking their direction. At your answer, Yoongi’s fingers flutter lightly in response, his head turning down to look at them.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t wear these a lot but, my roommate Namjoon got them for me and, started giving me shit for not liking them. So, I made a point to wear them more.” He explains his tone one of fondness and annoyance. Another laugh passes your lips as you nod in understanding.

“They look nice. Namjoon has good taste.” You compliment, feeling far more comfortable.

“Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.” Yoongi jests but, you know he doesn’t mean what he says, always hiding behind a snarky comment. Before you can speak again, Yoongi holds one of his hands out to you. “You can look at them if you want.”

Your heart stalls a moment as you look at Yoongi’s out stretched hand. The hand that had been on your own lap comes up to bring Yoongi’s closer to your view. The rings were actually beautiful and, you were thankful that the tiniest amount of light had escaped through the curtains so you could properly see them. There were four of them each covered in silver, the engravings depicting the four elements: Earth, fire, water, and air. You smile as your fingers gently examine Yoongi’s rings (hand). His hands were one of your favorite things about him. They were nearly double the size of your own, blue and green veins pushed slightly against the surface, fingernails bitten out of what you could assume as nervousness. There is a light increase in your heart rate as you continue to examine Yoongi’s hand and, if he had noticed that you stopped looking at his rings, he wasn’t showing it. You tilt his hand up so, its perpendicular to your own, your fingertips only reaching the middle of his fingers, as you place your palm against his hand.

“Your hand is small.” Yoongi whispers but, this time, you detect a different tone from him that you can’t say you’ve ever heard before.

A small smile graces your mouth as you nod.

“Against yours it is.” The whisper that leaves your lips is almost in audible, your eyes find Yoongi’s and, you find him staring back at you, the faint streetlight illuminating his face. The two of you stare at each other as you feel Yoongi’s fingers lace with your own. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you lick your lips in attempt to compensate for the dryness in your mouth. Without warning, the two of you are leaning towards each other, your shaky breathing intertwining momentarily before, your lips press together. Yoongi audibly lets out a sigh of what literally sounds like relief as he mold his lips against yours. You rise up on your knees lightly, in an attempt to get closer to him, your free hand coming up to gently touch his face. The butterflies that had been taunting you for the past month erupt in your stomach, your heart racketing against your sternum. Yoongi’s hand that was interlaced with yours slips out of your grip and, settles on your waist instead, pulling you into his body. Your lips are beginning to move against one another and, you actually feel Yoongi’s heartbeat rattling against your hand. The thought of you having that effect on him, makes you clench between your thighs. Your body moves to make its way into his lap but, before you make it there, Yoongi is slowly pulling away. He seems reluctant to stop, his swollen lips still pecking against yours as he presses his forehead to your own.

“I don’t want to stop but, I think…”His breathing is too ragged for him to speak properly, and you press your lips to his cheek in an attempt to sooth him, even though, your breathing is just as bad. “We….should slow down….”

You nod in agreement but, relish in the fact that Yoongi is still holding you close to him, your body leaning into his chest.

“You’re right.” You whisper in return, your breath just as shaky as Yoongi maneuvers you so, that you’re tucked into the side of his body. Your hand rests on his chest and you smile as you feel his heart pummeling against the palm of your hand. The two of you lay there for a moment in complete silence, Yoongi’s fingers play with your own as you wait for the other to say something.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who breaks the silence, his raspy whisper penetrating the darkness around you.

“Are you still scared?” He whispers softly, his eyes finding yours.

You look up towards him, a soft smile on your lips.

“No.”

Yoongi smiles back at you and, you can’t help but notice how shy he’s being, his eyes softer than you have ever seen before.

“Good.”

Maybe, the dark wasn’t so bad after all.

453 notes · View notes

croatian-nt · 5 years

Text

To the beat of my heart

Summary: Dejan just wants to talk to Luka and apologize for being stupid enough to get a yellow. He gets more out of it than he planned

Pairings: Dejan Lovren/Luka Modrić

Word Count: 1952

Warnings: shouting, fighting in general actually, making out, heavily implied sex, some angst(not much I promise)

Notes: Okay so I needed to write a vent fic after the last match because I was pissed as hell so this happened despite me trying to finish another project xD. Big shout out to @lovren-la-vida-luka for editing this at the last moment. Andd that would be all, I hope y’all enjoy :D

Dejan took a deep breath, debating if he should knock on the door or just enter.

Fuck it, he is not gonna be happy to see me anyway.

And with that Dejan pushed the door open, revealing Luka lying on the bed. The scowl that was etched on his face turned into a glare when he saw Dejan entering.

Luka specifically told everyone he wants to be alone after the interview to the press. Not even Dalić dared to stop him when he stormed away, despite limping a bit. But Dejan was never good at listening to instructions.

"Get out."

Luka wasn't looking at him anymore, his gaze was focused somewhere about Dejan's shoulder, as if he was invisible.

"Sorry can't do. I am not letting you beat yourself up over this in the silence of the room."

Luka's eyes snapped to his, and Dejan felt breathless for a moment. How could someone look so beautiful while being so angry? Luka was forest fire and Dejan, a frozen animal, too caught up in the beauty of the destruction to realize he could get burnt.

"Who says I am beating myself up? Maybe I am here so I don't take it out on everyone and point each and every mistake they made."

Dejan swallowed, speechless at this reaction of the usually kind captain.

"Especially you. So get out before I start talking because I could talk all night." Luka's words were dipped in poison, obviously used to push him away.

Dejan crossed his arms across his chest and held Luka's gaze.

"Go on then. I can take your insults. I am still not letting you bottle everything up."

Luka clenched his jaw and sat up. Dejan was immediately by his side.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to get up you injured your leg-"

Luka got on his feet and, with a strength Dejan forgot he possessed, pushed him away. Dejan stumbled, his back hitting the wall roughly. He looked down at Luka, startled by the outburst.

"Why the fuck are you always so stubborn? Everyone tells you to be careful and not get a second yellow and you argue with a referee. I tell you to leave me alone and you walk into my room. Do you ever listen Lovren?!

They are standing chest to chest and Luka's eyes look like liquid gold under this light and they are burning. Dejan feels like his throat constricted and he knows, he knows Luka doesn't mean these things but it still stings.

Something in Luka's expression changes, his anger dims a bit and he takes a step back.

"Go away Dejan, before I say something I will really regret."

Dejan bites his lip as he debates if he should leave or… take a leap of faith. He goes for the latter.

He takes a step closer to Luka and gently tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Luka's hand shoots up and grabs his in a steel grip.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Dejan doesn't shy away from Luka's gaze and just leans a bit closer instead.

"Tell me you don't feel the same way I do. Tell me you didn't just bite your tongue because you'd rather bite it off than see me hurt. Tell me you really don’t want me here and I'll walk out of the door and we'll never mention this again."

Luka watches him for a few long, long seconds. And then just when Dejan is about to urge him to say something, Luka lets go of his hand and grabs his shirt instead, yanking it down, and their lips clash together almost painfully.

He pushes him back to the wall, not breaking the kiss and Dejan gasps. Somewhere in the process, Luka bit his lip and all Dejan can taste is the copperish taste of blood, and Luka. And he gets lost in the feeling of Luka kissing him, until, as abruptly as it started, the kiss ends.

Both of them are breathing heavily as they stare at each other, and it's hard to say which one of them is more shocked by Luka's decision.

"This is a bad idea." Luka says, looking away.

"Probably."

Dejan traces Luka's bottom lip with his thumb and Luka shivers.

"Then again, it seems like today is a day made for bad decisions."

Luka looks up to him, both amused and experated. He shakes his head a bit and sighs.

"Oh to hell with it."

And with that, Dejan is pulled into another bruising kiss and soon enough, Luka is tugging at his shirt. Dejan had to backtrack a bit there.

"Are you sure about this?"

Luka rolled his eyes as he tossed Dejan's shirt to the floor and leaned against his chest. He gently put his hand over Dejan's heart and blood rushed to Dejan's face as he realized how fast it was beating.

"Well you said today is the day for doing bad decisions and you are the stupidest thing in the room so..."

Dejan laughed, hiding his face in Luka's shoulder. "Well at least I was not stupid enough to ruin the moment."

"Oh, shut up," Luka said, kissing him again.

And Dejan really didn't talk for quite some time after that.

Luka was slowly tracing the tattoo on his arm with his fingertips and Dejan knew that could easily lull him to sleep. He was starting to feel the ache in his muscles from the game, now that the adrenaline wore off. However, they still needed to talk about this.

"So now, before you tell me this shouldn't have happened and that you are the captain and as such you should be objective, and kick me out-"

"I wasn't going to do that!" Luka interrupted, shooting him a glare.

Dejan raised his eyebrows.

"Oh fine!" Luka nervously tugged at his hair, "I thought about it, but we both know you'd be too stubborn to actually listen, so it's pointless isn't it?"

Dejan flashed him a grin and pulled him closer.

"Correct."

Luka huffed, pretending to be angry, which he ruined with affectionately kissing Dejan's jaw.

That is, however, before he turned serious, looking up at Dejan’s strong features with an expression with a fond sadness.

"I didn't mean those things I said earlier. I mean...you are an idiot for getting a yellow because of arguing but you didn't deserve me yelling at you the way I did. I’m sorry."

Dejan shrugged, carefully avoiding Luka's piercing gaze by playing with his hair.

"It's alright. I mean you weren't wrong with anything you said."

Luka sighed, shifting a bit away so he could catch Dejan's gaze. Dejan felt trapped, terrified of Luka reading through him and desperately wanting him to do so. Caught between those two clashing wishes, he couldn't look away.

"You know you are allowed to show you are hurt in front of me, right?"

Dejan forced a laugh, and rolled his eyes at Luka, who didn't look impressed in the slightest.

"Oh com'on Lukita! If someone is hurt here that's, you. I was so scared when that guy fouled you..."

"I didn't mean physically hurt. At least not only that." Luka interrupted his rambling, and Dejan lowered his gaze on his hands, fidgeting.

Luka didn't say anything for a moment, as if he was debating something. He leaned in and kissed Dejan again, but unlike their previous kisses, this one was slow, and comforting in a way.

When they pulled away, Luka had a thoughtful look on his face. Dejan really wasn't about to ask, because if silence stretched long enough, maybe Luka will drop the topic.

"I kind of knew that this," Luka gesticulated at the space between them, "would happen eventually."

Dejan stared at him for a moment, trying to understand where exactly Luka was going with this.

"I knew I had feelings for you and, while I like to think I would be able to say no if I thought that was for the best, the more time passed, the more I realized you were a weak spot for me."

Luka played with his hair, obviously nervous about telling him all this, but continued.

"And I know you don't like him but Sergio helped me deal with my feelings once I actually talked about them. Which is why I am telling you this. Because I trust you and I wish you'd trust me with talking to me too, even though I won't force you."

Dejan dropped his head onto Luka's shoulder, hiding his face in his hair. Luka let him have a moment, gently stroking the nape of his neck.

Maybe it was because of how perfect the moment was, or maybe the realization that if Dejan really didn't want to talk, Luka wouldn't force him to, but Dejan realized he also had something to say, and he was no longer afraid to say it.

"It's just that...I feel like I can never do the right thing in the moment where I need to make a split decision. I envy you with how you control your feelings and objectively look at everything but I can't do that and I'm just..."

Dejan ruffled his hair, searching for the right words. Luka put his hands over his and squeezed it in silent reassurance.

I'm just scared that one day I will cross the line of things that should never be done and I will be done for. And you will be done with me."

Dejan heard Luka's sharp intake of breath but he didn't look up. He wasn't ready to face Luka's eyes peering into his soul just yet.

But Luka was having none of that, and he lifted his chin before kissing him. His lips were insistent and he continued kissing him until they were both breathless.

When he finally did pull away he immediately caught Dejan's gaze, those amber eyes burning, burning down whatever remained of the wall Dejan had built when he first fell for the beautiful man in front of him. Suddenly, his face flushed as he realised he’d once again gotten a little too lost in those eyes, but the embarrassment was soon replaced by a warm contentment spreading through his chest into his stomach as he realised he never again had to worry about Luka noticing.

"I don't always control my feelings,” said Luka, breaking through Dejan’s train of thought.

“I wish it was that easy. And I admire how passionate you are about things you care about. So yes, maybe you are reckless sometimes, but", Luka put his hand over Dejan's heart, which picked up its beat, "that's because you care. Sometimes it may seem like too much but it's never a bad thing. Never. Okay?"

Dejan nodded, not finding words good enough to express how he felt. He wished the beating of his heart under Luka's palm could speak. If they did, they would never stop for as long as he lived, and that's precisely how long he would be thankful Luka existed and, by some weird twist of events, actually felt the same way.

It didn't feel realistic, being this lucky. And since Dejan couldn't speak to express it all, he did the next best thing. He kissed his lover again and hoped it would be enough.

If he was lucky enough to have Luka for the rest of his lifetime, maybe he’d eventually find the words he so desperately needed. Until then, he would just have to make sure Luka falls asleep to the beating of his heart and somehow gets at least a piece of message he wanted to give.

I love you. That would be enough for now.

Taglist:

@lovren-la-vida-luka

@mvsicbookfrxndom

@kjldrv

@igecko1320

@lovrenfc

@sad-forest

@roseszymczak

@snakesandcherries

@domo-no-domo-yes

@asensihoe

@mrsmodric

@lukamodrix

@zadarskabagudina

@tinymodric

@childsmokers

@buttlyfly

@flemishyugotalian

@living-lovren

@arduango

@winters-chiid

@modrickrama

@thelobster41

#croatia nt #luka modric #dejan lovren #long post

19 notes · View notes

manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Lights

I just saw your appreciation post now but thank you so much!

I thought really hard about what song would be best for a fic and settled on Lights by BTS with either Jimin, Yoongi or Namjoon!

I’ve been having a Hell of a time working at the movie theater and waiting for my laptop to get fixed so I can properly begin writing again and been stressing super hard about college and a kpop school I’ll be going to in my 2nd or 3rd semester but this song just really resonated me; as did your post. It really made me smile lovely thank you so much for the inclusion!

Your writing is always such a treat to read and Take My Hands Now will probably always be in my top fics. Love you and keep doing what you do best- being you! 😘 -Sheridan

—

A/N: @sevenincubistolemyheart thanks so much for sending this Sheridan! What kind of kpop school are you going to? I saw that you got your laptop back! I hope you get to start writing again and doing what makes you happy =) even if there is a lot of stress it will all be worth it one day~ fighting!

BTW it’s my first time writing a total supernatural au kind of thing, I hope it’s not too bad xD just posting the first draft coz I’m excited… will edit later kekek and so sorry the read more function is not working on my phone…

English lyrics taken from here

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word count: 2.6k approx

Genre: supernatural au; psychopomp/reaper!Jimin; part angst part romance; i would consider it a happy ending (y)

Warnings: mentions of death, references to suicide; all non-explicit though

—

You lay on your bed in the brightness of the morning sun that filtered in through the glass window etched into the slanted roof. This was the 154th Sunday you spent without him.

Your phone buzzes next to you, there was no point checking it anymore. The only calls or messages you received were spam anyway. You should probably get some breakfast, but you let yourself lie in bed for a little longer, making up the excuse that the sun rays were too warm to walk away from.

You tossed around and planted your face into the pillow, a gush of sourness running through the veins in your eyelids. Will he ever return to you?

♫ “Sunday, when I can’t answer any calls or texts I’m not in the mood for anything Though not very often, I feel sick of it I feel a little helpless right now” ♫

—

You walked down the long spiraling stairs and out of the antiquated front door. You took a few steps back before looking up, the whiteness of the roof reflected the sunlight and made the tower look like it was glowing.

“You are a lighthouse to me. But when I am not here, I wish you would be a lighthouse to whoever may need it”, his words resounded in the air. With that reminder, you trotted down the grayish path on top of the breakwater, heading towards the rocky coastline.

In the time he has not been around, you had saved 29 people, pulling them from the icy water, just like he had done for you.

♫ “But I still feel like I can save someone I hear your voice Within the noise, time stops We are connected by sound” ♫

—

Although it had been many years ago, that night remains vivid in your mind. You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see this world any more. Night times were the worst. In the darkness, the lights from each house, the light from each star, made each of them stand out more. Even as you were submerged in this darkness, the lights refracted through it. As if they were mocking you, the sole blackhole that did not allow brightness to exist.

But the magic of light is this - even when you closed your eyes, it finds a way in, it penetrates through and it reaches you.

“It’s not your time yet”, his voice was the most angelic. He has watched you for almost a year, month after month, and today he had been worried that it would be the last time.

“Who are you?”, you coughed, hair and clothes all soaked.

“Someone who is breaking the rules for you…”, he sits down next to you, the waves crashing into the rocks below.

♫ “When I close my eyes In the darkness, your light Lights the way for me We can walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

His name is Jimin, and he’s been around for a long time, longer than he could remember. His sole purpose was to guide the souls lost at sea to the afterlife. It was a harrowing job at first, but as time went by, he gradually became desensitised. But you made him feel again.

They only get to stay away from the sea one day in a month, and he had told you to wait for him in this lighthouse if you wanted to meet him again. This was his lighthouse, nobody else could enter, it helps him find the shore when he gets too tired or when everything becomes too disorienting. Even though it was unbelievable, even though you were somewhat afraid, you still waited and met him, that month, the next month, the month after. He was like the lighthouse keeping you away from hitting the rocks and drowning.

“Why did you save me that night?”, you leaned against his shoulders comfortably snuggled in his embrace as you both sat on the bed. He was looking at the night sky through the glass roof, beams of light pulsing rhythmically towards the sea.

“Because your soul was too bright”, he answered and you wondered if it was ironic since you had felt like your soul was hurting so much. He kisses your forehead gently, “thank you for being here, for being my lighthouse. Now I see the light so much better out at sea, because I know you are here, waiting for me.”

♫ “You’re my light you’re my light Always shine into my heart You’re my light you’re my light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me” ♫

—

He tirelessly went back to sea the day after, flying with wings wider than an albatross. His wings were clipped on one side, and you had once asked him why. He told you there are souls who are kind, there are souls who are hurting, and there are souls who are evil. He was never to judge any of them, he only had to take them to the afterlife. But even then, he was often hurt by them. Even when people die, their souls don’t change much it seems.

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?”, you hugged him before he left again, wanting to hold on to him just a little longer.

“Love should never be wrong, Y/N. If it can be wrong then I guess I will be the first to be punished…”, he replied with a sadness in his eyes. His slender fingers pushes your hair away from your eyes, the sea breeze chilly, but his embrace always warm.

♫ “All the angels who know pain Flying on damaged wings through the night Every time I’m thinking about love Every time I’m thinking about love” ♫

—

What kind of punishment does a person in love deserve? 154 Sundays of loneliness? 154 weeks of longing? And counting…

You walked around shore the whole day, scanning around to see if there was anyone nearby. You put on your headphones as the sky turned darker and the first song which came on was too bright, so you skipped it and the next one too, until you reached one that was sorrowful enough.

♫ “I don’t wanna listen to just happy songs I’ll face my loneliness, color my life Losing and gaining, but I’m still searching for something today” ♫

—

Why was this song so sorrowful? Was it the lyrics? Was it the tune? Or was it because he once sang it to you in his soft mellow voice?

The things you used to think about flood back to you again. They nibble at your soul again. The darker the night grew, the darker the voices became. You crouched down, breathes short and fast, hands clutching the part of your chest where your heart rests beneath. It hurts so much, how do people endure such darkness?

“I’m your light”, the lyrics of the song chants, and it was as if you could hear his voice singing it to you. You cannot give up. He said he can see the light better because you were there, you wouldn’t want him to lose the only light he has in the darkness either.

♫ “Yeah I believe that things will change No one is perfect Even this moment has its own meaning And we are connected by sound” ♫

—

You continued walking down the coastline, that was when you see her struggling in the water. You ran into the freezing water without a second thought as she loses consciousness. Diving into the sea, you looked around for her but the water was pitch dark around you and there was an intense fear within you.

The salty seawater was starting to sting your eyes and you closed them momentarily. When you opened your eyes again, one of the rotating beams from the tower flashes right into the water further away from you and finally you spot her floating there.

You swam across as fast as you could and dragged her back to shore.

♫ “When you close your eyes In the darkness, my light Lights the way for you Let’s walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

You wrapped her in the blankets and let her take the bed. She was shivering the whole night but you nursed her well with hot water bottles, warm milk and medicine.

As she finally went to sleep, you look up at the flashing light, thanking it. For keeping you alive, for keeping her alive.

♫ “I’m your light I’m your light Always shine into your heart I’m your light I’m your light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me”♫

—

You didn’t sleep at all that night. This was the 30th person you saved. Some of them went in by accident, some of them regretted that they attempted, some of them unrepentant and you could only wonder if they will look for other ways.

But you learnt one thing. You weren’t alone after all, life wasn’t only mean to you. If darkness was a diseases, then light is probably the cure. The question was how do we find our cure? For each person it must be a different path, or perhaps, the cure finds us sometimes.

You thought you had found yours, but you never knew that it was so elusive. Was he afraid to come back because you had fallen in love with him? He belongs, quite literally, in an entirely different world from you after all. The flashes of light overhead reminded you of why you were here.

If not for him, you would have left this world a long time ago, without ever experiencing what it was like to be loved. Until the day he says it to you himself, until the day he tells you to leave, you will willingly stay here as his lighthouse.

♫ “I never thought there’d be a sleepless night Turns out they weren’t lies And it made me get stronger What is love? If there’s an answer, I wanna know right now I’m breaking down I can see there’s light inside” ♫

—

Her name was Lucy, she lost her job and her boyfriend left her for another girl.

“They always say we decide what it means to be happy”, she sobbed as you were making her breakfast the next morning, “and I had decided. It was my dream to marry him and have a family… and I was happy just being the team manager at my company. I had decided what makes me happy. But then… what’s the point… it’s all lies…”

Sometimes when we settle down in happiness, life throws a curve ball and wrecks everything. “These are just growing pains”, “everything will pass”, “you will find happiness in other things”, you were often consoled in this way too.

But you knew better than that, some things are just irreplaceable.

“Hold it in your heart then, the darkness that is the happiness taken away from you”, you sat opposite her, handing her a plate of toast.

“If you can’t let it go then keep it there. The more darkness you hold, the more precious you will find the light to be”, you continued.

The people who lost the most are also the ones who treasure what they have the most.

♫ “Dawn will come to the darkest of nights Overcome, even the future We won’t stop from now on Decide for yourself what it means to be happy Every day, take a step to grow up” ♫

—

A week passes and Lucy stayed with you. You two would walk along the shore every day, she even tried fishing one day, although she only ended up getting angry that none of the fishes were taking her bait.

“Are you waiting for someone here?”, she asks you suddenly over dinner.

“No… I just stay here alone”

“I know what it’s like to be waiting for someone you love. You don’t have to hide it… I can sense it whenever you look out at the sea. I hope he comes back soon”, her eyes looked straight into yours, just like a torch shining right in.

♫ “But it’s okay sometimes To show weakness It’s okay to be you Don’t lie to yourself any more Everything connects by sound” ♫

—

“I think it’s time for me to leave, I should go now”, Lucy beams at you and waved.

You smiled back at her and told her to be careful on her way.

“If you are going to keep staying here, maybe you should fix the light…”, she suggests candidly.

“What do you mean? The light is not spoilt, don’t you see it flashing every night?”, you frowned in befuddlement.

“Really? I thought it wasn’t working, I didn’t see anything at all”, she became even more puzzled and you grew increasingly concerned.

♫ “When I close my eyes In the darkness, your light Lights the way for me We can walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

You stood at the junction where the breakwater meets the shore. The sun was setting, and on cue, the lights flashes from the roof of the white tower. Lucy couldn’t see the lights? Why? You felt a chill down your spine and looked around.

The air was as still as the impending night but you spotted a man standing halfway on the breakwater. How? You didn’t see anyone walking down the breakwater and you are standing right here at the entrance.

“Sir, can I help you?”, you walked up to the man who looked rather aged.

He chuckles softly, the sounds rolling in his chest, before saying, “Sometimes it is the other person that needs help. Maybe I could help you with something?”

You were so confused but you decided what’s the harm of just asking him one question first, “Hmmm… do you perhaps see the lights from this lighthouse?”

“Do you?”, he asks cryptically.

“I do… I see it every night”, you answered.

“And what do you think the lights mean?”

You did not answer, and he smiles knowingly at you.

“So long as the lights keep flashing, it means that he is alive. Don’t worry about that, just keep doing what you do now and he will come back”, he discloses.

“Who- wait… you mean… are you talking about Jimin?”, your eyes widen. “Do you know him? Where is he now? Tell me please…”, you begged him.

“You can’t go to where he is now… he is receiving his punishment, just like you are”, he answers.

“What for? I… is it because of me?”, you voice began to shake.

“It is because of you… he should have sent you on, but he broke the rules. Now he is being punished. So, all the more, keep his post well and wait for him. That’s all I’m here to say”, he casually instructed you.

“What am I supposed to do? How long will he take to come back? What if I can’t wait until then? And I can’t possibly do what he does…”, you quibbled, reminding him of your mortal limitations.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to? You have already been doing a little of his job for a while now”, he looked up at the lighthouse, “… and why do you think you can see the light but other people can’t?”

♫“You’re my light you’re my light Always shine into my heart You’re my light you’re my light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me” ♫

—

You still had no idea when Jimin would come back. But you will wait for him, so long as the light flashes every night.

And now you understand, you were not a light that was saving lives, you were only saving souls.

♫“How far apart we are Your light shines on me”♫

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