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#but yeah anyway like i said still thought id give the update since it's been a Saga in my life for p much all of it
ozlices · 2 years
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ya bitch finally got prescribed sleep medication everybody clap but also send me "hope it works!" vibes/energy
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wonlouvre · 3 years
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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: child trafficking, child labor
a/n: just a disclaimer, i am not that well-versed when it comes to investigations and trial procedures at the court. please do correct me i make a mistake. i hope you enjoy this new part! i think we have about three or four chapters left. ANGST is on the next part :’(
seven: if you can’t believe | masterlist
“On April xx, 20xx, at approximately 10:30 in the morning, two unidentified males entered and held hostage the Emergency Room of the Royal Hospital. The nurse in charge of the information desk said that the two males approached the desk and asked if there were two boys (their identities are yet to be confirmed) admitted to the hospital. They claimed that they’re their guardians and wish to have them discharged and transferred to a different hospital. Based on their description, the nurse confirmed that there were two boys who came to the hospital earlier in the morning. However, the nurse informed them that they are not cleared to be discharged yet as per doctor’s orders and if they wish to discuss with the doctor-in-charge, they can. They only need to present IDs or any documentation to prove that they are indeed the guardian.
They did present IDs however, it was not valid and accepted by the hospital. The two males started demanding to see the two boys and insisted that they will recognize who they were. At that point, the nurse said the two males’ were beginning to raise their voices. The nurse asked them to calm down and wait patiently for the doctor-in-charge to arrive. That’s when the two males pulled out handguns and threateningly pointed it at the nurse.
The Royal Hospital’s security was alerted and immediately called the Royal Police. The hospital’s security was able to distract the two suspects until one of the police officers fired a shot. Fortunately, no hospital staff and patients were harmed. It is yet to be identified how the armed suspects were able to enter the hospital undetected. 
The Royal Police cannot release the names of the suspects and any other details as the investigation is still ongoing. However, we are looking at the direction that this could possibly be a  case of child trafficking and the two suspects are perpetrators. 
Please be rest assured that we are committed to solve this case and hold everyone involved accountable. We ask the general public to only believe verified information and wait for the official statements that the Royal Police will release accordingly.
Thank you for your understanding.”
You’re both crestfallen and angry. This paper would probably rip apart from the way your hand is deathly gripping it. It’s never easy to read and hear about crimes committed against innocent people. It’s never easy because they don’t deserve to go through the torment, harm and trauma. You wish you could avoid it, but it would be wrong and unfair to the victims. So no matter how heartbreaking or uncomfortable it is, you read and you listen because you have to be aware of it. You have to know and not turn a blind eye because they deserve to be heard and fought for. 
This black and white statement of the Royal Police is nothing but horrible. How did the kingdom let this pass? For a kingdom that’s so proud of its enforcement of strict laws, how did this crime happen right under its nose? 
It weighs on your heart and ever since you’ve taken hold of this piece of paper, you don’t know how to continue on with the day anymore. You lean your head against the backrest and stare up the ceiling. You breathe in and breathe out, getting yourself together to think, to function.  
Something is telling you that there is more to this hostage taking at the hospital and this case of child trafficking. And you desperately need to know. You’re already aware that the authorized and concerned people are doing their job already, but why is it drawing your attention? 
You release an exasperated sigh and massage your right brow. It’s been twitching due to the boiling anger inside you and you just want it to stop. The only way for that to happen is to find answers. Picking up your phone among the pile of papers, you dial the number of the person you’re sure that can give you any information, big or small. 
First ring. Second ring. Thi---, “Your Highness.”
You’re quick to your feet the moment he answered. “Hey Seungkwan. How have you been?”
Boo Seungkwan is the man to call. A persistent and assertive prosecutor and person in general. Definitely one of the brightest classmates and lawyers you have ever met. It’s no surprise that he’s hired by the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office as a prosecutor. He knows what he’s doing and more than doing, he knows how to fight to the end.
He actually wanted you to join together and you considered the offer. However, due to your position in the kingdom, you realized that practicing in private is more suitable for you.
“Well,” he says and pauses, “I have been better. How about you, Your Highness?”
“You know that you can call me Y/N, right?” You remind him, offering a smile even though he won’t be able to see it. “We went to law school and passed the exams together.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, not a big fan of throwbacks. “To what do I owe this phone call anyway?”
“About the recent statement of the Royal Police, is there anything you’d be willing to share with me?” You requested and faced the window that’s overlooking the city. 
You hear him chuckle on the other line. “I knew you���d ask. You do know that I’m risking my job as a prosecutor because I can’t say no to you right?”
“Is it something… big?” You ask nervously, biting the insides of your cheek.
A beat of silence passes and you can tell it is without having him say it. You think your heart is going to explode anytime soon.
“Big or not, it’s a case and a crime,” he retorts. “But this is something that Their Majesties need to brace themselves for,” he continues, warning laced on his voice. “It can shake the cabinet as well because we can tell that one, and if not, some of them are involved.”
There it is. The cold hard truth. There was nothing else to say. It’s more than obvious that the kingdom’s cabinet has been compromised and it will blow right at your family’s faces. You don’t even need to doubt it. But still, your blood runs cold at the thought. 
“Thank you Seungkwan,” you say and breathe out a defeated sigh. “Let’s meet for coffee some other time.”
You hear him say “anytime” and then end the call. 
You toss your phone back on the table and cross your arms as if you’re trying to hug yourself. Your eyes are out of focus and your mind has questions that need answers. This case is not even about protecting your family’s reputation anymore. It’s about your family protecting its people, its children, from this. 
You’ll probably never forgive yourself if you and the rest of your family have failed to do its promise and duty. 
“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon knocks on the wooden door and calls for you, pulling you back to the ground. “Are you ready to go?”
You frown and tilt your head to the side, confused. You don’t remember having errands outside the office today. 
Jeongyeon notices your confusion and says, “Your monthly checkup is today.”
Oh. 
“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind,” you say and quickly gather your things so that you can leave now. “Thank you, Jeongyeon.”
She nods, understanding what you meant. She keeps the door open and waits for you to pass through. 
What the hell am I going to do? You ask yourself. A million thoughts has started running inside your mind from reading the statement up to finding out that this case could potentially be a crime syndicate. A crime syndicate that the Royal Family failed to prevent. Every day, there are crimes that get tried and solved in this kingdom. But for this particular crime, it doesn’t happen every day and it shouldn’t be in the first place. But, your kingdom must have grown complacent because here it is, a ticking time bomb that will explode anytime soon.
How did this happen and who allowed this to happen?
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“Your stress levels are quite high compared to your previous check-up, Your Highness.” The doctor gives you a knowing smile after reading the results of your tests today. 
“It’s because of work,” you make an excuse and return his smile with a sheepish one while scratching the back of your neck. “I think.”
The doctor tried to muffle his laughter, but you can hear him snicker nonetheless. He just nods and mutters an, “alright,” and proceeds to write down the results and updates of this consultation. 
“Although there is nothing to be concerned about, I still advise you to take things slow,” he once again points out the reminder that he gave from the first time you got admitted. “Remember, I’ll never get tired of saying it.”
You nod and purse your lips in a smile. “I promise I’ll try.”
He raises his eyebrows at your answer, but lets it go in the end. 
“I think we are good,” he says and leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “Let’s go back to your yearly check-up, like the usual.”
“Thank you for your time.” You stand up and reach your hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you next year, then.”
The doctor replies with his smile still intact, “I will be here.”
You think about taking the rest of the afternoon off and just go back to your apartment. You suddenly don’t feel so good and present, for lack of a better word. You just want to think alone, away from any distractions. 
On your way out to the door, you pull your phone out from your bag to call Jeongyeon. This floor of the hospital is private and reserved only for your family. It’s something you’re not proud of and you should probably talk to Their Majesties about it. You sigh and hold your phone to your ear as you proceed to the elevator. You're only a few steps away when a familiar voice makes you stop.
“Hey.”
You jump in surprise, almost dropping your phone and bag. You turn around and you’re not so surprised anymore to see a grinning Wonwoo with hands inside the pockets of his white coat. With a roll of your eyes, you finally relaxed your tensed shoulders and walked towards him.
He meets you halfway and holds his hand out. You happily take it, making it easy for him to tug you close to his chest, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his around your waist. Just like that, his breath against your skin made all your worries vanish.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, distancing from him but not letting go. 
“I knew that you’d be here,” he answers, keeping his hold on your arms. “Had to see you.”
You scoff and give his shoulder a light shove. “Shut up. We were inseparable until our last day at your hometown and yet you still want to see me. Aren’t you sick and tired of my face yet?”
He pinches your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose. “Of course not.”
“Well, I’m leaving,” you announce and let go of him, reluctantly (as always). “You should probably get back to work.”
Wonwoo doesn’t let you move any further and drags his hand from your arm to your hand, swaying it from side to side as he whines out, “But, I’m on my break. Can’t you stay a little longer?”
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You don’t really give in easily and it takes a lot of persuasion before you actually do. Jeongyeon can’t even convince you to stop going home late. But with just one request and pleading eyes, Wonwoo has you standing inside his office. 
It’s spacious, but a tad bit messy. There is lots of paper. In fact mountains of them, which you are very familiar with already. A wall of books is on one side of the room while three respective desks are on the other side. There’s a window, which is good, you can see some natural lighting. And of course, a small pantry for coffee and snacks. 
Wonwoo offered his chair for you to sit on as he prepared you something to drink. You still look around and try to keep yourself occupied. Your eyes trail on his desk eventually and you can’t help but smile. If every corner of this room is in disarray, Wonwoo’s desk seems to be the only area that is not. There’s nothing much on it except for a jar of pens, pencils and highlighters, a notepad and some bookmarked books. 
“You’ve met Soonyoung, right?” He asks, coming back with  two warm cups. Coffee for him and tea for you. “I share this office with him and another doctor.”
You nod and take a quick sip. You noticed that it’s almost lunch time on the clock above the door and wondered, “Is this all you’re going to have for lunch?”
“I had some cheeseburger earlier this morning, so I’m good,” he answers and leans against the edge of the desk. “How about you? Are you hungry?”
You smile and shake your head no. 
Then, it got quiet. 
It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you think Wonwoo can sense something else by the way his eyebrows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something more. He sips on his coffee one more time before placing the cup down on the table. Afterwards, he takes matters into his own hands and swivels the chair you're sitting on by the armrest towards him, catching you off guard.
His actions almost made you drop your drink and you thought for a moment if you should punch him again. “What are you doing?”
Wonwoo just gives you a mischievous smirk before leaning down to kiss your lips. Your eyes dilate in surprise while the rest of your body freezes. You’re just thankful you’re already sat on the chair, otherwise your legs would give up and you’d fall. When you don’t resist, his kiss deepens, demanding. But it didn’t go any further than a few more pecks here and there. You let him be until he decides to pull away, but not without giving one last long smooch. 
“What was that for?” You ask, suddenly shy. 
Wonwoo just nonchalantly shrugs. “Just wanted to kiss you.”
“You startled me!” You hiss and slap his arm.
Wonwoo has started to take pleasure in seeing you all flustered and shy. He finds it cute and he’ll take every chance he gets just to see it. But he knows there’s something bothering you and he’s hoping you give him the chance to hear you out.
“Talk to me,” he says while crouching, almost sitting down on the floor to meet your height. “What’s on that brilliant head of yours?”
You roll your eyes at his choice of words but give in nonetheless, “It’s the hostage that took place previously. There’s a new update about it.”
Wonwoo exhales and moves to massage your thighs. “I read about it briefly earlier.”
You nod and let the silence engulf the two of you once again. 
“Listen, the kids they we’re talk---”
“Wonwoo!”
You jump when the door of the office suddenly bolts open with two unfamiliar boys dressed in hospital gowns running inside. They’re quickly followed by a panting Soonyoung who gives the two of you an apologetic smile. Wonwoo immediately stands up as they excitedly dash towards him while chanting his name. 
“We heard you were on a break, can we play now? Please?” The little one, which you assumed was the youngest, pleads and hops in the hopes of Wonwoo carrying him. The other one, who’s much taller, does the same but he’s only clinging to his arms.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, Your Highness,” Soonyoung says (you’re sure he’s teasing) and gives you a salute. “These boys never get tired and I have no idea how.”
You stand up from the chair too and try to get a good look on the boy’s faces, but you couldn’t because their attention is only on Wonwoo. 
“We’ll play, alright?” Wonwoo tries to calm them down.”But I want you to meet someone special first.”
Your heart skips a beat meanwhile Soonyoung’s jaw drops in a silent squeal. 
“They were the kids from the statement,” Wonwoo warrily says while making the boys face you. 
Statement?
Your heart skipped one moment and the next it dropped to your stomach. You didn’t expect it to be them. You really hoped it wasn’t them. You don’t even know how sure you are that it’s them. But when you finally meet their eyes, these boys don’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore.
It’s them.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly concerned by the sudden downcast of your face. 
“Wonwoo...” you weakly whisper. 
They’re one of the children adopted from the orphanage.
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“Can you ask the orphanage if they can give us a copy of photographs displayed at their gallery?” 
A phone call has never felt so dreadful. You can’t help but bite your nails as you listen to Jeongyeon adhere to your request. A lump has already formed on your throat and you don’t even know how you’re going to swallow it. 
You slide your phone back to your pocket when Jeongyeon said she’d get back to you shortly. You turn around from where you were standing and see Wonwoo and Soonyoung playing with the two boys. It’s bittersweet. For one, you’re glad they are free and happy and on the other hand, it doesn’t sit right why they have to go through terrible and unimaginable things just so that they can be.
And it doesn’t help that it all happened here. 
Wonwoo told you how they got to know them and how he had asked the hospital to keep them here in the meantime, in coordination with Social Services of course. He didn’t need the hostage taking or the police’s statement to know what’s going on because his guts already told him the moment he saw the state of the boys. But then again, what happened only confirmed what he feared the most. 
Wonwoo deviates his attention to you and notices your lost gaze. By the looks of it, he’s aware that this is bothering you. He gives Sam’s hair a ruffle before standing up and walking to where you are.
“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching his hand out to softly squeeze your arm.
“Yeah,” you affirm, but the palm against your forehead doesn’t seem to agree. “I just… I can’t believe this.”
“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe your distress with his hand cradling your face. “I mean, it’s not. But, it’s not your fault.”
Why does it feel like it is? 
You couldn’t ask him that out loud so you just give him a nod instead. Wonwoo knows you’re hesitant to believe him and he doesn’t like it. He takes your hands and squeezes them. 
“Look at me,” he commands and when you don't, he lifts your chin up himself. “I’m confident this will be solved in no time. Have faith in your people and yourself, hmm? ”
“Okay,” you answer and that makes Wonwoo smile. 
Okay. You’re going to stop wallowing in your own uncertainty. You draw your eyes back at the boys and at this moment, you promised that punishment will be inflicted to everyone responsible for their suffering. 
No matter what it takes.
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carlyraejcpsen · 3 years
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alright, i’ve tried to keep quiet because i truly believe in karma and wanted this rp to close through the admin’s own actions and not give them any opportunities to blame it on me instead. it also felt like beating a dead horse, because i was sure they’d close the rp after losing a huge proportion of their active members and the majority of their diversity. however, after seeing multiple people sharing their experiences today, they are still posting promo posts and starting their event. so yeah, here’s my experience with @thevillagerp​​
NOTE: i no longer have screenshots from my conversations with the admins, as i blocked them when i left the rp for the sake of my own mental health, but i did save the text in my drafts, so the messages below are copy pasted. i have not edited them in any way. They also deleted my original anonymous messages off of their blog.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: racism, very vague allusions to homophobia and transphobia
so i was a member of this roleplay for around two months. during my time there, it was startlingly obvious that white fcs were preferred and prioritised, both from the fact that they got more plots and interactions in general and from the fact that admins never promoted diversity on the main. even now, they repeatedly say they “would still love to receive some more male and non-binary apps” while ignoring that they currently have a ratio of 8 fcs of colour to 24 white fcs. their diversity rules at the time were that 1/3 of a mun’s characters had to be played by an fcoc. so people could easily just play one or two white characters.
a while ago, i sent an anonymous message to the main asking if they had considered perhaps changing this rule to be 2/3 characters instead of 1/3, since there were so few muses of colour in the roleplay (as i said before, they’ve since deleted this from their blog so i cannot provide a screenshot). they responded that they had been thinking of upping the character limit to four instead of three, with a rule that 2/4 must be played by an fcoc. i gave them the benefit of the doubt and the time to enact this change, but nothing happened.
so a few weeks later, i sent them this message on anonymous:
I was wondering if you had thought any more about the diversity rules here? I know you said before that you were considering increasing the character limit, but I noticed that hasn’t happened and I wanted to know if that was a change we’re going to see or if you would consider changing the rules in another way? I’m really disheartened by the lack of diversity in the roleplay
at the time there were 18 characters of colour out of a total of over 60. they responded (again, i’m sorry i don’t have the actual wording since they’ve deleted the messages) that they had thought about it and decided against upping the character limit, but instead would be having a weekly “poc acceptance day,” where they would only be accepting apps with fcs of colour. they also said they were doing this “now that the waitlist was mostly cleared,” which meant that the rp was mostly at capacity anyway, so they needed to look more at how to encourage their existing members to promote diversity, since there weren’t spaces open for new people to bring them in.
i responded with another anon expressing my disappointment and pointing out that they had done more to prevent having too many celebrity characters than too few muses of colour, as at the time they had a ban on celebrity muses. i wouldn’t usually suggest a ban on certain fcs, but as it was something they had done for celebrity characters, then i supposed it was a reasonable option.
they didn’t even respond to this message and instead posted on the main asking me to come off anon to discuss it. so i did, and i sent them the following dm:
i didn’t want to come off anon because i honestly feel really ostracised in this group and didn’t want to make it worse, but i don’t want to drop this issue and you aren’t comfortable addressing it publicly so here we are i guess. like i said in my previous message, i really don’t see how a “poc acceptance day” is going to make anywhere near enough of a difference. people will just wait for the opportunity to play their white characters. there are only 18 characters of colour in a roleplay with over 60 characters. that’s less than a third, which is obviously concerning. what’s even more concerning for me is that these characters are more often than not overlooked. i am often ghosted when plotting, or people don’t even reach out at all when i like plotting calls or intro posts. and then i have to watch characters like leo almost exclusively interact with white women (i’m sure that’s not the only example, but it is the first that comes to mind as he is one of the more active characters).
so this issue goes so much deeper than there just not being adequate representation in the rp. i really tried to help, i suggested making it a rule that 2/3 characters need to be poc in my original ask and you mentioned upping the character limit in response. i was worried that my concerns were being brushed aside, but i waited a while to give you the benefit of the doubt and the space to discuss the issue. so you can understand why it was really upsetting today to learn that the one thing you suggested was dropped and instead replaced with something that is barely scratching the surface of the problem. and i don’t know if it was your intention, but by saying that you were waiting for the waitlist to clear, it comes across as not wanting to receive any backlash from people who would want to join with only white characters. and even if people did want to join with faceclaims of colour, they can’t because the waitlist is cleared. like i suggested, you could change the rules so that 2 out of 3 characters must be people of colour. or, as was your proposed idea, up the character limit to four. you could also put a temporary ban on white faceclaims until the ratio evens out. as i mentioned, it’s really distressing that this was something you were willing to do for celebrity characters, but not to aid diversity.
i also just want to make it clear that these have been the only anons i’ve sent, i know you’ve been getting other ones, but those weren’t from me!!
( for context, they were receiving anons from someone else claiming that they felt left out in the rp ).
i had hoped that coming off anon would show them that this was a very real issue which was affecting their members, as well as giving them a space to discuss it privately instead of on the main. they responded with:
Hi Em, thank you for coming forward. We really, really appreciate it and we understand it’s not an easy thing to do. We also appreciate you flying the flag for diversity so strongly. We can always strive to be better, we are on the same page with you here.
Let us just explain our decision making. Firstly, just to address the waitlist, that was certainly not at all our intention when we brought it up. It was a logistical decision with 5+ applicants having already waited a week for acceptance and aware of their position on a waitlist.
When we decided against upping the character limit (and therefore the 2/4 POC character rule), we thought a POC acceptance day could be a good alternative course of action. In our eyes, this was something that would probably bring more POC characters to the group than the 2/4 rule because we knew there weren’t going to be many muns taking up an additional fourth character. This was a rule we’ve seen other groups enjoy success from so we wanted to try it out here. Plus, we think a day that explicitly highlights diversity every week would bring the message to the forefront of everyone’s minds. As we said, we’re going to monitor this over the next couple of weeks to see if it brings any improvement because we’d really like to have it as an ongoing rule.
The non-POC ban is actually a measure we’ve spoken about too and we are considering putting one in place should this fail. Thank you for raising your concerns, know that we’ve taken them very seriously and we hope that you’ll trust our judgement in trying this rule out first to see where it leads.
first of all, i don’t think i even have to mention the wording of “flying the flag for diversity.” but the real crux of the issue here is that they supposedly wanted me to come off anon to discuss the issue, but instead just explained their idea further and didn’t take anything i said on board. they didn’t even say a single word about how i told them i felt ostracised and regularly got ignored. i knew from speaking to other muns in the rp who played muses of colour (and just from looking at the dash) that they felt the same way too, but of course was only speaking from my own experience.
i thought long and hard about how to respond to this, as i was so disheartened by their unwillingness to listen to their members and the fact that they didn’t care that i felt left out. it felt like they had asked me to come off anon just so they knew who was messaging them and therefore put a target on my back, so honestly the thought of being on the dash or talking to the admins made me incredibly anxious. before i had a chance, however, they responded again with:
Hi hun, we’ve continued discussing this issue over the last couple of days and we wanted to let you know that we’ve decided to put in place a non-POC ban instead. Thank you again for holding a mirror up to the group. We do hope that this will recorrect the balance.
so i waited to see how things would play out. they posted about this new ban here and pinned the post to the top of the main:
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[ IMAGE ID: a screenshot from thevillagehq of an admin update, which reads: in the interest of keeping the village a diverse space, we are currently only accepting applications for POCs. please note that any apps or reserves submitted to us for faceclaims that are not POCs will be deleted. we will lift this rule once we see fit.
thank you for your understanding and your efforts in making this group a brighter, more inclusive and diverse place for all. /END ID ]
this rule remained in place for around two weeks, during which time they made almost no effort to promote it. the above post was pinned to the main page, but that was the only mention of the ban anywhere on their page, they didn’t update the rules page or even put a note on the application page about it. during this two week period, the admins posted 10 promo posts, none of which suggested fcs or even mentioned the ban or diversity at all. the ban was then lifted suddenly when the pinned post was removed and the admins just went back to accepting apps with white fcs. the ratio had only evened out in those two weeks (from 18 out of 65 to 24/50) because of people going inactive or leaving, and there was nothing put into place to continue to promote diversity after the lift of the ban. in the three days after the ban was lifted, the admins posted over 10 promo posts, the same amount they had posted during the entirety of the ban. it was clear that they had no intention of actually making changes in their rp and had only done so because i refused to drop the issue.
again, i thought a lot about what i wanted to message them. i knew at this point that they didn’t want to make any real changes, but i still felt like i had to make it clear to them how disappointing their actions were. once again, i was messaged before i even had a chance, this time for bubbling.
as you can see in the above correspondence, i had told the admins point blank that i felt left out and ignored in the rp because of the characters i played (aubrey plaza, mj rodriguez and keiynan lonsdale fcs. all of my characters were queer and used either she/they or they/them pronouns). as a general rule, the only people who wanted to write with me and have interesting plots with me were people who played other muses of colour. the rp had a rule that you must reply to 3+ muns on every character, which i had been doing. i had only been back from my hiatus for a few days at this point and had responded to 6 different open starters the day prior. their message to me read:
Hi hun. There’s something we wanted to address to you directly. It’s been expressed to us by multiple members during these last few weeks that they have felt excluded by your character within the group, especially when it comes to the friend bubble that has formed between Mars, Bowie, Luvena, Asher and others. 
While we encourage the development of friendships and trust that this isn’t intentional, we have a zero tolerance for bubble roleplaying at The Village. We are aware that our three mun activity rules have been met by all parties involved, however, bubbling is usually a little more nuanced than that and it seems it has unfortunately begun to create a bit of a divide within the group. 
We have already issued individual warnings to a few people within the bubble, however with multiple members still expressing their concerns to us, we decided it would be better to address the group as a whole. We hope that by pointing this out to you, you will try and branch out to your fellow members a little more from now on - and try and be a little more inclusive when it comes to everyone else in the group. 
We take such matters very seriously as admins, and while we hope it won’t have to come to this, there will be consequential steps taken should we not see any changes in your interactions in the weeks to come.
as you can imagine, i was incredibly upset to receive this message after already telling them i didn’t get plots from many of their members and they had done nothing. even people who i had previously messaged continued to only write with the same few white characters. i don’t deny that we definitely had a friendship group between our characters, but there were multiple people in that roleplay, including the admins, who only cared about ship plots or plots with the same few muns. me and other people who received the same message had all previously told the admins that people aren’t plotting with us and gotten ignored, so receiving this message made it clear that they neither cared about us nor wanted us in their rp. and so i responded as below:
yeah i literally told you i felt left out because there are multiple people only writing with white characters and you never addressed it, so this message is honestly insulting. i have reached out to almost every new member, responded to multiple open starters and have tried to plot with as many people as possible. like i told you, i am often left on read or people don’t even message me at all. if people do message me, i am usually expected to put in all of the effort and if people aren’t interested in actually developing plots with me then i am obviously not going to force my characters on them. all of my characters are queer, non binary people of colour and the harsh truth of this roleplay is that people don’t care about them. i even wrote out a whole list of 20 detailed suggested connections in an attempt to get more plots and nothing came from that either. i’ve even gotten anonymous hate saying that offering to explain my characters’ pronouns was “patronising,” which i didn’t feel like i could approach you about because, when i told you about how i’m feeling excluded, you didn’t care.
so if i only have actual plots with the people who actually care about my characters, i make no apologies. i also don’t even have threads with half of the characters you named, asher being the only one, and have literally only just come off hiatus. so please explain how i am bubbling, because this really just feels targeted at this point.
you’ve made it endlessly clear that this rp isn’t a safe space for people who want to play diverse characters. the main was practically silent while you had a ban on white faceclaims, which you never actively promoted, and then you dropped that suddenly without putting anything else in place. you also deleted my initial anonymous messages asking about diversity as if you were trying to hide that there was ever an issue. you turned anonymous messages off, so that no one can safely criticise you. because i did that off anon and ever since it has felt like there is a massive target on my back. my characters have been “accidentally” on the activity checks multiple times despite me being on hiatus (people get a notification that they were tagged even if you remove their name from the list btw). plus when i asked for an extension on my hiatus, you said that you would allow it “just this once” which now makes me feel like i can’t come to you if i’m busy. right now, for example, i am in the middle of moving house, but i’m also stressed about trying to stay active because you have made yourselves completely unapproachable.
the ratio only evened out slightly because members left. then suddenly after the ban you’re posting multiple promo posts a day??? you couldn’t get more obvious. i came to you about diversity in good faith, hoping that it was something you were unaware of, but you have made it abundantly clear that you actively do not want to promote diversity in your roleplay, we are just here to be witnesses to your ship. there are multiple members who are actually bubbling who have been brought to your attention, but nothing has been done. leo continues to only write with the same three white and white passing characters. charlotte pretty much only appears to write with leo and post a vague “message me for plots” post that wasn’t even tagged. both of you only put effort into your ship threads with each other and the occasional text threads. even with something like group events: while i’ve been here, there’s been a pride event that neither of your characters were even in new york for (an event where i was the only one reaching out and posting multiple starters, by the way); there was no event last month, and this month all you’re talking about is this housewarming party.
i’m really disheartened that it’s come to this, but i can’t be here anymore. please post unfollows for all my characters. you’ve said multiple times that we should trust you as admins, but this message shows again that i simply can’t do that. from the disregard of trigger warnings, to the way you treated being held accountable for the lack of diversity, to how you respond to people asking for hiatuses, this isn’t a safe space. even if i stayed, the target you have placed on me is making it insufferable to just write my characters in peace.
the other muns who received the same bubbling message (copy pasted btw, we all got the same one word for word) all responded with their own concerns and criticisms in responses of a similar length to mine. none of us received a reply, our unfollows were just posted the next day without any further responses from the admins. a few of the other members who had written and plotted with us chose to leave as well, which the admins wrote off as us just dragging them with us as opposed to them being able to make their own decisions and being aware of the situation (which was incredibly obvious. no promotion of a white fc ban, suddenly being active on the main once they try to stealthily drop the ban, then the majority of their muses of colour leaving???)
i haven’t paid the rp much attention since i left, as i mentioned above i blocked the main and the majority of the members just for my own mental health. but from a quick scroll through today i can see that the only change in diversity rules is that now instead of your third character having to be a poc, it is now your second. however, you still only have to have 1 character out of 3 have a fc of colour. so very little has been done, but of course i’m not surprised in the slightist.
these admins don’t want diversity in their roleplay. if you play any character who isn’t a rich, white, cishet neurotypical, please avoid it at all costs. it’s not in any way a safe environment.
59 notes · View notes
notbleachtea · 3 years
Text
Favorite Shirt
Okay time to post again. Slight warnings, mention of death, toxic relationship, slight emotional abuse.
Word count ~2.9k
"Tch, I guess it’s about time I clean my desk. I can't work with all of this crap on it." Jotaro annoyedly says.
While cleaning off the countless stacks of paper he pauses. All desire to clean is quickly knocked out of him. He sits back down in his desk chair holding the group picture you all took in Egypt. He glances over each face in the image, some happy memories, some not so much. He would give anything to go back in time to change the way things played out. So many stupid mistakes. His eyes immediately halt when he gets to yours. His face expressed sorrow and longing.
His favorite memories of the two of you start to come rushing back to his head, and for a moment, he smiles. The constant flirting that always occured between the two of you. The silent stares you each felt from one another. No matter how much the others teased you two, you still weren't sure if admitting your feelings was the best idea. You each had your own reasons for keeping distant. The mission was much more important anyway, and so was your friendship.
He recalls one of his favorite memories with you.
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It had been a long week of tiresome stand battles, the closer you got to Egypt, the more intense they became. He noticed this was taking quite the toll on you and made the gang find a hotel that night so you could get some much needed rest. In the meantime he suggested that you use him as a pillow in the car on the way there.
Honestly, you took him up on the offer. You took everything you could at the time knowing that it would never go any further no matter how bad you wanted it to. Your head rested on his large chest, which was surprisingly soft for how tough he was. Every now and then he'd tug on his hat to cover his face when in fact he was just trying to steal a few glances at your peaceful, resting figure.
"Alright, we're here, group up and we'll get going into our rooms," Joseph states.
"I ca-"
"She's staying with me. There's no discussing it." Jotaro then picks you up and carries you to your room.
You started to wake up from the movements and the background noise going on in the hotel, and the first thing you saw was Jotaro's face when you opened your
eyes.
"Clearly I must be dreaming," you thought.
"Look who decided to wake up." he scoffed at you. "Really left it up to me to carry you all the way up here."
"I'm so sorry! I won't let it-"
"That's enough. I was just kidding anyway. You fought really hard today, it's the least I could do."
You smiled back at him as he set you down on the bed. That was honestly all the thanks he needed.
"Anyway, I'm going to go get something to eat, I'll bring something back for you if you want, but you should probably get some real rest soon."
You began to crawl up into the bed in your dirty and torn clothes from the day you just had.
"Good grief, what do you think you're doing? You're really going to sleep in a nice clean bed in your dirty clothes??"
"Well, I don't really have any clean clothes left right now, so, unless you have a better ide-"
You were quickly cut off with a soft hit to the face. Jotaro threw one of his clean shirts at you.
"Here. You can use this. It'll be more comfortable anyway."
Jotaro had left to go pick up some food and when he came back he was greeted with his favorite shirt filled with his favorite person. Wearing only that shirt made you look much smaller than you actually were, it practically went down to your knees.
"Thanks Jotaro! I promise I'll get it back to you as soon as I can."
"Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." He cooly tried to say as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.
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After everything that had happened in Egypt, you just wanted to get away from it all for a while. Go out on your own to a new place with no reminder of the loved ones you lost and all the feelings you never acted on. As a thank you for your hard work, the SpeedWagon Foundation offered to pay for everything of whatever you decided to do. You thought maybe you'd try going to school in America for a while. It was great, you had all the experiences you grew up seeing in movies and on TV. You made plenty of new friends there and even dipped your toes in the dating pool.
Right after you finished school, you and your boyfriend got married. You thought that's what you ought to do, you've been with him for so long. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple. He always took you out on extravagant dates and bought you expensive jewelry. Every girl wanted to be you. But that was only because they didn't know what happened behind closed doors. He never physically hurt you, not many people could, I mean you could hold your
own in Egypt, you're pretty tough, but mentally, he knew you were weak. You would confide in him in the beginning of your relationship about all your friends back home that you missed. He never let you call home or talk to them either. The ones you could never see again. Everytime he wanted you to hurt he would just remind you that they were dead because you weren't there for them, you weren't strong enough to save them. Countless letters came in from your friends and family and he'd throw them away before you could see them. He would even tell you that no one was writing to you anymore.
Every now and then you manage to chat with Jotaro. He'd call you on your lunch break at work from time to time just to play catch up. Asking things like 'how's life?' and 'are you doing okay?' and the sort of thing. Everytime you told him you were doing great. You love your husband and you even try to brag about how well he treats you by describing all the luxurious gifts he's been buying you. Everytime Jotaro ended the call saying he was happy for you and then a
quick update on his life.
To be honest, Jotaro wasn't falling for your phone calls. He knew something was wrong, but he never knew how bad it really was. He thought it was strange that you never wrote to him or called him outside of your work hours. It was also strange how you never really went into depth about your personal life either.
One fateful day, you're having a routine call with Jotaro when your husband decided to stop by to take you out to lunch. He asked the secretary why your door was closed to which she simply responded, "Oh, she's talking to her childhood friend Jotaro! He usually calls about this time every week."
He walks into your office catching you off guard while you're still on the phone. The shock alone causes you to drop the phone with a quiet screech.
"Y/n, are you there?" Jotaro stays on the line worried about what he just heard.
Your husband shuts your office door leaving just the two of you in there and is yelling just loud enough to where your coworkers can't hear him.
"I thought I told you no one wanted to talk to you anymore? They're all fed up with you, can't believe you let your friends die back in Egypt. They'll never
forgive you for that."
"You're right I'm sorry just please don't do this here."
"What makes you think you can tell *me* what to do? That's not how this works. And who gave you permission to talk to other guys? There's going to be some serious consequences for this when you come home." He walks out of your office smiling at all of your coworkers like nothing had just happened, followed by a shut of your office door and your muffled cries.
"Y/n?? Are you still there? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"Wh- what did you hear?" You managed to squeak out, choking back tears.
"I heard enough y/n, he's not a good guy. I knew something was wrong. We have to get you out of there."
"No. This is my life now. I don't need your help, I told you I'm perfectly fine."
"Y/n I'm not kidding, you have to get out of there *now* and I won't take no for an answer."
"I can't, okay! I have nowhere to go. No one would believe me if I said the things he's done to me. Anyone who I try to run to just rats me out to him and the situation gets worse."
"Y/n, go pack your most essential things while he's out of the house. I'm buying you a ticket home for tonight. You'll be safe here this time tomorrow."
The instant care Jotaro had just shown you only causes you to cry more. How could you let yourself get like this? You really weren't okay. You were just too headstrong to admit anything was wrong.
"Thank you." You were able to muster through even more tears.
After picking yourself up off the floor and drying your face, you left your office, no intention to come back. You rushed home to grab only your essential items while your husband was finishing his day at work. You grabbed a few sets of clothing, your toothbrush, hair and makeup accessories, a few pairs of shoes, and your folder of important documents. Everything else was replaceable and or retrievable at a later date.
You take a deep breath and get the courage to call a ride to the airport.
Free from your husband's control, you weren't scared to text or call Jotaro on your own phone now. You called him letting him know that you were on your way.
One short plane ride across the ocean later and Jotaro was waiting there for you to take you home. You're not sure how long he was there for but you're convinced he was waiting there since before you even took off.
"Y/n, over here." He waves you over.
You walk over shyly and ashamed of what he had witnessed just the day before. You couldn't even pick your head up enough to look him in the eyes.
"Y/n it's okay now. You're here with me, he can't get to you right now."
"Ye- yeah I guess you're right. So where do I go now?"
"C'mon, I'll take you back to my place."
"We're stopping there before the hotel?"
"I'm not letting you stay alone right now. You're staying with me at my house. The only reason I let you fly alone was because it got you out of there faster."
Jotaro takes your bag and you both head to the taxi.
"C'mon short stuff, get those legs movin' faster."
"Hey! Not everyone can be freakishly tall."
Jotaro raises one eyebrow, "So I'm a freak, aye?"
"Sorr-"
"Don't apologize, you're already more vocal when you're free around here. I like it."
The taxi drops you two off at his house. The drive felt like an eternity when in reality it was only a few short minutes. You stared out the car door window in awe.
*So this is what he's been up to this whole time*
"Well c'mon now, let's get inside."
You quickly follow after him like a lost puppy.
"There's a spare bedroom upstairs and down the hall, why don't you take this time to relax and freshen up while I make us something to eat?"
"You really don't have to do this for me Jotaro, but I appreciate it."
You head upstairs with your bag. It really was a long flight. You decide to take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes.
About an hour goes by when Jotaro comes by your room to collect you.
"Dinners ready y/n."
"Okay, I'll be right out, I just have to put some makeup on first."
"Uhh, what for? We're not going out anywhere."
"I don't know. I just always do. He always made me wear makeup, even at the house, I guess I'm just used to it."
Jotaro quickly turns around and starts heading towards the kitchen, but not without leaving a remark, "well don't. You look better without it anyway."
You follow soon after him with a fresh blank face. The table has already been set beautifully and you can already smell your favorite dish. He brings over two plates of food followed by a new bottle of wine.
"Why don't we catch up for real this time?" He asks.
Hours go by at the dinner table along with a few bottles of wine. The two of you bickering just like the old days. You missed this. You needed this.
You finally caught a glimpse of the time and stood up to help clean up the table.
"You don't need to help clean this up y/n. We can even clean it up tomorrow. Why don't we go talk in the living room for a bit longer?"
You move forward as an attempt to get to the couch, finally realizing how much you actually drank, you're quite tipsy in fact. Jotaro moves over to the couch to join you. Sitting side by side he grabs your hand with a guilty look on his face.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you. It's all my fault."
Clearly he's a bit tipsy too if he's actually trying to admit being at fault right now.
"None of this is your fault Jotaro, what are you going on about?"
"If I was just straight with you when we were younger. If I actually had the courage to say something to you. Maybe you would have stayed. Maybe you would've ended up with me instead. Instead I thought you were too good for me."
Your eyes start to swell up. "Don't say that. Ever. I'm the one that's not good enough for you. Why would you ever want someone like me?"
"Well, you're you, that's why. You're strong, you held your own in the desert, you tried your hardest for us and you made it out. I've never met anyone as strong as you, and to know that someone took advantage of you? And I wasn't there to protect you? I'm so sorry for all of it."
Now full on ugly crying again, Jotaro wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug.
"I'm so sorry Jotaro. Can you forgive me?"
He lifts up your crying head by your chin and brushes all your loose pieces of hair out of your face. He holds you here until you return the look into his deep aqua eyes. He moves forward, crashing his lips into yours. There was no hesitation on your end, you kissed him back just as hungrily. Neither of you needed words to figure out what the other one was thinking. You could feel the admittance of your love for each other from just that embrace. Jotaro pulls back and pushes your head into his chest so he can hold you once again. He pats your head.
"It's all okay now, I'm sorry it took this long," and he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.
The moment is only ended by your yawning since you've been up for lord knows how long. Jotaro picks you up and carries you in his arms to his room. He notices the slight confusion in your face.
"I was thinking maybe you sleep in here with me tonight, kinda like old times?"
"Okay, just let me go change into my pajamas. I don't want to get in the nice clean bed in my dirty clothes.".
You walk back into his room in just his old t-shirt you kept from the desert.
"You really kept that old thing?" He spouted.
"I really did. It's how I kept you close that whole time I was gone." You said with an embarrassed smile.
"It really does look better on you ya know?" He says through a full face of blush. Just seeing you again in that shirt made him think of all the things he wanted to do to you now and then.
You moved to go lay down alongside Jotaro in his massive bed. He always wanted to know what it'd be like to hold you in his arms in his own bed.
Jotaro pulls you into his chest to hold you tight, with no intention of letting you go. He places a delicate kiss on your cheek. You squeeze his hand as a subtle sign of acceptance and nuzzle into his broad figure.
“Goodnight y/n. Sleep tight.”
104 notes · View notes
torilovestowrite · 3 years
Text
Dabi x Reader; Try Again pt. 8
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Synopsis: Years ago, (Y/n) was left by her villain boyfriend, Dabi after discovering an unexpected news. Ever since then, she never had a lover— focusing on her only son, Yuta. Later on, she meets Todoroki Touya— a new co-worker who seem to be persistent towards winning her heart and attention.
Ship: Dabi x Fem! Reader
❗❗❗Content Warning: Mentions of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, Manga spoilers, Dabi is a Todoroki theory
🖤 » Chapter Navigation « 🖤
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"Yuta L/n, you're not going out!" Y/n strictly reprimanded as she tried to keep her son still from his position, lying on bed with a cold towel on his forehead.
It was during a Wednesday when Yuta, y/n's son, had a fever that reached over 41 degrees. Y/n felt threatened about this because her son has never reached this temperature. It's too high— and he also stated something about his body feeling heavy. What could be happening?
"B-but... we're about to watch a movie in school today! I don't want to miss it!" Yuta began bawling his eyes out while Y/n sighed at his dramatic tone. Does it really have to be like this? Yuta has to be emotional and sensitive every time he gets sick? This only reminds her of him— the way he would caress her soft hands every time she would tend his wounds every after a tiring day— the man he used to love, Dabi, would appear to be more gentle and affectionate every time he gets worn out... or ill.
"We're going to watch a movie while you take a rest here at home, okay?" Y/n gently tapped her son's side in an attempt to make him close his eyes and sleep. "For now, take a rest. Or else, it would take longer before you could go outside."
Immediately, Yuta turned his back from his mother in an attempt to be more comfortable; and to have a good sleep. Y/n smiled at his actions. Good thing, her son has always been considerate on her hardwork and the way she disciplines him.
It wasn't too long until she heard a notification from her phone— a message coming from Touya.
touya ❣ : good morning y/n. how's ur pretty face doing?
It's been four months since y/n realized her feelings for Touya. Both of them started dating two months ago and so far, he has been understanding towards her obligations as a mother. Most of their dates included Yuta and there are times when Touya would volunteer to watch over him while she's away during her day shifts. Y/n could never ask for anything— Touya was doing his job greatly; as a boyfriend and as a paternal figure to Yuta.
you : yeah, i'm all good babe. thanks for asking. but yuta's sick rn... i dont really have anyone to take care of him and i need to go for my day shift.
touya ❣ : you want me to go for it? i mean, i only work during nights anyways
Y/n's smile lit up as she read his message. Finally! She thought. She could go to work!
you: sure thing babe 💗✨
Few more minutes, when Yuta has finally travelled to dreamland, Y/n left the house, wearing her thick f/c coat with her hair styled to become more neat-looking. Another day for work, she thought.
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It's been two hours since Touya arrived in Y/n's home. Using the spare key under her house's doormat, he decided to enter her house that was silent when he went inside. Until he heard a child's high-pitched scream coming from Yuta's bedroom. His instinct caused him to immediately run towards this direction; but what he saw caused a heavy sensation in his chest. Those familiar blue flames that was once his signature— as Dabi; the heartless villain who claimed 30 innocent lives.
"U-Uncle T-Touya!" Yuta cried in panic while his right hand was burning with blue and heated fire. "W-What should I do?! M-my—"
"Breathe." Touya immediately replied as he kneeled next to him, rubbing his back with his huge and rough hands. "You have to control your breathing and your emotions. You have to control it because the more you panic, the more it will get stronger."
Yuta closed his eyes and focused in calming himself down— taking deep breaths and thinking about things that he liked in life— ice cream, Y/n, Uncle Touya, pro-heroes... all the things that makes him happy. Slowly, the fire became smaller and smaller— until nothing appeared on his hands.
"I-It's gone! The blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as a grin crept on his face. "Did you see that awesome thing on my hand, Uncle Touya?! That must be my quirk, right?"
"Yes, it's an awesome quirk that you have." Touya smiled sadly as he stared at the young and naive child— as if he was seeing his past self; the pure child who was corrupted by his father's evil desires and deeds. It was all fun and games knowing he has an awesome quirk like that... until his father, Enji Todoroki, decided to ruin everything for him.
But he swore to be someone better than him; to be a man suitable to be called a father.
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That afternoon, Y/n arrived at her home with such beautiful sight; Touya and Yuta scooped in each others' arms while the movie was left streaming. She smiled at the sight. It was so cute. For a few seconds, she almost believed that Touya was Yuta's father. The young mother couldn't help it but to take a picture of the two while having their peaceful slumber.
"I saw you," Touya spoke, "Delete it."
Y/n giggled as Touya stood up from his position as he tried to grab the phone away from her hands. It was such a cute sight. She was sticking her tongue out while she was trying to chase him. Y/n couldn't help but to feel as if they were all.. what? 17? Whatever, it felt cute, though.
"Yeah, whatever. Have that pic all you want. You can even make it your wallpaper." Y/n got her cheeks pinched by him as he gave her a light kiss on the nose. "I'm going now, sweet cheeks, I'm attending night shift for tonight."
"Sure, sure." Y/n smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek, as she watched his lean and toned figure leave their house. All that's left is her and Yuta. Slowly, his eyes opened to see his mother watching him sleep.
"Mommy?" Yuta spoke in a drowsy tone.
Y/n responded, hugging her son beside her while his eyes still looked sleepy. Seems that the sleep wasn't enough for him, huh? The young lady laughed at this, ruffling his hair, and deciding to ask him. "How was your day with Uncle Touya? Is it better than it was when you're at school?"
The young lad aggressively nodded and decided to tell Y/n the greatest thing that he discovered today.
"My quirk just manifested, ma! I have blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as he tried to show it off with the tip of his fingers. Y/n's eyes widened at this— it created a tingling feeling in her heart. It was like a slap on her face. Yuta is really Dabi's son, isn't he?
"T-That's awesome." Y/n replied, trying to stop tears from flowing.
While her son was still busy talking about his day, her hands were able to feel something on the couch. It was... hard. She pulled out to see a black leather wallet. Did Touya forget his stuff here? Y/n sighed at his forgetfulness. Well, he's a person, she thought, so he has flaws too.
"Did Uncle Touya forget that, ma?" Yuta asked in a polite tone. "Bring it back to him tomorrow, okay?"
Y/n smiled at what he said. She really raised her son well. "Sure!"
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It was night time. Yuta went back to sleep and Y/n was busy contemplating inside her room— walking back and forth; thinking about whether she should check his stuff or what.
It's not what others would think. It's just that it's been two months since they got together but Touya only says few things about himself. All she knew is that his parents are living overseas and he's left alone here. He has siblings who lived with their parents in abroad. Nothing more, nothing less.
Aside from that, it wouldn't hurt to peek just a little bit, right?
Y/n sighed as she finally came to a conclusion to check his wallet to see if there's something that would tell more about himself. It's not like she was nosy. She just wants to get to know him at a better level. He's quite of a silent and mysterious guy himself, which got the young lady curious about him.
Of course, there was nothing new; just few IDs, bunch of credit cards (which Y/n thought was odd because if he had this much money, why would he work in an old bar as a bartender), and a thin wad of cash. Nothing else— until something that was so unordinary in her eyes— fell.
Her eyes widened as she saw that memoribilia. No words could come out from her mouth. Her vision felt so dark; as if it was slowly fading; and her heart hurt so much. Only tears could come out from her eyes. No scream, no words, no phrases— simply, nothing.
"Y-you..." Her fists clenched tightly as her form started shaking— she didn't know what to feel. Is it anger, sadness, remorse— what should she feel first? She began to wail as she stared and touched at this object from the past. Whatever that happened was too painful for her to bear.
"You fooled me... Dabi."
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That night, Touya was looking for his wallet. It was nowhere to be found; not even in his car. Maybe he left it at your place? Well, whatever the circumstances are, he was hoping that none of you would be able to find it. Maybe, he'd drive towards your place again and—
His thoughts were interrupted as his phone rang. The caller ID showed Y/n— and a selfie that she sent him as the profile picture. Immediately, he answered it.
"Hello, bab—"
"Don't you babe me. We have to talk." Y/n's voice sounded cold and harsh. She was angry... and he knew it. Touya knew that tone several years ago; and if he hears that, he knows that hell will break because of her wrath.
"What is it?"
"Stop acting dumb." Y/n scoffed.
"How the hell are you alive, Dabi?"
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Taglist [OPEN]: @babayaga67 @marydragneell @xxtrash-kingxx @paranoiac-666 @velvet-kissesss @orenjineki @mermaid-starlet @ikita454 @yo-girl-lunar @pansexual-booknerd @daimiyu
a/n: i kinda did stop updating this but like bnha chapter 290 got me like 😭😭😭😭 dabi can i give u a hug plspslslslsl 😗😗
279 notes · View notes
natbarzal · 3 years
Text
Tyson Jost - Wake up
hi guys, so this one is just kind of sad, I don't even know how I thought of this but oh well here we are :)
the name of the hospital I used is completely random, I found it on google, and also not everything might make sense in this since I don't go to hospitals often so I don't know how it goes there
genre: sad
warnings: a car accident😶
word count: 1.4k
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enjoy💕
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Tyson's pov:
"So how are things going with Y/n?" Andre asked as we entered the locker room after our practice.
"Amazing. She makes me so happy." I said with a happy smile and went to take off my skates.
"I can see that. How long have you been together anyway? Haven't you thought about putting a ring on it?" he interrogated as he sat down to take off his skates as well.
"Actually, yeah. Our third anniversary is coming up and I'm planning on doing it then." I answered, looking over at him.
"Wow. Josty is all grown up." he said playfully. "Just kidding man. I'm happy for you." he smiled into my direction.
I smiled back and went to take off the rest of my equipment when I my phone started ringing. I took it out of my bag and saw that it was unknown but accepted the call anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hello, am I speaking to Tyson Jost?" asked a woman through the phone.
"Yes, that's me."
"Do you know Y/n Y/l/n?"
"Yes.. yes I do, that is my girlfriend. Who are you?" I answered, suddenly getting nervous. I glanced over to Andre to see him looking at me curiosly.
"Rose Medical Center here. Your girlfriend has gotten into a bad car accident. She's in a surgery at the moment. It would be good if you could get here, we've already informed her family." the woman said and I suddenly felt as if my world came crashing down.
"Yes.. yes of course I'll be there. Goodbye." I managed to say before ending the call. I just stared ahead for a minute, tears already clouding my vision and my heart beginning to race.
"Tyson.. is everything okay bro?" Andre asked, concerned upon seeing the state I was in. I dropped my phone and run my hand through my hair, looking at him while a few hot tears escaped my eyes.
"Y/n.. accident.. hospital.. I- I have to go.. I have to- I have to get to the hospital." I said with a shaky voice.
"No way you're driving in this state. Let's change and I'll drive you there, okay?" Andre said, trying to calm me down, though I knew that on inside he was worried too, after all she was like a part of the team, everyone loved her. I nodded and went back to getting out of my equipment.
~~~
After thanking Andre for driving me and promising to update him on Y/n's state, I rushed into the hospital.
"Hello, I'm Tyson Jost, I'm here for Y/n Y/l/n" I said quickly as I ran up to the front desk at the hospital.
"Can I see your ID?" the woman sitting there asked. I handed in to her and she looked at it before nodding and handing it back to me.
"She's still in surgery. You can go sit, her family is-"
"Tyson!" called a voice that I recognized as Y/n's mother's. I turned my head and immediately ran up to her, giving her a hug as soon as I was close enough.
"Hey. Did they give you any updates on Y/n?" I asked after we pulled away and it was then that I saw just how scared and tired she looked - her eyes red and swollen from all the crying and a worried expression on her face. I looked over to where Y/n's dad was and saw that he wasn't doing much better.
"No.. when we arrived, one of the nurses told us that Y/n had several injuries and that the surgery is going to take a while. That's all we know." she said, her voice cracking at the end. I looked up to the ceiling, the tears threatening to spill from my eyes once again.
I felt horrible. Probably the worst I have ever felt in my entire life. I felt like I could break down right then and there but I wanted to be strong. Y/n would want me to be strong.
"Well.. let's sit down and wait. There's nothing else we can do right now anyway." I looked back at Y/n's mother and led her over to where her husband was sitting. I said hi to him before sitting down as well, leaning my back on the wall behind me and rubbing my face with my hands.
~~~
"They've already been in there for over 4 hours. What if she doesn't make it?" said quietly Y/m/n, looking up at her husband with worried expression.
"Don't say that. Y/n is strong, you know that." her husband told her, rubbing her shoulder and placing a kiss in her hair in an attempt to try to make her feel a little better.
Suddenly the door leading to where the operating rooms were opened and two doctors came out. As soon as we saw them, we were all up on our feet.
"Are you the Y/l/ns?" they asked as they came closer to us.
"Yes, yes we are. How is our daughter doing?" asked Y/n's dad nervously.
"She's stabilized. She had several injuries including internal bleeding but luckily we managed to get it under control." a female doctor said.
"That sounds good.. when can we talk to her?" The two doctors looked at each other before the other one, a male doctor, let out a sigh.
"Mr. Y/l/n.. you're daughter is in coma." he said and looked at Y/n's dad sympathetically. My heart almost stopped at that.
"When.. when is she going to wake up?" I asked quietly.
The doctors both looked at me and the female doctor looked down before taking a breath and looking back up at me.
"We aren't really able to tell right now. It could take 2 weeks, but it could also take 2 years." she said and I suddenly felt my whole world come crashing down for the second time today. Y/n's mom let out a sob and hid her face in her husband's chest while he still tried to stay strong for her, but I could see that it was becoming a lot harder for him.
"Can we.. can we at least see her?" I asked, looking at the doctors with tears in my eyes. The female doctor nodded.
"You can. Follow me." she said and I turned to Y/n's parents, silently asking them if it would be alright if I went first. Y/n's dad nodded at me, still hugging his crying wife close to him. I turned back to the doctor and she took me to Y/n's room.
"I've got to warn you, she's very bruised and has some scratches on her face, it's not a nice sight." the doctor said. I nodded and she opened the door for me, letting me go inside before closing it behind me.
As soon as I stepped into the room and saw Y/n's body laying on the hospital bed, surrounded by wires, her leg in cast and her face covered in scratches and bruises, fresh tears immediately made their way into my eyes again. I took a chair from the corner of the room and placed it by her bed, sitting next to her and carefully taking her hand into mine.
I slowly brought it to my lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of her palm and carefully brushed some of her hair out of her face with my other hand.
"Baby.." I whispered as some of my tears made their way onto her hand. "you've got to wake up. You've got to wake up for me. You've got to wake up so we can get married and buy a big, beautiful house and have that big family that you've always talked about. A dog or two and three or four children, remember?" I said quietly, looking at the love of my life.
"You can't just leave me here Y/n. You know I wouldn't be able to live without you. God, please wake up." I mumbled, my voice cracking at the end. I let go of her hand and put my head into my hands as I began to shake with sobs.
Please, wake up.
_________________________________________
Part 2
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writinglizards · 3 years
Text
I’m Kinda Helpless (and I Need You)
Summary: It's not anyone else's fault he fell in love with a witcher who decided he wants nothing to do with him. They're here to have fun. He can pretend to do that, for a little while.
Jaskier, at a New Year's party, gets a terrifying call from a certain witcher.
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"Come on, Jask," Priscilla's saying, tugging him out of the kitchen and away from the alcohol table, "we brought you here to enjoy yourself, not drink yourself stupid. You could do that at home."
"This is only my fourth drink, Pri," he whines, spinning the mostly empty wine glass in his hands absently as Priscilla continues to lead him through the densely packed crowd to where Essi's chatting with..."Valdo," Jaskier hisses.
"Jaskier," Valdo returns, smile bright. Jaskier scowls harder and both Essi and Priscilla roll their eyes.
"Play nice, boys," Essi chastises before catching her girlfriend around the waist and reeling her in to press a kiss to her cheek.
"Just like college," Pri laughs, looping the arm not wound around Essi around Jaskier's neck and dragging him in with her. Valdo watches with an indulgent smile and Jaskier finds he doesn't even hate him, much. It's frustrating.
He forces a smile and tries not to let his sour mood drag the rest of them down with him. It's not anyone else's fault he fell in love with a witcher who decided he wants nothing to do with him. They're here to have fun. He can pretend to do that, for a little while.
They chat for a little before Essi gets dragged off by another acquaintance, Priscilla following, and then it's just Jaskier and Valdo.
"Heard you've had a rough go of it, lately," Valdo says as they stand shoulder to shoulder, staring out across the room. Jaskier doesn't know most of the people here; a few years ago that would have been exciting, now he wishes he'd stayed home, just a little. He lifts his shoulder in a one-sided shrug, sips from his wine glass. There's no point lying to Valdo.
"I'm...sorry for that, Julian, truly. You deserve someone who loves you, who makes you happy." His fingers tighten on the stem of the glass.
"And who's that, hm? You?" He can't help but say, words sharp like a knife. Valdo winces.
"Once upon a time, maybe," he sighs. It's quiet for a beat, "I still want the best for you, though." Jaskier lets out a gust of breath. He may not love the man anymore, may have never loved him, really, but--
"I know," he says, bumps their shoulders together gently, "thank you, Valdo."
"Anytime, Julian." It's soft and subdued, private and just for them. "Come find me before the countdown, yeah? For...old time's sake." It sounds like a resounding bad idea, but...
"I'll think about it," Jaskier says softly.
Valdo makes a satisfied noise and bumps their shoulders together again, gently, before he's stepping away, "Well, better make the rounds. See you in a bit, maybe," and then he's gone too, leaving Jaskier standing at the edge of the party.
He stays there only a moment. It's...a lot. The press of bodies, people chatting, the low thrum of music. This kind of thing used to be his scene, where he thrived. Now he just...he just wants Geralt and that hurts, Geralt wanted him gone, said "if life could give me one blessing" and well. Jaskier's trying, he really is it's just...hard.
He slips out the back door and onto the terrace off the back of the house. It's just for some air, he tells himself, he's not...not running away. He just needs a minute to breathe.
From here he can see the street through the cute little metal gate, the pass of cars and the occasional pedestrian. It's a rich side of town, one he rarely visits any longer. He doesn't even know the host, a friend of Priscilla's, someone she works with. He feels out of place. This is a far cry from the dingy diners, the 24-hour gas stations he's used to frequenting at this point. Or well. Had frequented, he guesses. He hasn't been much of anywhere since...before.
He leans against the little railing and tugs out his phone to check the time and then just...stares. He hadn't been able to bring himself to change his lock screen yet, a photo of the two of them, squeezed into a booth at some little coffee shop whose name he can't remember. Jaskier's smiling, bright and electric and Geralt's...not, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners, just a little, and he looks...he looks...
His chest heaves a nearly sobbing breath as he lets the screen go dark. He's maybe had a few too many drinks, but he's not going to cry about it, about him. It doesn't matter how happy he looks in the photos on Jaskier's phone. Geralt doesn't want anything to do with him, not anymore.
He's still wallowing in self-pity when his phone rings, vibrating intensely in his hand. No caller ID pops up, but Jaskier answers anyway. It's just as likely to be Essi calling from someone else's phone because hers has died as it is to be Geralt calling from a new burner phone. Except--
"Jaskier?"
His voice is rough and beautiful and tight with pain and Jaskier's heart stutters. His throat works, but no sound comes out.
"Jaskier, please, I--"
"Geralt," he forces out, his own voice hoarse. "Geralt, what--"
"Please," he continues, steamrolling right over Jaskier's quiet protest, "I need you to know I...fuck," it's a tiny noise of pain. Jaskier's chest clenches, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of it." His voice is faint.
"Geralt, where are you, what's wrong?"
"I'm...fine." It's not reassuring.
"Geralt, where are you," he's starting to panic, a little, "I'll call Yen, I'm sure she'll--"
Geralt laughs, sharp and sardonic, a noise that cuts off quickly on a wheeze. "Yen's the last person I'd call, Jask." The diminutive does something painful to him. He can feel the tears slipping down his cheeks as he rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand, frustrated.
"Still. Where are you?"
"Do you remember that diner on third street?" Geralt asks, voice a little hazy, a little too soft as Jaskier pushes back through the house. He needs to find Essi or Pricilla, someone who can drive him--"the one where...ah...where you order the--the milkshakes?"
"I do," he says. He can't find his friends, but he catches Valdo's eye across the room and something in his expression must be especially concerning because Valdo's already bowing out of the conversation and making his way over.
"I'm...I left Roach there," he says just as Valdo approaches, mouths "what's wrong" at him.
"Okay, and where are you?" Jaskier asks, holding a single finger up to Valdo who nods.
"I--" a harsh, painful breath, "--was checking out the warehouse two streets over. Bruxa nest."
"Okay. Okay, just--Valdo, do you have your car?" Valdo blinks at him, a little wide-eyed. Geralt makes a strangled noise on the other end of the line.
"Jaskier, you've had too much to drive," he says, which means he does.
Jaskier makes an ungodly sound at the same time Geralt asks "Jask, where are you?"
"Will you drive me, then?" Valdo's had...maybe half a glass all night--he's still carrying around the rum and coke he had when they'd talked earlier, untouched.
Valdo gives him a hard look, and Jaskier thinks maybe he won't before, "Yeah. Let me grab my coat, I'll meet you out front in a minute."
"Thank you, Val," he says, nearly choking on the wave of emotion that hits him, the gratitude he feels for this man he used to love. "Geralt, we'll be there in a few minutes, okay?"
"Mm," the mumbled little response over the line isn't reassuring.
"How close to the warehouse are you still, love?" The endearment slips out without a thought, and Geralt sucks in a sharp breath. Jaskier winces hard.
"'M...down the street." He's quiet for a long moment where Jaskier worries he's passed out on him. "Sorry to ruin your night out."
"Geralt, you're not ruining anything for me." He shifts from foot to foot on the stoop out front, waiting for Valdo to emerge. "How bad is it?" Geralt's silent for too long. "Geralt?"
"Uh," Jaskier can tell from the tone he's making a face, "few busted ribs. I'm..." a soft sigh, "losing a lot of blood." His voice is faint, still.
"How much is a lot, Geralt?" Valdo steps out the door and ushers Jaskier over to his car.
"Where are we going?" he asks as he slips into the driver's seat, Jaskier already fumbling for his seatbelt.
"It's...I may not..."
"Geralt."
"It's not your fault, Jask." A feeling like ice washes through him.
"Are you out of swallow or what?" he asks, trying not to snap at him. Valdo's sitting patiently while he waits for directions, only the tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel giving away his nerves.
"It's...I didn't bring it." Jaskier makes another ugly noise.
"The diner on third street," he tells Valdo who nods and shifts the car into gear, backing up. "it is in your car, yes?" he asks Geralt.
"...Yeah," he breathes. Jaskier just listens to the slow rasp of Geralt's breathing, eyes closed. He doesn't ask why Geralt didn't bring any with him, doesn't want to hear the answer, probably. "It's not your fault," Geralt repeats softly, and Jaskier can't help the little hiccuping sob, even as he presses a fist to his mouth to stifle it. Valdo stares out of the corner of his eye but doesn't say anything, which he's thankful for.
"If you die, I'll never forgive you, witcher." Geralt gives a huff over the phone, something like a laugh. "Don't hang up, okay?"
"Okay," he says. They lapse into silence, Jaskier occasionally giving updates on where they're at in relation to the diner, Geralt making vague noises of acknowledgment. When they hit the parking lot of the diner, Jaskier's out the door before Valdo's even parked. Roach is a few stalls away and Jaskier jogs over, fumbling his spare key Geralt hadn't taken back out of his pocket and unlocking it diving into the passenger seat, phone still pressed to his ear.
"I'm with Roach, Geralt, we're maybe five minutes away, okay?" Geralt doesn't respond, and something tightens in Jaskier's chest. With shaking fingers he digs through the floorboard and finds the little pouch of potions tucked in next to the steel sword and his sharpening kit in the foot of the passenger seat. He pulls the whole little bag out and locks the car door before slamming it closed behind him, a little too hard.
He slides back into the passenger seat of Valdo's car a few moments later, the pouch in his lap.
"Where to?"
"Try Fletcher. He's down by the warehouses." Valdo nods and backs out of the stall again. "Geralt?"
There's a rough noise over the line, but no indication Geralt's conscious. Fuck.
They turn onto Fletcher and Valdo drives slowly. It's dark and most people are either at home or at New Year’s parties, not hanging around the industrial district, so it's easy to spot the figure slumped over against a brick wall, pale hair hiding his face.
"Valdo--" he starts, but he's already seen him, and he hits the breaks. Jaskier's out of the car like a shot, potion bag tucked under his arm. He nearly trips over the sidewalk, barely catching himself at the last moment as he stumbles to a stop, hitting his knees beside Geralt hard.
"Geralt, love," he breathes, but it doesn't matter that his heart is pouring out his mouth--Geralt's out cold, phone cradled in his lap but not hung up, just like Jaskier asked. "Fuck."
He can see he's torn up--there's blood all over his armor and pooling on the sidewalk beneath him. He's got a hand pressed loosely over his side and his breathing's shallow. Jaskier fumbles a bottle of swallow out of the pouch and uncorks it.
"Please don't be too late," he whispers, careful fingers tipping Geralt's head up and coaxing his jaw open so he can pour the contents down his throat. Geralt sputters, but swallows, throat working, and Jaskier sits nearly in his lap, face cradled in his hands and fingers brushing his pulse point. Slowly, Jaskier watches as the wound on his side clots and knits together, feels the way his pulse, slow as always, strengthens ever so slightly, and Jaskier sighs, tips forward to press his forehead to Geralt's bloody shoulder as the adrenaline leaves him all at once. He'll be fine.
He sits there for a long moment, just letting the panic fizzle out. The footsteps behind him tell him Valdo's finally parked the car.
"Is he--"
"He'll be fine," Jaskier says, pulling back to stare at Geralt's prone form. His breathing is strengthening, the ribs beginning to knit back together now that the source of the blood loss has been dealt with. "Thank you, Val."
"Should we, uh, move him or something?" Valdo asks, the same moment Geralt groans and blinks open his eyes. "Oh, I'll...um. I'll wait in the car if...if you need me." He ducks his head and retreats to where he parked on the sidewalk a few paces away, giving them some privacy.
"You're here." Geralt's voice, usually gravel rough, is somehow deeper, more jagged, with the remnants of the potion.
"Did you think I wouldn't be?" Jaskier asks. He realizes he's still kneeling over Geralt, palms cupping his jaw and throat. Geralt's eyes flutter closed again, tired.
"I don't deserve it."
Jaskier's chest aches, sharp and painful. "Maybe not," he whispers, "but here I am." Geralt's breath stutters and he rotates out of Jaskier's grip to cough, a deep, rattling sound that makes Jaskier wince.
"I'm sorry I ruined your date," Geralt grinds out when his breathing settles, collapsing back against the wall again. Jaskier frowns.
"Why would I--?"
Geralt doesn't let him finish, "He looks...good. For you. I'm. I hope he makes you happy, Jask." Geralt's expression is guarded and it's...that's not...
"Geralt," Jaskier says slowly, "That's Valdo Marx. We're not dating. You did not interrupt a date. I was at a party."
"You're not...?" he starts, brows pinched, and Jaskier wants to hit something.
"Geralt. I'm--I'm not dating anyone. I. I can't." No one could ever make me as happy as you, he thinks but doesn't say.
Geralt makes a soft, unhappy sound, "Why?" At some point, his hands have landed on Jaskier's waist. Now he rubs gentle thumbs against the swell of Jaskier's hip bones in a movement that is more distracting than it has any right to be.
"Because I love you, you dolt," Jaskier chokes out, unable to hold down the swell of emotion at the confusion on Geralt's face, "and I know you said you didn't want to see me again and I--"
"Jask," Geralt stops him, a hand rising to cup his cheek, "you shouldn't."
"I know. I know, and I do anyway and I. I'm sorry, but--"
"I shouldn't have pushed you away," Geralt says, eyes bright with something Jaskier can't name. There's a thundering sound of cheers, distant this deep into the industrial part of the city. Midnight. New Years. "I love you, Jask, I'm sorry."
He tips forward to kiss him, and Geralt surges up to meet him, hands tangling in his hair. It's like breathing fresh air for the first time in years, like the first trip out of the city looking for a forktail, like every time Jaskier's patched him up, every time they've gotten coffee together at three am, every time Geralt's bought him a meal at a diner after midnight. The kiss breaks, but they don't move away, foreheads pressed together.
"I'm sorry," Geralt repeats, eyes closed.
"So am I," Jaskier whispers back, "I've been a right bastard myself, on occasion.” Geralt huffs a laugh, something soft and intimate. Jaskier cards his fingers through his hair, gentle.
"Stay with me?" He asks, and that's--
"Yeah," Jaskier says, presses another kiss to his mouth, slow and sweet, "let me go tell Valdo I'm walking you to your car and he can go. Then you can take me home and we'll crash at my place, okay?"
"Okay," Geralt breathes, reluctantly letting go so Jaskier can stand. He stares at him a moment, bloody and bruised and so very, very beautiful, and then he's pulling himself away, back to Valdo and his car.
"He's okay?" Valdo asks, rolling his window down when Jaskier gets close.
"Yeah, I'm--"
"Are you okay?" he continues, gaze intense and--
"Yeah," he sighs, "yeah, we're okay. I'm. He makes me happy, Val." Valdo's expression softens, something relieved in his eyes.
"Good. I'm glad, Julian. Does he need a ride back to his car?" Jaskier turns to follow Valdo's gaze, sees how Geralt fidgets at the edge of the sidewalk, impatient.
"No. We'll walk back. Thanks for the ride. I'm. Really very thankful."
"I know." His smile is radiant. "Don't be a stranger, Julian." Jaskier makes a face, which only makes Valdo smile wider. "See you around."
The car pulls away when Jaskier steps back onto the sidewalk. Geralt winds his arms around Jaskier's waist when he gets close enough, pulls him into another slow, thorough kiss that sets his nerves alight. They break reluctantly, Jaskier's hand on Geralt's face.
"Come on, love, let’s get you home."
It's been weeks since Jaskier's been this close to Geralt, weeks since they talked, since they touched.
"You're here," Geralt rumbles, a quiet sound, "I'm already home." And that's--Jaskier has to clear his throat not to cry.
"Happy New Year, Geralt." Geralt’s expression is soft, fond as they start the walk back to Roach. He slips his hand into Jaskier's, threads their fingers together and brings the back of his hand to his lips in a gentle kiss.
"Yes," he says, "it is."
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jimmygibbsjrrr · 3 years
Text
I have a lot of thoughts about the Slaters
namely, I've been wonderin why the Fairfield Survivors got thrown off the boat in Death Toll
in this panel of The Sacrifice comic, Francis confirms the fates of three of the rescue vehicles:
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Image ID:
A panel from The Sacrifice: Part 1. Francis is sat in the rescue vehicle from Blood Harvest, speaking to Louis. His dialogue is as follows:
"Louis, I hate to be the one to break this to ya, but we been heading to the safe zone four times now. Helicopter: crashed. Plane: crashed. Boat: kicked us out and left us to die."
/end ID
the chopper from No Mercy was confirmed crashed in Crash Course, and as for the plane from Dead Air, it was pretty easy to guess (and would have been confirmed in the cut campaign Dam It).
but the part about the boat? that's the Slaters' boat from Death Toll. this is the first time we learn this information.
so...why? what happened?
(more under the cut, ended up writing wayyyy more than I expected over these past few days and don't wanna clog people's dashes lol)
so. let's take a quick dive into the last chapter of Death Toll, to see what we can discern about the Slaters from their dialogue.
the rescue vehicle in Death Toll is a civilian boat, Saint Lidia II, owned by John and Amanda Slater, a married couple. Amanda is never heard in-game, but John's reactions to her can be heard over the radio.
the Slaters are explicitly looking for "anyone out there with firearms". John later adds that "once you get on this boat? Your job is keeping our asses alive". it appears that their motivation for saving the Survivors is selfish from the get-go.
this is undoubtedly true in Amanda's case, however, some of John's lines betray a more selfless attitude. he will berate Amanda for not "think[ing] about the little guy". he will ask, "So what, then? We leave 'em to die? I can't do that, Amanda." whilst Amanda is thinking purely of their own survival, John still feels compassionate towards his fellow survivors. despite this, he says that "I don't want our first act of kindness to be our last", acknowledging the conflict between his compassion and his self-preservation.
so. these are the Survivor's saviours in Death Toll. a conflicted married couple looking for bodyguards, offering to take the Survivors upriver to a military safe zone in exchange for protection.
as for why they get thrown off the boat...well, the easiest explanation would be Amanda.
but, stay with me here, because I think it's a little more complicated than that.
this boat? fulla tension. there's the obvious tension between the Slaters, who we've established seem to fight and disagree regularly. then there's the inevitable tension between them and the Survivors. I reckon Louis, with his generally positive and friendly attitude, wouldn't have much of a problem with them, might even attempt some friendly conversation or something. however, he's about the only one.
the comic fully establishes Bill as caring about nobody except the Fairfield Survivors - the most obvious evidence of this being the words he lives and dies by, "we look after our own". he isn't particularly interested in other people, unless they can help the group out. and he'd likely recognise the unstable and conditional nature of their rescue. while I'm sure he'd try and keep the peace, in any reasonable disagreement or fight Bill's likely to take his friends' side, and if anyone's getting thrown off the boat Bill is going with them. this goes for the whole group, to be honest; I don't think they'd want to split up at this point.
Francis hates boats, hates water, and can't swim, so (and I'm getting a little speculate-y here) would probably be in an even sourer mood than usual on the journey. being as abrasive as he is, plus this additional stress, it's fully possible he could piss off the Slaters enough to get himself (or all of them) thrown off the boat.
as for Zoey? well, I don't imagine a married couple who constantly argues is gonna sit well with her, considering her backstory. similarly to Francis, the situation they're in would make her far more stressed, making it more likely for her to lash out.
Amanda didn't want to save the Survivors in the first place, so while I think that John wouldn't throw them off the boat without reason, I reckon she could persuade him to throw them off if they 'caused trouble' - and they would get into an argument with her far easier than they would with John.
in short: yeah, I can see them getting thrown off the boat by the Slaters after some huge fight or disagreement. I think that's a reasonable interpretation of canon, and definitely an interesting concept.
...however, I do wonder if this tension would really be enough to destabilise their mutual need, after everything they went through to come together.
which is why I'm going to bring up The Last Stand!
I gotta quickly address something before this segment: yeah, I'm totally aware this campaign isn't canon. this evidence works with the fact that it exists in an 'alternate timeline'. also, I am missing a few citations for this section - if anyone can provide them I'd really appreciate it, but just a disclaimer that I currently can't prove some of the things the wiki claims members of the Last Stand Community Update Team have said. here and here are the wiki pages where I got this information. in short - the above explanation is simpler and more canon compliant, the conclusion I draw at the end of this post is backed by shakier evidence but I believe is more interesting, and you can make of all that what you will.
allegedly, members of the Last Stand Community Update Team confirmed a strongly-suspected fan theory about The Last Stand: that it branches off from Death Toll in some way, in a non-canon alternative timeline. as well as this, they allegedly confirmed that in this alternative timeline, the Survivors still end up in Newburg for Dead Air. even without the confirmation, this remains a solid fan theory, due to the constant references to Riverside and re-use of many of Death Toll's assets.
who rescues the Survivors in The Last Stand? John Slater. no Amanda - just John. despite her lack of voice actress, if she was still present John would give some indication of this at some point. it can be speculated that whatever happened to her contributed to the lack of rescue at the boathouse that forced the Survivors to take an alternative route. either way, he ends up at the lighthouse when the Survivors call for rescue, alone, and picks them up.
and then later...throws them off the boat. into Newburg.
what reason would John have to do that? without Amanda, surely he wouldn't have that push, as he wanted to rescue the Survivors for multiple reasons in the first place. without his constant arguments with Amanda, Zoey wouldn't be nearly as stressed. and between the three of them I'm sure the other Fairfield Survivors would stop Francis from pissing John off enough to get them thrown off the boat. in short, less Amanda = less tension, and no reason for the Survivors getting chucked off the boat.
...right?
I'd like to remind you that a symptom of the Infection is paranoia.
what if, in both The Last Stand and Death Toll, John and Amanda are infected by the Survivors on the way to the military safe zone? after all, the virus is confirmed to occasionally be airborne, and I doubt two civilians have completely effective, sustained protection against that. likely the only reason they hadn't already been Infected is because they got out on the water early on in the pandemic, and hadn't come into contact with anyone else since. it's unlikely that one of them is immune, and even more unlikely that they're both immune (especially considering those with XX chromosomes may be genetically less likely to be carriers). wouldn't Francis have mentioned it if their rescuers turned or were obviously Infected? yes, but it's possible that the airborne strain works slower as well, meaning that the Survivors are thrown off of the boat after the symptoms kick in but before the Slaters fully turn. even Church Guy had at least an hour from being Infected to turning, and he was bitten. Newburg isn't too far from where the Survivors are rescued in Death Toll anyway (the burning city in the background of the finale is Newburg), so the Survivors clearly didn't last long on the boat anyway. as a result, the Survivors wouldn't realise it was the Infection intensifying the Slaters' paranoia - they'd just think the Slaters were being dicks. Francis also explicitly mentions that they were "left to die", implying negativity or even hostility from the Slaters as the Survivors were being thrown off.
so yeah. that's why I think they got thrown off of the boat in Death Toll - a combination of the intense tension between the two parties, and the Slaters falling victim to Infection-induced paranoia. but an explanation minus the Infection is equally as plausible. it all depends on what you find most interesting, I suppose, and both feel like they fit pretty well into the world.
lord this is a long chunk o text. I know most fandoms prefer art and fanfic over this sorta thing, so please let me know in replies or something if you're interested in more stuff like this. also if any of this makes sense because I like to ramble.
oh and if you'd like to use any of my interpretations in fanworks like art or fic, I'd love to see it :)
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tobesobri · 4 years
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𝒯hank you for all the love on the first chapter, that was honestly the last thing I expected, and it really does mean the world to me that you guys like this story. I’m going to include the taglist at the end, but if you’d like to be added for future updates, go here and put in your tumblr URL. Okay, anyways, this chapter is very like,,, rocky and emotional so! Have fun reading :)
huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️
Chapter Two: Do It One More Time (3.8k)
Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.
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Sneaking Harry out had been the least of her worries. Him being on her mind constantly was a much bigger cause for concern. She had trouble sleeping at night, tossing and turning and even having to wash her entire bedspread to get rid of his scent. It had been no use, however. It was like her body got a taste of something very potent and wanted it now more than ever before. 
And it didn’t take long for her to get back into her routine. To soil the pillowcases in her tears because the emptiness inside her chest had only grown tenfold after what had happened with Harry. Her muscles literally ached and her sobs almost sent her to the bathroom to hurl up an empty stomach full of knots.
Her brain had finally gotten a reprieve from its loneliness. She finally felt what it was like to have someone, even if it wasn’t real. Even if it was a mistake and even if it was fleeting. Harry had filled whatever missing parts were within her and it hurt like hell to go back to normal again.
But she wasn’t the only one. He couldn’t sleep anymore either. His house felt massive and the silence between all the walls seemed to ring just a little bit louder. He found himself buying an unnecessary amount of pillows and setting them all up on his bed just to surround himself with something. He’d been here before though. After a breakup, his least favorite part was going back to sleeping alone. He hated not having someone to hold onto. It took him weeks to get used to it last time, and to get used to the cold spots on the other side of the bed. It only took four and a half hours with Y/N to fuck him all up again.
And he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he was desperate.
“Hello?” Even her voice was a breath of fresh air for him.
“Hey, it’s uh… Harry.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you had my number.”
“Will gave it to me a while ago… for emergencies.”
Y/N took a long pause, unsure why Harry was calling her on a Thursday afternoon, completely at random. It had been almost an entire week since their… incident. Why was he calling her right now?
“So… is this an emergency?”
“Um… well, no. It isn’t.”
“So why are you calling then?”
“I was wondering um… you can say no but um… I was wondering if you wanted to… sleep with me again.” He cringed at his last few words and the way they felt like knives cutting his throat to get out. He had no better way to phrase what he wanted other than being blunt about it and admitting he wanted her up against him. He wanted more than just lifeless pillows to cuddle up to at night. 
And something about Y/N had him losing his fucking mind the past week so asking her to sleep with him seemed low on his list of crazy.
“Sorry?”
“I mean… like we did last week. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight, just to sleep?”
“Why?” She asked, unsure why Harry fucking Styles was asking her that. Sure, they were somewhat friendly and she had thoughts about asking him the same exact thing, but it was an odd request coming from him. She was sure if he needed a cuddle buddy that he could easily find anyone else. 
But even the thought of him being like that with someone else gave her a horribly sick feeling in her stomach that she recognized immediately but could not for the life of her explain. She didn’t get jealous, ever.
He cleared his throat, “Um well… I have had a pretty hard time sleeping and then last Friday it was like… like the best sleep of my life. And this past week has been awful again. So I was just… we don’t have to if you don’t want to though. It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have even called…”
“No.” She cut his spiraling off abruptly. “I mean… yes. I… can do that.”
He immediately let out a huge breath of air in relief but also couldn’t believe she had, yet again, agreed to another one of his stupid ideas. “I just want to let you know I’m not trying to like… get in your pants or anything. I genuinely just…” He stopped then, knowing a more believable story would be him wanting to get into her pants than what was actually going on with him.
“Just what?”
“I just need someone.” He admitted with his eyes closed tight as he laid back onto his couch. “And it’s not very easy asking people to just sleep with you.”
She let another moment of silence go by that just about tore him up. And right when he was about to ask if she was still there, he heard her voice again, as softly as ever.
“What time should I come over then?”
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Harry’s house wasn’t easy to access. First, there was the entrance gate to just get into the neighborhood, which had an intimidatingly large security guard posted out front like an oversized bridge troll. Then she had to hand over her driver’s license and try to convince him she was there to see Harry, and that her name was supposed to be on his list of accepted guests. The whole thing wouldn’t seem so unbelievable to her if she wasn’t already trapped in a pit of nerves from being there in the first place.
By some miracle, however, the guard returned her ID along with a visitor’s pass and opened the gates for her. 
Then, of course, there was finding his house, which turned out to be a whole other task and a half on its own. Every house was so far from the main road due to oversized front lawns that she couldn’t read anyone’s house number unless she practically trespassed. He’d given her very vague instructions so she mostly had to rely on Google Maps. Which somehow got her to the house at the end of Spruce Street with the enormous pine tall trees and rose bushes surrounding it just like Harry had described.
She pulled into the short gap of driveway just before the tall, wooden privacy gates that hid most of his house from view. After rolling down her driver’s side window, she inputted the four-digit code he’d given her onto the pinpad. Within a few seconds the gates opened, and after a moment to ogle at his insanely beautiful house, she swallowed the pit in her throat and carefully drove onto his property as if it was made out of glass. She really did not belong there, not in her beat up 2005 Toyota, and she couldn’t afford to break anything. 
The moon was already prominent in the middle of the sky by the time she got to his front door and rang the bell. His house wasn’t at all what she expected. It was old-looking. Almost cottage-like with stone bricks and vines trickling down the architecture. She expected the most modern amenities known to man from him, but it turned out to be the polar opposite.
She stopped staring at his garden fortress of a house, with her jaw hung wide, when his door swung open. Because finally he was there, right in front of her, giving her proof that she didn’t accidentally show up at the wrong address, even though the code had worked and the house was as he described. Her anxiety was just a little extra prominent than normal.
“This is where you live?” She asked, before he even got the chance to invite her in.
He laughed, holding the door in one hand and gripping the frame with the other to keep his balance as he stood in the middle.
“Um,” he sighed, glancing up at the house, “yeah, but I’m trying to sell it soon. I bought it when I was young and impulsive.”
“Oh.” Was all she said, and he worried for a moment that he had completely lost her. That she was going to go back to never speaking a single word to him ever again. That he wasn’t anything like what she expected and it was a little too much for her to take in. 
Just like most of his previous attempts at friendships, once they got even the tiniest glimpse into his life, they either bolted or stuck around long enough to get what they wanted from him.
Instead, she met his eyes again and smiled, “Can I come in or what?”
The inside of his house, however, had been recently modernized and she wondered if Harry had made all the design decisions himself. Like if he picked out the big geometric crystal chandelier in the foyer or the white marble countertops in the kitchen. She liked it, though, it was open with tall ceilings and unlike any home she’d ever stepped foot in. Even though it reminded her what vastly different worlds she and Harry came from, she knew his personality didn’t match up to his big fancy house. 
When they settled into the kitchen, and when Harry began pouring two glasses of water for them, she set her things down on his island counter to give her shoulders a break from her heavy backpack. She knew she’d packed too much stuff, but if she was spending the night at Harry’s place, she needed her own familiar things to keep her company. 
“I was thinking…” she started, watching as he kicked the refrigerator door shut once he’d put the filtered water pitcher back on the top shelf and handed her one of the glasses. “That maybe it’s a good idea to not tell Will… or... anyone about this.”
He thought it over for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, okay.” Averting his eyes, his mind thought of a million different things at once while he sipped on his own glass of water until another tangible question popped into his head. “So if we’re not telling them, then where do they think you are right now?”
“At a coworker’s place.”
He nodded again and for the first time around Harry, she felt so incredibly nervous. He’d made her nervous before but not like this. She’d always just avoided him and it worked her anxieties out, but there was absolutely no chance of avoiding him now. Maybe she should have just said no, but that also seemed like an implausible choice. 
“Is it alright if I like… get ready for bed? I just got off work.” 
He let out a small giggle around the brim of his glass and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll show you my room.”
And his bedroom did not, by any means, disappoint. Just the square footage of it was impressive, but her eyes were particularly drawn to his bed, and not for any other reason than the way it faced massive ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked, as it seemed, the entirety of Hollywood; and she fell in love instantly. It was mesmerizing, and she could not fathom why on earth he planned on selling. Hell if he didn’t want the house anymore, she’d take it.
“Bathroom’s over there. Make yourself at home. I’m gonna set the alarm and turn off the lights. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Nodding, she waited for him to leave before she fully lost her mind about everything. Not only was she in the nicest house she’d ever laid foot in, but she was also about to crawl back into bed with him. His king sized, fluffy-looking bed she could imagine herself getting lost in. 
She knew what they were doing was slightly out of the norm for people their own age. Most people didn’t sleep in the same bed as their friends unless they were doing something friends probably shouldn’t be doing. But the benefits of their budding friendship were a little more innocent than that to the point where even the thought of Will finding out where she was right now, while she slipped into her strawberry patterned pajama pants in Harry’s ensuite, made her lightheaded. She’d almost feel better if Will found out they were actually hooking up instead, because at least that wasn’t so… weird.
With the amount of time she spent getting herself ready, most of it being wasted on psyching herself up enough to go through with all of this, she’d become very familiar with his bathroom. He had two sinks along one wall, and massive mirrors that all faced a shower that could fit an entire army inside. The tiles were either black or white except for the blue pops of color here and there. The best part of it was the massive soaker tub in the back underneath a window that overlooked his garden. It was like he plucked a bathroom straight out of Good Housekeeping.
And of course she couldn’t let his things go unnoticed. She’d make herself a space at the empty sink nearest the door, the one that didn’t have his stuff neatly stacked around it. She eyed his small selection of colognes on a tray between the sinks while she washed her face, and couldn’t help her curiosity from checking out what brand of toothpaste he used when she started brushing her own teeth. 
Other than the little touches of Harry scattered sparingly about, however, it was almost as if no one lived there at all. And she became very familiar with how cold it all was.
It wasn’t until she turned the sink off after splashing her face, again, with ice cold water, that she heard the soft hum of a guitar from just outside the bathroom door. She wasn’t sure if he was playing, or if he had turned music on. She wasn’t even sure if Harry Styles knew how to play the guitar. She couldn’t ever remember him playing any instruments whenever he came over to work with Will, but maybe she was just tragically unobservant.
And that seemed to be the case once she finished up and went back out to find him perched on what appeared to be his side of the bed with his guitar on his lap and a leather bound notebook open in front of him.
Though before she could make out a single melody, he immediately stopped playing the second she re-entered the room.
“Sorry, you can keep… doing what you’re doing.”
He let out an exasperated laugh while she crept towards the bed on the opposite side and made note of the way he quickly hid his journal from her and stashed it into a drawer at his bedside table. Maybe she was overanalyzing things, but it seemed like whatever he was writing down was for his eyes only, and she respected that.
“I was trying to write a song… hasn’t really been working out for me recently.” He leaned away from her to put his guitar down on the floor, setting it upright against the table, and she hated the way her eyes went straight to the small sliver of skin under his shirt that was exposed when he did so. 
“Writer’s block?” She asked, slowly making her way up under the covers next to him, still feeling like she didn’t belong even though this had all been Harry’s idea to begin with. He needed someone and so did she, even if he didn’t fully know to what extent. But it felt like somehow she had tricked him into thinking the someone he needed was her.
“Sucks,” he mumbled to himself mostly, still very obviously in his own little work bubble.
“I usually just try to stop doing whatever I’m struggling with, and do something else, something I wouldn’t normally do.”
“You mean with your art stuff?” He asked and she wasn’t sure how he knew about her hobby, if Will had brought it up before, but it made her heart flutter nonetheless, that he remembered that small detail about her.
“Yeah.” She finally looked over at him, only to find him already staring at her and it weirdly made her less anxious about her current position. In his bed. In her roommate’s best friend’s bed. “If you’re stuck, you should leave it alone and write something completely out of your comfort zone. Then when you go back to where the problem was, you have a new set of eyes on it.”
He was quiet, first just listening to her speak, and then really letting her advice sink in because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about doing, but he made mental plans to give it a try.
“I’m sorry if this is really weird, Y/N,” he began, getting her attention when he changed the subject. “I know it’s hard to believe but I’m actually horrendously alone and I guess when we slept together I didn’t feel so much that way anymore.”
“I get it, Harry.” She sighed, never wanting to fully open up to him, but feeling like it was now or never to get him to stop making it more weird by apologizing. “Makes you feel like… empty.”
“Exactly,” Harry sighed and she glanced at him when he agreed so enthusiastically. “I haven’t been that close to someone in… months,” he rolled his eyes down to meet hers again, “and I guess I just didn’t want it to be like that again.”
The look on her face alone made it easy to tell everything he said resonated with her, like he was saying exactly what she was thinking too. It broke his heart to know that she, in any way, felt like he did, but it also made him glad someone finally understood what he was going through, even if in just the slightest.
“I understand, Harry. I guess I just don’t understand why you’re alone. Can’t you have anyone you want?”
He scrunched up his face, “It’s not that easy.” He huffed, “People aren’t all that interested in me as they are getting loads of likes on Instagram and having lots of money. I mean… I haven’t had a single relationship that didn’t end the same.”
“Still,” she mumbled begrudgingly. He was still Harry Styles. People still wanted him and, even if it hadn’t turned out so well, he’d still been not alone at some point in his life, unlike her.
He raised his eyebrows, a little irritated at this point. “Okay then, why are you alone? Can’t imagine it’s that hard for you.”
She rolled her eyes away from him and hung her head  to disguise the embarrassment on her face. There were two big reasons why she was alone, and she was not about to admit them to Harry at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night.
“So what is it then?” He talked for her when he grew irritated with her silence and her inability to see his perspective on things, “Your lack of ability to talk to people? Because you have these massive walls to keep literally everyone out, including me, for the past however many months we’ve known each other?”
She shook her head and sunk deeper and deeper inside herself. This was all a mistake. It had all gone wrong because she opened her mouth and said something insensitive. 
“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry.” She looked at him again finally, holding back the stupid tears trying to well up just from the mere thought of being even moderately yelled at, and especially by Harry who she’d never imagined being angry a day in his life. “But if we’re just going to sit here judge each other, I think I should go.”
“No.” He immediately reached across the king-sized space between them to grab her arm before she even considered leaving his bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that.” They stared at each other silently for a moment before he continued, “You don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine.”
She stared at him for a moment, and then at his hand around her arm and just how good it felt to be touched. Just to have human contact, even just something as simple as that. And then she felt just as desperate as she had when she agreed to all of this in the first place.
“Can we just go to sleep? I’m tired.”
It started out like it had before. A gap of space between them after Harry had turned out the lamp beside him. After he spent an ungodly amount of time staring out his window and listening to her breathing, and she spent the same amount of time overthinking, they both realized something wasn’t working.
“Harry?” She whispered like she was throwing out a line into a vast ocean.
“Hmm?”
“You were right… about why I’m alone. But… it’s also that no one’s ever really shown any interest in me because, um... ” she struggled, trying her damndest not to cry in front of Harry. “I’m... ugly, you know… so that’s, um...” Her voice was just a whisper she could barely even make out, but it was still the first time she’d said that to anyone before. Sure, she wasn’t facing Harry when she said it and they were in complete darkness, but it was still hard, hard enough to make her hands shake and the tears fall.
He knew it too, the way her voice wavered like he’d never heard before. He twisted his head over his shoulder to look at her, eyebrows furrowed even deeper when he saw the shadow of her hand move across her face to wipe the tears away.  
And here she was; in Harry’s bed where she thought her problems would be temporarily solved, and yet she was still crying. 
“So that’s why… I feel like I don’t let people in because I don’t want anyone to have to be stuck with me.” She finished and he flipped himself onto his back, still staring at her head like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, that she even thought that way about herself. He was sitting there in shock because, well… he had been wrong. He didn’t understand her at all. 
Without a single clue how to respond without sounding like a disingenuous asshole, he went another route rather than opening his mouth to give her unsolicited advice.
“Come ’ere.” He whispered, helping her until she was in his arms again just like before. He cradled the back of her head with one hand as she hid her face on his chest and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. Slowly, she warmed up to him and tucked her own arm around his side as they fit themselves together like puzzle pieces all over again. Except this time, they were both consciously aware of it. 
They stayed like that for a while until Harry listened to her breathing even out, and he could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. He still wanted to say a million different things, but knew it might only make it worse because his head wasn’t clear enough to say the right things. So, he just held on tight and waited for morning.
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taglist: @afterstylesmadeit @cxnyon-moon @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms @whydontharry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird @shawnsblue @thurhomish @theasstour @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @staceystoleyourheart @granolagrannie @defineharry @iambabyharry @1142590m @ashtondene @smokeinherperfume @cherryyharryy
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offtopicoverload · 3 years
Text
Disney Princess - 3
i told you id get it out anon, didnt i? but legit, so sorry this took for fucking ever, i get distracted :)
Chapter 2
M Rating (i bumped it up cuz of drinking? am i meant to? and no warnings)
Aurora x f!MC (Rylen Damen) (if you haven't been here in a while, i changed mc to an oc, but same personality)
~3k words (not super long, but i got a jump on chapter 4 so that should be out soon)
Read on Ao3
-
Aurora Emery is relieved.
It's strange. Very strange, the way her shoulders feel less tense and the way her thoughts are less clouded as she winds through Edenbrook’s halls, steps light as they lead her to Harper Emery’s office. She adjusts her coat outside the door, smoothing out the lapels delicately before stepping inside. 
Harper’s sorting through papers on her desk, only glancing up as Aurora sits across from her, palms flat on her thighs to quell her nerves. There’s tension lingering in the air, thick as it attempts to weigh down Aurora’s shoulders, attempts to counteract the result of the trial.
The pair sitting across from each other haven’t spoken since the fight in the atrium, the only communication being a brief, agitated text. Aurora’s foot begins tapping beneath the desk, muted by the carpet resting under her feet as the silence drags on and on and on and on.
“What did you need?” Aurora rushes out, her anxiety getting the best of her as her fingers twitch in her lap.
Harper glances up from her paperwork momentarily, meeting Aurora’s gaze, then sits back in her chair, hands folded atop her desk. “I thought it best we discussed what happened earlier,” she answers coolly, the slightest irritation in her expression.
“What’s there to discuss?” Aurora counters, squirming in her seat slightly.
Harper sits up, straight as an arrow, with tense shoulders beneath her coat and fingers knit together, resting on the desk. “If you’re not happy with me, Aurora, I’d like to know how to fix that.”
A sigh sinks Aurora’s own shoulder, sinking her further into her chair, “Aunt Harper -”
“Aurora,” she cuts her off gently, “I never want you to resent me or hate being around me. If that’s starting to happen, I want to correct it and be the best aunt I can be.”
“It’s just -” Aurora’s shoulders slump, any fight dissolving from her. “It’s overwhelming. When you give me as many assignments as you can, just to spend twice the time to keep you updated and involved. It’s exhausting.”
Harper nods along, falling quiet. Her hands find a pen, twirling it, twisting it between idle fingers. She nods again, more resolute this time, “I’ll try to step back some more, give you space.”
“Are you going to go back to practicing?”
She sighs, “Aurora…”
“You’re not happy sitting in this office, I know it,” Aurora frowns across the desk, folding her arms in defiance. “You’re always upset when you get home and take every opportunity to do some real work.”
“This is real work,” Harper frowns right back.
“No, it’s not.”
“Aurora…” she warns, eyes flickering with growing anger. “My career does not concern you.”
“And mine doesn’t concern you, but you’re still involved.”
“Then I’ll stop being involved. We can cut ties entirely, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I said,” Aurora bites out.
Harper sighs, her head falling into the cradle of her hands as a quiet permeates the office, mingling with the leftover irritation. “I think you should move out,” Harper finally says, not moving.
“Why?” Aurora’s asking before she can help herself, surprise widening her eyes and dropping her jaw.
“Being this involved in each other’s lives isn’t working, Aurora,” she gestures uselessly. “I love you, but we’re both adults and don’t need to be getting into petty arguments.”
“So I’m getting kicked out?” Aurora asks indignantly, her expression some odd combination of frustration and betrayal.
“Of course not! Just - Let’s take a step back, okay?” Harper attempts to gesture placatingly, waving her hands down.
Jaw clenched tight, Aurora spits, “Fine,” standing quickly and exiting from the office, letting the door fall closed with a thud. A nurse glances up from across the hall, and she barely musters as scowl before hurrying down the corridor. Her hands mess with her coat, adjusting neurotically as she navigates the winding halls. 
She’s not quite sure where she’s headed, just that it has to be far from her aunt’s office and the woman still sitting within it. It has to be far away from the nagging voice in the back of her mind, telling her she just can’t handle this workload, she’s not cut out for it. It has to be far away from the anxiety that sat heavy in her gut in the hearing, an inexplicable bubbling of nerves.
Her feet eventually lead her to a waiting area, where family members and patients awaiting treatment sit, the air heavy. A woman’s sniffling in a corner, a few tears escaping just to be wiped away by the tissue in her hands. A young boy plays with a toy car on the floor, a teenager keeping watch over him a few feet away. A man sits with his hands clasped tightly, knee jerking anxiously with wildly roving eyes. There’s a dozen stories within this room alone, each wrought with upset and grief.
And that’s why she’s here, why she’s dealt with that workload for so long. Why she felt that anxiety tug at her over Edenbrook’s fate. Why she wants and needs the best for herself, her aunt, the staff as a whole. A notification shakes her phone in her pocket, and she tugs it out, finally tearing her eyes away from the stories before her.
It’s from the other source of that anxiety, the person she was dreading seeing go most, purely because Rylen can help these people just as much as she can. ‘I know you’re allergic to fun, but everyone’s heading to Donahue’s tonight. Figured you might wanna come :D’
She frowns down at the message, glancing up at the waiting room one last time before turning down the hall, typing as she goes, ‘Only for the drinks.’ It’s an easy, comfortable quip, one that comes without trying.
Grey dots pop up in a single second, a chime quickly following, ‘Of course. I’d never presume it’d be for me, Princess ;)’
Aurora rolls her eyes at the emoticon, sending out a response as she arrives at a nurse’s station, leaning against it idly. ‘Good.’ Her grip slackens as she stares at it, one finger tapping the side of her case, a slow, steady beat, while her lips twist to the side. ‘And good job, Damen.’
‘Thanks.’ It’s quick as usual, and even without the smiley, Aurora knows it's there, reflected in Rylen’s own device screen.
Now, to survive the last of her shift - headache-inducing patients, stacks of paperwork, gossiping coworkers and all. She straightens up, exhaling deeply and setting her shoulders, teeth gritting in determination. 
---
Aurora arrives to a bustling bar, attendings and interns alike shouting and drinking, dancing and laughing loudly. A few glance her way as she cautiously steps up to the bar, ordering a beer as quick as she can, but she doesn’t bother with them. Once the bartender moves on, she slips through the thick crowd, finding a small, empty booth in the back corner.
She slumps into it, pulling her phone out just to occupy her time. She taps open the message that’s been waiting for her since she left Harper’s office: ‘I’m sorry if I upset you, but you should be more independent.’
With a huff, her phone slams against the table, and she chugs back her drink, leaving the booth for another. And another. And another.
“You came!” a joyful voice chimes, earning a short glance from Aurora.
Her attention quickly snaps back to where it’s been occupied lately, apartment listings she doesn’t have much interest in. “You always did like stating the obvious,” she grumbles. “You don’t have to check on me, by the way. I’m used to being alone.”
Beer sloshes in its bottle as Rylen slumps into the booth beside her, glancing over Aurora’s shoulder at her screen. “You moving?”
“Yes. And you’re nosy.” She slides away from Rylen, who puts even more space between them. “I’ve been staying at my aunt’s place all year, but we both think it’ll be good to have some space.”
Rylen nods enthusiastically, slouching back against the seat to look out over the bar. Elijah and Bryce are cheering on Sienna and Jackie as they down a row of shots, Sienna’s arms raising in victory when she slams her last glass down. “You know… we have a room opening up,” Rylen’s elbow nudges Aurora, a mischievous light in her eyes as they meet Aurora’s.
Aurora eyes her suspiciously, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yeah,” Rylen’s smile somehow seems to grow, glinting as she picks at the label on her beer bottle. “I mean, I have to ask my roommates but… it’s not like we can afford the place on our own.”
Nodding, Aurora turns to her own drink, tapping her nails against the side in contemplation. The faint sound can barely be heard through the bar’s sounds, but it’s enough to focus on, to drown out laughter and music to.
“Think about it,” Rylen’s nudging her again, pulling her back to Donahue’s. She glances up, finding Rylen smiling softly as she stands, gripping her beer loosely in her palm.
Aurora nods, still tapping lightly, “...I will.”
---
Rylen appears before Aurora’s eyes, collapsing across from her with a thud against the booth’s cushions. “So’ve you thought ‘bout it?” Her arms fold on the tabletop, chin resting on them as she gazes up with bright, shining eyes.
Blinking, Aurora looks up, setting her phone down and eyeing Rylen and her flushed, red cheeks. “About…?”
“Moving in! Duh!” She grins, not a hint of trepidation, of reservation, all teeth and deep smile lines. Her head lolls to the side, cheek pressing into the fabric of her shirt, “So…?”
Aurora sighs, rolling her eyes, “Maybe. I need more than a single night.”
Bottom lip jutting out in a pout, Rylen tries her best to be irresistible, “Boo. You should just say yes.”
“Why do you want me in your apartment anyway?”
“Okay, so,” she sparks to life, jerking upright as energy overflows from her. “One:” she flicks a finger out, leaning over the table. “We need help paying rent. Two: We know you, and strangers are weird. Three: You’re pretty cool and we all like you already.”
“Really? Even Jackie?”
“Well…” Rylen’s voice pitches up as her head bobs in consideration, “She likes the help with rent, but she’ll come around. Swear it.” She draws an ‘x’ over her heart, slumping against the back of the booth.
Aurora only shrugs, picking her phone up again to occupy her hands and mind, “I still haven’t decided.”
Rylen hefts a world-weary sigh, her shoulder rising and dropping dramatically, “Fine. But decide soon or we’ll have to find someone else.”
Aurora nods, attention already returned to her phone and the scrolling of her email inbox. Across from her, Rylen falls quiet, gaze wandering distractedly, seeming to snap onto anything and everything.
Abruptly, her gleaming eyes fall back on Aurora. “Gimme your arm,” her hands reach across the table, keeping their distance but waiting expectantly, palms upright. 
Aurora obliges without thinking, allowing Rylen to carefully take her wrist, pushing her sleeve up her forearm, fingers barely brushing her skin. A shiver ripples down Aurora’s spin before she shakes it away, schooling her expression into distant curiosity, “Why?”
“Just checking you haven’t broken out in hives.” Rylen smiles easily, thumb brushing Aurora’s wrist unconsciously, light enough to send goosebumps breaking in a tidal wave.
“I’m not actually allergic to fun, you know,” Aurora barely manages a glare, her attention continually slipping back to the fingers still tracing random patterns on the inside of her wrist.
“Can never be too careful.” Finally retracting, Rylen’s hands fall to her lap, and despite the heat of the small, crowded bar, Aurora’s skin feels colder for it. Her goosebumps disappear, and she retracts her own arm, fidgeting with her glass.
She avoids Rylen’s eyes, staring into the random cocktail she ordered intently. “Don’t need your concern.”
“Everyone needs my concern.” Rylen doesn’t react to the slight edge in Aurora’s voice, the unspoken warning to keep her distant, like a snake’s rattle, “I have great concern, you’ll see.”
“I’m sure I will,” Aurora’s teeth grit together, grinding ever so slightly.
The corner booth falls silent as Rylen watches her carefully, watches her race the rim of her glass and stare at the colors inside. “...If you really don’t want to be here, you should go.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Aurora’s dark eyes flicker up, finding an earnestness in Rylen’s she hasn’t seen since that day in the supply closet. It’s not unwelcome either, it’s reassuring as Aurora takes in the crease between her brows.
“Never,” she shakes her head adamantly, “Just don’t want your night to suck.”
“I’m fine,” Aurora shrugs awkwardly, picking at one of her nails. “But thanks.”
“‘Course,” hazel eyes crinkle as Rylen smiles, nearly squinting with the force of it, and Aurora can feel herself relaxing under the full brunt of that smile. The spell breaks as Rylen stands, “I’ll go but lemme know if you need anything,” tapping the table in a short burst before sauntering off.
She joins a group by the bar, throwing her arm around a giggling Sienna’s shoulders as Bryce speaks animatedly, Kyra interjecting periodically. Occasionally their laughter and shouts manage to float over to Aurora’s corner, and every burst of Rylen’s voice draws her eyes.
It’s late when Donahue’s finally starts emptying out, loud clusters of doctors filtering out the front door, most a little uneasy on their feet. One of the interns spilled a drink on another earlier, their raised voices effectively ending the night for most.
Aurora’s nearly slipped out behind a few of the quieter attendings when someone stumbles into her from the side, arms wrapping around her waist as a face is buried in her shoulder. Dark hair tickles her nose as she glances questioningly to the culprit, beaten to the punch by a mumbling against her, “Thanks for coming. Even just for booze,” before she’s released, a flushed, very drunk Rylen leaning against Rafael for support.
He smiles kindly at Aurora before carefully putting his arm around the woman waving to her and leading Eylen away, down the street after their other friends. Tugging her jacket tighter, Aurora turns the opposite direction, scanning the cars for the ride she called thirty minutes prior.
---
Aurora’s keys jangle as she unlocks her apartment’s front door, dropping them on the nearby tabletop before shrugging out of her jacket, bag still slung over her shoulder. She stretches her back, pops sounding as she stalks further into the apartment with a sigh, head bowed in exhaustion.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming home at all.” Harper’s voice rings from the kitchen, her arms folded on the countertop.
Gaze snapping over to her, Aurora straightens up, “I went to Donahue’s. Damen invited me.” The response is quick, nervous as she stares down her aunt, the very same aunt she fought with twice today.
“Rylen? I heard about that.” Harper speaks over her shoulder, crossing the kitchen to scavenge in the fridge. 
“Yeah,” Aurora shrugs, crossing her arms beneath her chest awkwardly. “There were a lot of staff there.”
Harper pulls out a water bottle and an orange, messing with them idly as she bumps the door closed with her hip, “Did you have fun?”
“I guess. It was pretty typical.”
With a nod, Harper snatches ibuprofen off a counter, stepping up to Aurora and depositing the items in her hands. She smiles softly, squeezing Aurora’s shoulder as she steps past her, before disappearing down the hall, “Take care tonight.”
Aurora blinks down at the things in her hands, somewhat surprised by the peaceful interaction. She follows a beat later, juggling the objects until she can dump them on her bed, door slammed shut behind her and bag dropped to the floor. Staring up at the ceiling, she listens to the quiet, dark apartment, and the bustling of the city outside, blocked from her by a closed curtain tonight.
A buzz sounds, an increasingly familiar buzz. Aurora jerks upward with a sigh, grabbing her bag and rifling through it until she finds her phone case. Her screen appears blurred as it lights up, and after rubbing her eyes, she opens it to the expected message.
‘Thnks agan  . drunk but youre a perfct princess :DDDDFDD’
Typing slowly, carefully, Aurora crafts her response, still grinning at the virtual smile she was gifted. She smiles too much when she’s been drinking, but maybe Rylen deserves it more than most. Or maybe she’s drunker than she thought. ‘You’re a pain but the drinks were good. Thanks.’ she finally settles on.
And with that, she puts her phone on silent, plugs it in across the room, nearly collapses into her bed, and begins messily peeling her orange in little pieces. A half hour later, she’s tucking into bed, eyes fluttering shut with the image of Rylen’s loopy, relaxed smile branded on her eyelids.
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hargreevestan · 4 years
Text
Unexpected Company (Part II), Five x female!Reader
Authors Note: This is a continuation of Part 1!! A reminder that Five played by a minor, so out of respect please superimpose Five’s character onto an age appropriate face claim if you are an adult like myself! (I felt it was inappropriate to describe what the reader finds cute about Aidan Gallagher, so I’m just describing Harry Styles since they're both brunettes with green eyes. Close enough?) Anyways, here Five meets up with reader at the library, but not without drinking his Respect Women juice. 
Trigger Warnings: Second hand embarrassment perhaps?? 
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“You know, there are some people who consider your beverage choice to be sacrilegious,” Five said, setting down two paper cups on the circular table before taking his seat.
“What can I say? I was never much of a traditionalist, ” (Y/N) replied, looking up from her computer. “Thanks for getting drinks, by the way. How much was it?” she asked as she reached for her wallet. Five caught her hand and playfully grabbed her wrist.
“Monetarily, it was nothing. However, the toll on my dignity of having to look another man in the eyes and ask for a ‘decaf salted caramel mocha with almond milk’? No way I’m getting that back,” he teased before letting go. “So, any updates on your research?”
(Y/N) felt her face heat up, promptly turning her face towards the computer screen before Five could notice. “Still just reading up on previous quantum theories, but-” she stopped mid sentence, “Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’ll give you three guesses,” he replied as he poured the contents of a silver flask into his half-finished coffee.
“You can’t do that here! You didn’t even add creamer or anything!”
“Shhh, we’re in the library,” Five joked in a low voice.
This part of the building was the ugliest and most inconvenient to get to. It was just a few metal tables on the third floor, surrounded by shelves of archived files that were rarely seeked out. Five and (Y/N) were the only two in the left-wing study room. While it was usually pretty desolate, it was especially so on account of it being a Friday night.
“How do you even get in here, by the way? Don’t they check for student IDs past eight?” she asked.
“I have my ways,” he shrugged and took off his black sports jacket. He had on a forest green sweater underneath.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes. It seemed her new friend insisted quite often on being unnecessarily mysterious. Sometimes it was endearing, but at others it came off as pretentious. Truly, how much could there be to him? She had met plenty of boys that approximately resembled Five over the years, with their clean-cut exteriors and perfect teeth that screamed trust-fund baby. Though, admittedly, it was much harder to visualize Five adorned in Greek letters as he did keg stands in the backyard of a frat house.
“Anyways,” she continued, “I’m looking at several models of the space-time continuum. Sometimes, I don’t know why I chose time travel for my dissertation topic. Everything is always contradicting itself.”
“Like what?”
“There’s the idea that the universe itself preserves consistency across the timeline at an atomic level-”
Five snorted and cut her off, “Trust me, that one is a load of crap.”
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him. Even though she was the PhD student, Five had managed to aid her research with calculations and helpful insights of theoretical material that most academics found confusing. “How do you know so much, again?” she asked.
“I’ve had a lot of time to read in the past,” Five deadpanned.
(Y/N) gave him a slow nod, “Of course.”
The pair discussed astrophysics for a while longer before independently conducting their research.
。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *
Five was gently shaking (Y/N) shoulder, waking her, “Hey.”
“Oh shit, did I fall asleep? Sorry, what time is it?” she replied, rubbing her eyes.
“Half past two. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
(Y/N) shook her head, “No, no, it’s okay. I live like, ten minutes away.”
“I know, but you’re also a very easy target for muggers.”
“What do you mean? I am stealth personified.”
“Catch,” he said, tossing an eraser her way. (Y/N) fumbled it in her hands before having to reach down and retrieve it from the floor. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Five commented, “Let’s go.”
They packed their things and made their way towards the elevator.
“So, how come you’re spending your Friday nights at the library?” (Y/N) questioned as Five pressed the down button.
“I could ask you the same,” he answered, eyes fixed on the numbers above the door.
“Well, I’m trying to graduate this semester. You, on the other hand, aren’t even a student.”
“I guess I’ve always just been interested in time travel,” he spoke as the elevator car arrived. He turned his head to look at (Y/N), the corners of his mouth turned the slightest bit upwards to form the reminiscent of a smile. “Ladies first,” he gestured towards the open doors.
“I mean, a lot of people like time travel. But they usually are like it in a sci-fi, comic book way; not the theoretical framework of it.”
“I’m big on utility.”
The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and Five followed her out the doors and through the lobby. Once they stepped outside, (Y/N) shuddered as her lungs filled with the cold autumn night air that so starkly differed the warm interior of the library. Subconsciously, she stepped closer to Five. Of course, he was unfazed by the weather. 
“Cold?” he asked, noticing his companion beginning to shiver.
“Yeah, kind of. Are you?”
“Eh, I’ve been through worse,” he said before shaking off his jacket and handing it to her.
She sheepishly took it, “Thank you.”
The two began to walk home. Somewhere along the way, it hit (Y/N) how cute Five was. She studied his appearance. A few brown locks stood messily out of place, probably as a result of him running his fingers through his hair. He tended to do that when he was deep in thought. He was looking straight ahead, his features illuminated by the street lamps or the occasional headlights of a passing car. There was something both solemn and dignified about him. He paused and looked at her.
“(Y/N)?”
“Yeah?”
“Uh, we’re here.”
“Oh, yeah, we are,” she said, turning her head to look at the yellow apartment building to her right.
“You okay?” he asked, noticing her strange behavior.
“Yeah, it’s just...” The porch lights shone against his face, lighting up his green eyes. She looked at his mouth and took a step forward.”
“(Y/N)?”
She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. She pressed her lips against his, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. After a moment, Five put his hands on (Y/N)’s waist, keeping his arms stiff as he took a step back.
“(Y/N), you aren’t even old enough to drink!” he stated, eyebrows raised upwards with concern.
“What are you- are you old enough to drink?” she countered, pulling away.
“Listen, I can’t see you like that… I’m too old for you, it’s wrong,” he explained.
While (Y/N) could handle rejection, she couldn’t stand to see Five make up reasons as to why he didn’t kiss her back.
“Five, it’s okay, I get it. I misread the situation, I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” she told him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Also, I thought I was a year older than you.”
“No, you aren’t. I mean, physically, yeah, but I’m old enough to be your grandfather.”
“Five, come on, you really don't have to do this...” (Y/N) repeated, taking a step back.
“Okay, listen, you’re a brilliant young woman. I adore you, much like how I adore my niece Claire. Your research- it’s going to be world-changing, especially to me… (Y/N), I think its time we have a talk about who I am.”
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todorokiaimee · 4 years
Text
Dopamine Chapter 5
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Previous Chapter
“Hey, Sero! Thanks for hosting tonight,” Kirishima said as he pulled an ice-cold beer out of the fridge. “It’s been a long time since we had a guys night.”
Sero nodded as he looked over the Uno cards in his hand. “No problem dude. I’m always happy to pull you away from your old ball and chain.”
“Well, Marina and I are still a while off from the wedding.” Kirishima chuckled as he rejoined the game, the guys all gathered around Sero’s kitchen table.
 “Fuck, don’t get him talking about Fish Sticks,” Bakugou grumbled.  “He’ll never shut up.” Kirishima’s fiancé Marina had always rubbed Bakugou the wrong way but even he couldn’t deny the fact that they were made for each other. That fact aside, he still refused to call her by name. 
 “Speaking of little ladies…” The redhead smirked, before playing his card down on the pile. “Bakugou! Would you be so kind as to give us an update on your mystery woman?”
It had been a few days since Bakugou and Jada’s date.  The blonde couldn’t deny the chemistry between them, but he was resigned to keep things casual for now. Love and hero work just didn’t mix. It’s only a distraction and gives your enemies something to use against you. Even so, he couldn’t get the dark-skinned beauty out of his mind ever since he first laid his eyes on her.
“Mystery woman?” Kaminari questioned as he played a draw 2 card. “The one he ditched us for on Mina’s birthday?”
“The one and the same,” Kirishima smirked, turning toward his friend. “Spill dude.” 
Bakugou scoffed, playing his turn. “I don’t kiss and tell boys.”
 “Boo you whore!” Kaminari laughed. 
“We need to know more about the chick that effectively pulled you out of the booty call business.” Sero pushed as he took a drink of his beer.
 I’m pretty sure I’m her booty call. But not for long. “I don’t owe you guys shit.”
“Can we get a name a least?”
“It’s Jada!” Kirishima confessed with a toothy grin.
 “Jada!” Kaminari cooed. “First name basis already?! Things are getting serious!”
Bakugou only shrugged, drinking his beer. “She’s American so... not really.”
 “Oh American!” Sero quirked a brow, laying down his card. “Taking a page out of Todoroki’s book, huh?” He smirked, sure he’d get a rise out his friend.
“I’m nothing like fucking Half n Half!” The ash-blonde barked.
“You don’t know what you’re missing with these American girls, Sero.” Kirishima smiled, laying down a wild card.  “They’re so bold. Jada certainly isn’t letting Bakugou off easy. Oh, and I pick Blue.” 
“Ooof I love it when they play hard to get,” The electric hero groaned, biting his lip. “Only makes me want them more.”
“We know.” The rest of the gang deadpanned. 
Sero shook his head as Kaminari played a reverse card. “You went after Jiro for a solid 3 years before you got wise.”
“Oh, Jiro…,” Denki sighed lovingly. “The one that got away. I really thought we had an unspoken thing.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes with a grunt. “She was fucking gay you twat!” 
“Well, I know that now! Also, can we talk about how hot she and YaoMomo are together? I mean damn.”
 “I thought we were grilling Bakugou?” Kirishima interjected, playing a draw 4 card.
“Yeah,” Sero agreed, picking up his cards before playing his turn. “You’re not off the hook yet. Tell us!” 
“Fuckin weirdos.” Bakugou hummed, leaning back in his chair. He never liked to talk about his exploits but he took pity on the guys. He was the only one of them actually dating besides Kirishima and his almost married stories were just a mushy love fest. “You know I only like the best so…” He smirked, looking around the room as his friends waited in anticipation. “She has this crazy body… like stacked. Legs for days. Piercings. Green eyes and smooth dark skin…” 
“American and Black?” Kaminiari interrupted. “I sense a pattern here.” Sero shushed him, urging Bakugou to continue.
“She’s smart too. She fixed my gauntlet with just tools in her purse,” He chuckled, remembering her tinkering on his gauntlet with ease. “She’s unpredictable. Whenever I think she’s gonna go right, she goes left. It drives me fucking crazy but there’s something about her.” He paused, stroking the stubble of his beard as he mumbled. “She’s just different.” 
The room fell silent as they looked at their explosive friend in awe until Kirishima finally said what they all were thinking. “Dude. You’re gushing. Like actually gushing about a girl.” He paused as a huge grin pulled at his lips. “You’re catching feelings!”
“The fuck I am!”
“Yes, you are! Ask me how I know.”
“I swear to God if you bring up Marina again I will--”
“You just called her Marina!” Kirishima laughed as his friend let loose a small explosion in his hardened face. 
“Don’t be shy, dude,” Sero teased.  “It’s about time actually. We were getting worried about you.”
“Shut up!” Bakugou grumbled. “Let’s get back to the game.”
“Okay, let’s hurry this up because I’m ready to move onto phase two of the night,” Kaminari said as he played another reverse card. 
“What’s phase two?” The redhead asked as he played a reverse card back to Kaminari.
“It’s a surprise!”
“I’m probably gonna hate it but fine.” Bakugou huffed.
“Uno!” The electric hero cheered as he played yet another reverse card.
“Fuck!” Bakugou yelled as he looked over to his guilty-looking redheaded friend. “Shitty hair if you play another reverse I’m going to reverse your existence.”
“I’m sorry! That’s all I can play!” He grimaced as he laid down the card.
“And a wild card for the win!” Kaminari boasted, laying down his last card. “Fork it over bitches!”
The men all groaned as they took out their wallets, each tossing 10k yen onto the table. “Why were we playing and betting on fucking Uno anyway?” Bakugou mumbled.
“Because Denki doesn’t know how to play poker.” Sero huffed.
Kirishima chuckled. “Well, it worked out fine for him I guess…”
“Okay, it’s time for phase two!” Kaminari said as he pocketed the money. “We’re going to the strip club! I’m gonna take your money and make it rain!“
__________________________________________________________________________
Filing out of the uberX, the boys made their way to a seemingly everyday luxury building, Denki talking over his shoulder, “Guys you are going to love this place. It’s called The Secret Garden. Super classy and discrete.”
Sero laughed as he pulled out his ID, walking up to the bouncer at the door. “Dude all I need to know is are the girls hot?”
“Well duh.” The electric hero chuckled. “My girl Tiffany can throw it back.”
 “I should probably call Marina and tell her the change of plans,” Kirishima mumbled apologetically as he took out his cell phone.
“Heh. Pussy.” Bakugou jeered as his friend stepped away to call his fiancé. 
It was then that Kaminari looked amongst his friends as they all took turns showing their IDs. “Everybody’s got cash money, right? The ladies do not take cards. I found that out the hard way.” With an affirmation from the rest of the crew, Kirishima returned to the group, pocketing his cell phone. 
“What did Fish Sticks say?” Bakugou asked the redhead with a smug smirk. “Do you have to go crawling back home with your dick between your legs?”
“She’s cool,” he shrugged. “She said I could browse the menu as long as I don’t order anything.” 
“No lap dances for you then.” Sero laughed.
 “That’s cool,” Denki said with a bright smile, leading everyone inside. “The main stage is where the best girls dance anyway.”
As the men made their way up to the mainstage of the club, Bakugou took a moment to gauge his surroundings. There was mellow house music pumping through the speakers has men and even a few women sat around in comfy chairs as gorgeous scantily clad women danced sensually on top of them or just talked with them seemingly enjoying their company. Strip clubs always made Bakugou vaguely uncomfortable but he couldn’t put his finger on just why. Maybe it was just the very public nature of traditionally intimate activities. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no way he was going to be seen as the prude of the group. 
The group of friends all sat down around the edge of the main stage, each pulling out a healthy wad of cash to prepare for their first dance. Denki however, took it a step further as per usual. The hero pulled out a money gun, eagerly loading it up with his Uno winnings from earlier that night. As the others rolled their eyes at their eccentric friend, a petite pink-haired woman dressed in a frilly lace baby doll set walked up to the man with a sweet smile. “Mr. Kaminari welcome back! It’s been so long since you last came to play with us.” Sakura cooed as she batted her lashes. 
“Princess! Good to see you! I’m sorry it’s been a while. Duty calls.” Denki smirked as he flexed his biceps, not so subtly. “Tiffany should be performing on the main stage tonight, right?”
“Umm, how many times have you been here?” Kirishima whispered to his electric friend.
“Sorry hun,” Sakura apologized. “She called in sick tonight. But my girl Nubia is about to go on. She always puts on an amazing show.” 
“Nubia, huh?” Denki hummed as he scratched his chin. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of watching her dance. This should be fun!”
Bakugou sighed as he stood up from his seat. “I’m gonna go get a beer.” The man made his way back to the bar, the bartender taking his order as the lights on the mainstage went out, a woman crossing the floor. He hummed as he paid for his drink taking a sip as the MC’s voice rang through the speakers.
“Welcome back to the main stage our exotic beauty and tonight your faithful assistant, Nubia!”
As the lights lifted, Bakugou watched from the bar as the dancer stood on stage, her back to the audience. Dressed in tight office attire, she tossed random papers into the air as James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s World” played throughout the club. (https://youtu.be/ilMV5tu9bcQ)
And then she turned around. 
No. Fucking. Way. The explosive hero nearly choked on his beer as he stared. He knew those dark locs and green eyes anywhere. The woman on stage was in fact, Jada Jackson. 
He continued to watch from afar as she twirled around the pole to the music, slowly peeling off articles of clothing until she was left in a silver bra and thong set. He clenched his fists as he seethed watching her long legs wave in the air, her curves on full display. This can’t be happening. Bakugou willed himself to stay calm as his friends cheered her on, cursing under his breath as she finally rid herself of her metallic bra, leaving her chest bare to the world. It was then that Jada crawled across the stage floor, right up to his friends staring in awe. 
Jada smirked as she went up to the blonde who had been very enthusiastic, shooting yen bills onto the stage with his money gun. Kaminari practically drooled as his eyes flicked from her full breasts to her green eyes and back again, “Good God, where have you been all my life?”
“Waiting for you, sweetheart,” Jada breathed as she moved her body seductively, her eyes flicking to the large wad of cash in his hand. “Is that for me?”
“Uh-huh!”
“Then slide it in, baby.” She smirked as she stretched out the band of her thong. Denki eagerly slipped the stack of bills into the band as she let out a lewd moan followed by a delighted giggle. “I love a nice thick one.” 
Denki gulped, exploring all the possibilities in his mind. “Let me take you away from all this…” 
Next, Jada turned her gaze to Sero, a nervous smile plastered across his face. “Look at that smile. Aren’t you a cutie.”
“T-thank you, ma’am.” He stuttered as he put his cash tip into her thong band as well.
“So polite. Thank you, sir.” Jada gave him a wink before crawling over to her next target, Kirishima. She giggled to herself as she knelt on her knees before him, his eyes refusing to look anywhere below her neck. “Someone looks a little shy.”
“Heh yeah… maybe a bit.” He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck timidly. 
“Relax, honey. I don’t bite.” She purred as Kirishima laughed, showing off his pointy pearly whites. “Oh. But maybe you do.” Jada breathed as she came up with an idea. “I think I’d like these chompers right… here.” Just then, the ravenette grabbed his head, pulling his face into her large breasts, giving them a shimmy for added effect. 
THE FUCK?! Bakugou couldn’t believe his eyes. He silently seethed as he chugged his beer. Here was his girl, the woman he had invested so much time and energy on, and his friends are ogling her freely. His palms popped and sparked as he crushed his beer can in his fist as Jada finished her dance, collecting her clothes and tips before disappearing into the back. The hero stomped back up to the stage with his eyes filled with rage, Denki taking notice of his friend.
“Dude! You missed the whole dance! I think I just met my future wife.”
“Shut the fuck up Kaminari.” Bakugou practically spat, as he walked up to another dancer. “Oi! The girl that was just on stage. When is she coming back out?”
The woman looked him up and down before giving the hero a playful smirk. “You want a dance, baby? I’d be happy to help you out.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He said dismissively. “When is Ja- Nubia coming back out?”
“I’ll go get her.”
The dancer turned on her heel with a sigh before walking backstage and into the dressing room. “Hey, Jada?” She looked around the small crowded area quickly finding the dark-skinned beauty amongst her fairer colleagues. 
“Yeah?” She asked as she fixed her makeup. 
“You got a request for a dance.”
“Really?” Jada mumbled, a smile pulling at her plump lips.  “Must be my lucky night. I got some great tippers stageside tonight. Was it the skinny blonde one with the black streak in his hair?”
“No it was a blonde but he had a spikey undercut… super buff too.” The dancer hummed as she played with her hair. “Nasty attitude though so I would be careful. Should I tell Tanaka to keep an eye on him?”
“NO!” Jada yelled before quickly recovering, “Um I mean, I got it. I’ll be right out, just let me change into a new set.”
After quickly changing into a new navy bra and pantie set, Jada nervously made her way back onto the club floor, praying to whoever would listen. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. She held her breath as she looked around the room, a pair of ruby red eyes locking with hers instantly. Fuck it is him. Her heart dropped into her stomach as the ash-blonde walked up to her, practically steaming. “Hi handsome, you want a dance?”
“You’re just gonna act like everything’s fine? Really?” Bakugou fumed. “Were you ever gonna tell me?!”
“Okay! Sounds like you want a private dance! Follow me to the champagne room, sir.”
With a flip of her long dark locs, Jada led Bakugou out across the floor, his friends quickly taking notice. He ignored their cheers for what they thought would be a seductive dance at his request. Instead, their hoots and hollers only fueled his rage even more. Once inside the ultra-private champagne room, Jada was the first one to speak. “I can explain.”
“This should be rich, Dimples.”
 “This is only temporary.”
 “Temporary?” He scoffed as he crossed his muscular arms.
“Yes!” Even she knew she didn’t sound very convincing. 
Bakugou laughed, rolling his eyes. “I swear to God if you tell me you’re only doing this to pay for law school or some bullshit like that--”
“I’m doing this to pay for a number of things that I’m not at liberty to discuss with you. And frankly, I don’t owe you shit!”
 “Well, you’re so full of shit that you must have plenty to go around!”
Jada bit her lip as she let out a deep sigh. She really didn’t think she was going to have this conversation with him this soon if ever. “Look, I have to make a living, same as everybody else. When YOU go to the strip club someone has to dance for you. So obviously you were okay with that arrangement as long as your girl wasn’t on stage.”
“I didn’t want to fucking come! The point is you fucking lied to me!”
“I never lied to you.”
 “You didn’t tell me the whole truth!”
“You didn’t ask the right questions.”
 Bakugou groaned as he raked his hand through his hair, exasperated. “Fuck! I can’t believe you actually had me bragging to my boys about you. Me! Bakugou fucking Katsuki gushing over a woman.” The hero was so furious he was shaking. In fact, he was more than furious, he was embarrassed. “I sang your praises to my friends only for you to turn around and take your clothes off for them!” He laughed as he shook his head in disgust. “Oh, and you let my best friend motorboat you too. Can’t forget that.”
 The ravenette paused, taking a step back, turning her eyes away from his burning gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. You and friends came here to be entertained and I delivered.”
 “I’m a Pro Hero for fucks sake!” Bakugou yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “I can’t date a stripper. Not knowing any extra off the street with a yen can see your goods.”
Jada paused, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction, but she didn’t expect the bite of his words to cut her so deep. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you were a bad idea. “Well, let me rid you of that problem. You won’t be seeing me anymore.” She said coldly before holding her hand out to him. “That’s 55,000 yen for the dance.”
“What?!” He barked in confusion.
“The champagne room is super private and luxurious. No cameras so as to not hurt your precious image.” She hissed as her nose began to tingle. “It costs more and my boss is expecting a cut.” Don’t you fucking do it, Jada. You will not cry in front of him. “I know you’re good for it so let’s not drag this out.”
The blonde scoffed, digging into this pants pocket to pull out his wallet. “I can’t believe I have to pay for a fucking fight,” he mumbled, taking out a wad of cash.  “You didn’t even dance…”
“Yeah but like you said…” Jada said as she snatched the money from his hand. “Your boys enjoyed the show, didn’t they?”
To stop himself from completely losing his cool, Bakugou pushed past the woman and stomped back out onto the club floor. He sulked up to his group of friends, now watching a new dancer on stage. Kirishima was the first one to spot him, immediately noticing his abnormally hostile energy and his overly red face. 
“Whoa! Where’s the fire, bro?”
“We’re leaving!” Bakugou bellowed, walking over to the door.
“Dude, what happened?” Sero asked as they all got up from their seats before following Bakugou out of the building. “Did you not like your dance? She was hot.”
“Did you like it a little too much?” Denki chuckled as he gave the ash-blonde a slap on the back. “Cuz I mean I wouldn’t blame ya. That’s a meal I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“SHUT UP!” Bakugou yelled, punching his well-meaning friend in the face, his frustrations finally getting the better of him. Stumbling backward, Kaminari held his nose in his hands as he groaned in pain.
“Katsuki! What the fuck dude?!” Kirishima shouted as he steadied the electric hero. “What’s the matter with you?”
“That was her!” Bakugou boomed as he paced the sidewalk.
“Who?”
“Jada!”
The men all stared at Bakugou blankly, not understand who he meant. 
“The stripper…” he explained through gritted teeth. “Nubia. It’s fucking Jada!”
The group of friends all looked at each other in confusion until the reality of the situation finally clicked into place, all of them shouting at once, “FUCK!”
Meanwhile, inside the club, Jada left the champagne room with her head hung low as she silently counted the wad of cash from her almost beau. Eizan was right… I was stupid for even trying. With a sigh, she sauntered backstage to the dressing room, plopping down in her makeup chair. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice her best friend pull up a seat next to her. 
“Wow, girl look at that fat wad! What did you have to do to get that?” Sakura asked cheerfully.
“Nothing…” Jada breathed, putting the cash away for safekeeping.
“Sweetheart, why do you look so upset? What happened? Did that guy do something to you?” The pink-haired woman quickly looked her friend over for any marks or bruises, her concern growing.
“No, I'm fine.” Jada insisted as she touched up her makeup, taking special care that her eyeliner and mascara were still intact. “I just got a reality check is all.” 
Chapter 6 | Masterlist
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gingwrites · 3 years
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Here, Kitty, Kitty - Chapter 15
Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok (background: (future) vminkook and (established) namjin)
Summary: Yoongi is a famous rapper that is busy completing his latest album, so he’s basically living in his studio for a few days. Hoseok is a dancer that lives in the same building. They don’t know each other (Hoseok doesn’t even know Yoongi is famous), but Hoseok gets hired by Yoongi’s friend to feed Yoongi’s cat, and they start messaging with the excuse of updates on the kitty.
*Dates/times don’t matter; also, I’ve given up on like/retweet numbers*
A/N: This took a little longer than expected because I had so much trouble with the short concert scene. Who knows why though. But it’s finally here!! 
Series Masterlist | BTS Masterlist
“I still can’t believe you managed to get tickets to Agust D!” Hoseok gushed. He was over at Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment, getting ready for the show.
“Imagine how I feel!” Jungkook replied. “I’ve been his fan way longer than you have, and I’ve never seen him in concert either! I’m probably going to pass out at some point!”
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head.
“As long as you don’t pass out on top of me, then we’re good.”
Jungkook leaned over and smacked the older boy, who just giggled in response.
“Are y’all ready yet or what?” Taehyung spoke from the doorway. “I’m the model, so you’d think y’all wouldn’t take longer than me to get ready, but here we are!” 
“Excuse us for wanting to look good for Agust D!” Jungkook argued.
“Are you implying that I don’t look good?” Taehyung gasped, throwing a hand dramatically over his heart. 
Jungkook just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend and turned back to the mirror where he was putting the finishing touches on his makeup.
“Are you sure Agust D is the only person you hope to look good for?” Hoseok caught Jungkook’s eyes in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows.
Smacking the other boy for the second time of the night, Jungkook scoffed.
“No! Just for Agust D!”
Now it was Taehyung’s turn to scoff.
“That’s not true. You haven’t stopped talking, or flirting, with Jimin since he saw your dance video! Even I’m a little excited to see him,” Taehyung said, smiling at his boyfriend.
“So, what’s new with you and cat boy?” Jungkook asked, not so subtly changing the subject.
Hoseok glanced over, eyebrows raised, but took the bait anyway.
���Oh, nothing new,” Hoseok lied. 
He knew his friends would be super excited to hear that he had a date with Yoongi tomorrow (and that he’d seen his face), but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell them just yet.
One, it was the night of the concert, and Hoseok knew how excited Jungkook was. He didn’t want to steal the thunder. Truth be told, Hoseok was also super excited to see Agust D since he first listened to his new album not that long ago.
And two, Hoseok just wanted to have Yoongi to himself for a little bit, especially since it was all so new. He loved Jungkook and Taehyung to death, and they were his best friends, but they had a tendency to be super involved, especially when it came to his love life. Hoseok wanted to see where things with Yoongi would go before breaking the news.
“Maybe that will change soon. You never know!” Jungkook said with a knowing smirk on his face. Hoseok just laughed and shook his head. If only he knew.
“The stage is all set up and we’re good to go!” Yoongi’s stage manager said, looking up from her clipboard. Yoongi nodded and thanked her before she turned to head out the dressing room door.
The show was set to start in about an hour, and Yoongi was ready to go, hair, makeup, and outfit already done. He would’ve loved to take a nap on the small couch in the dressing room, but one, his stylist would probably yell at him if he messed up his hair or smudged his makeup, and two, it would be impossible with Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin all crowding the small room.
“Are you excited, Yoongi?” Jimin asked, falling onto the couch beside the rapper.
“You know, it’s not like this is my first show or anything,” Yoongi said, turning to Jimin to give him a face. Jimin had been acting weird since he first made the suggestion to hold the show, and Yoongi wanted to get to the bottom of it.
Yoongi turned away and looked across the room at where Namjoon and Seokjin were sitting on the other couch, practically sitting in each other's lap with how close they were sitting. Yoongi would bet that the building could burn down and they wouldn’t even notice with how invested they were in each other. Yoongi was just glad they weren’t making out.
“Hey, this is your first show since you released your album! You never know what might happen! Maybe something that will change your life!” Jimin gushed, bouncing slightly up and down.
Yoongi turned back toward the idol, an incredulous look on his face.
“What is wrong with you? Did you do something?”
No!” Jimin was quick to reply. “I didn’t do anything! I’m just excited! You know this isn’t my normal kind of show or music genre, so I can’t wait!” 
Yoongi still didn’t quite believe it, but he accepted the answer.
Luckily, the next hour passed by quickly, Jimin finally leaving him alone to go play on his phone, while Yoongi was able to close his eyes just for a few moments to think about the upcoming show.
Five minutes before the start of the show, the stage manager poked her head back into the dressing room.
“Let’s go!” she called before heading back out.
Yoongi quickly got up and smoothed out his outfit before taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror and heading out the door.
“Good luck!” he heard Seokjin call before the door clicked shut.
Yoongi quickly made his way over to the stage manager, reaching into his pocket to connect the final wires to his mic pack. He was handed his microphone from a stagehand, and then ushered to the stairs to the stage.
“Ten seconds!” the manager called.
Yoongi slowly made his way up the stairs, hearing the screams from the auditorium already. Yoongi felt full of adrenaline, ready to start the show.
“Five, four, three, two, one!” 
Let’s do this! Yoongi thought before stepping onto the last step.
A hush fell over the crows as the stage lights lowered and the first notes of the song started. Hoseok was buzzing with excitement, Jungkook literally bouncing up and down next to him. 
A figure stepped out on stage as the spotlights moved toward him. The crowd started screaming, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Taehyung joining in, as the rapper started up the first song.
Hoseok was in awe. Agust D’s stage presence was amazing. The rapper was spitting fire, all while moving around the stage to the beat, keeping the crowd engaged, even while having half his face covered with a baseball cap.
The song continued, Hoseok rapping along with him, jumping up and down with Jungkook.
“Seoul!” Agust D yelled as the song ended. “How’re we doing tonight?”
The crowd screamed in response, Hoseok joining along. Agust D then reached up and took his cap off, throwing it to the side. He then ran a hand through his hair.
Hoseok froze.
He knew the hair. He knew that face. He might have only seen the full thing a few times, but he knew that face.
Yoongi was Agust D. Yoongi was Agust D. What the hell? There was no way! How was that even possible?
Maybe I would have figured it out sooner if I had let Jungkook give me his PowerPoint, Hoseok thought wryly.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook leaned over and yelled in his ear. The next song had started, and Hoseok was still frozen in place, standing out in the crowd that was jumping along to the beat.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Hoseok yelled back over the music. There was no possible way that Jungkook could know what was happening. Hoseok had only seen Yoongi’s face this week and hadn’t told his friends it had happened. He didn’t want to freak out and ruin the concert for Jungkook, so he lied to his friend for the second time that night.
Jungkook nodded in acceptance and turned back toward the stage. Knowing there was nothing he could do about it now, though Yoongi would be getting a string of texts from Hoseok after the show, Hoseok let the music wash over him and concentrated back on the concert.
The rest of the show passed without incident. When Jimin came out on stage, Hoseok snuck a look over at his friends and saw hearts in their eyes. Anybody could tell they were so gone for the idol.
“Thank you, everybody! I hope you enjoyed the show! Stay safe getting home, and I’ll see you next time!” Yoongi called before bowing and turning to run off stage.
The auditorium lights brightened, the crowd chattering away while making their way toward the exit.
“So,” Hoseok turned to Jungkook. “How was your first Agust D concert?”
His friend was still sitting in his seat, eyes glued to his phone.
“Jungkook? Did you hear me?”
Taehyung leaned over and lightly pushed his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Huh?” Jungkook asked, looking up with wide eyes.
“I asked, how was your first Agust D concert?” Hoseok repeated. He was a little shocked that Jungkook would be so glued to his phone right now when the concert had ended. He had expected a nonstop stream of gushing the entire way home from the other boy.
“Oh, sorry. It was great. Now, come on, I have a surprise for you,” Jungkook replied, jumping up and grabbing Taehyung’s and Hoseok’s hands before leading them off to the side to a door that said ‘Staff Only.’
Still shocked at Jungkook’s lackluster answer, Hoseok let himself be dragged along. He looked over at Taehyung, who just had a smile on his face. If he didn’t seem worried about what was happening, Hoseok wouldn’t be either.
The three boys stopped in front of the security guard stationed outside the door. Jungkook let go of the others’ hands and quickly pulled out his wallet to show his ID to the burly man.
The guard took a quick look at it before nodding and stepping out of the way. Jungkook stuffed his wallet back into his pocket and grabbed Hoseok by the arm, pulling him through the now open door.
“What is happening, Jungkook?” Hoseok asked as they stepped backstage. He had no idea why the security guard seemed to know to allow Jungkook backstage, and why Jungkook was even allowed backstage in the first place. This seemed like something he would have told Hoseok and Taehyung the second it happened.
“I told you, I have a surprise,” Jungkook replied, still not clearing up anything. 
The younger boy pulled Hoseok forward down the hallway, glancing down at his phone when it buzzed in his hand.
“There you are!” a voice called from down the hallway. Quick footsteps made their way toward the group, and when the figure got close enough for Hoseok to make out the facial features, he gasped.
“Park Jimin?”
“That’s me!” the idol chirped. 
“What- how- huh?” Hoseok managed to get out.
“This is part of the surprise, hyung!” Jungkook squeezed the arm he still had in his hands. “And it’s partly for me and Taehyung as well.” 
Hoseok looked over at his friend, who he could’ve sworn was blushing, still confused as to what was happening.
“Come on, I have someone I want you to meet,” Jimin smiled, turning and walking back down the hallway from where he came, the others following behind.
Jimin stopped in front of a door labeled ‘Dressing Room’ and knocked on the door.
Hoseok heard a muffled what do you want now, Jimin through the door before said man pushed the door open.
“Is that any way to treat the man that is about to change your life?” Jimin fake gasped. The group made their way inside the room, Hoseok the last to cross the threshold. 
The room was small, but had a few couches, a mirror with a chair in front of it for what looked like makeup, and a clothing rack in the corner. What really stood out to Hoseok, though, was the man with the bright blond hair sitting on one of the couches, playing on his phone, still sweaty from the show he just performed.
That little piece of… Hoseok thought. He had all this planned! He knew! He fucking knew Yoongi was Agust D and didn’t say anything! I can’t believe the nerve of him! No wonder he didn’t want me finding out what Agust D looked like before the concert.
“What are you talking about, Jimin?” Yoongi asked, not looking up from his phone.
If Jungkook knew beforehand that his Yoongi was Agust D, Hoseok knew he must’ve had a plan to surprise the two men with each other, and from the looks of it, Jimin and Taehyung were in on the plan.
Before Jimin could reply, Hoseok beat him to it, wanting to get back at them a little for planning this all behind his back.
“Is that any way to greet the man you have a date with tomorrow?” Hoseok quickly said, heart racing. He didn’t dare look over at Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook yet.
Yoongi’s head shot up, eyes wide.
“Date?”
“Who has a date?”
“Since when do you have a date?”
“You knew?”
“I’m so confused.”
“Wait, hold up, he still hasn’t answered: date?”
Hoseok ignored the commotion coming from the three youngest boys in the room and made his way over toward the couch.
Yoongi quickly stood up, throwing his phone off to the side.
“Hoseok? What are you doing here?” Yoongi asked.
“I think we should ask those little meddlers over by the door,” Hoseok turned and pointed to the three boys, who had finally stopped spouting questions and now looked gobsmacked. “I think they had a little something to do with me being here. And I think they should explain. Now.”
Taehyung at least had the decency to look sheepish and ashamed, while Jimin and Jungkook still looked shocked.
“Can someone please explain to me? Date? You two have a date? Since when? Why didn’t you tell us? How dare you!” Jungkook burst out. 
Yoongi sat back down on the couch, Hoseok following him and sitting next to him. The other three made their way to the other couch and sat down.
“I’ll explain once you explain,” Hoseok deadpanned, glaring at Jungkook. He wasn’t really mad at his friend, but he was a little offended that the other boy hadn’t told him he knew. But then again, Hoseok really could talk much since he had been keeping things from his friends as well.
Jungkook started his explanation, starting at when Jimin saw his tweet about the dance video. Jimin took over when they got to the part of the story when Jungkook figured out that Hoseok was cat sitting Agust D’s cat. Jimin went on to explain his plan to get Hoseok and Yoongi together “since you two love birds obviously liked each other, but couldn’t make the move to ask one another out, but apparently we were way off base with that one.”
“Now it’s your turn!” Jungkook said once their story was finished, bouncing up and down so much Hoseok was afraid he was going to fall off. “Since when do you have a date? And since when did you know Yoongi was Agust D? Spill! I need details!”
Now their turn to tell a story, Hoseok told the other three about Yoongi finally showing his face in a selfie and how the other boy had asked him out. Yoongi was also curious to know when Hoseok figured out he was Agust D, which Hoseok explained was literally an hour before when the concert started. That made the rapper feel a lot better, glad that Hoseok hadn’t lied to him about knowing who he was.
“Well, I’m glad we got to see each other in person, even though we still have our date tomorrow,” Yoongi said, grabbing ahold of Hoseok’s hand. “We still have a date tomorrow, right?”
Hoseok quickly looked over at the other man and squeezed his hand. 
“Of course we still have a date tomorrow! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Hoseok reassured.
Yoongi smiled at him and Hoseok felt his heart skip a beat. He has the prettiest freaking smile in the world. I could stare at him all day.
“Well, I guess we’ll be leaving you two alone now,” Jimin said, pulling Jungkook and Taehyung off the couch and out the door.
Before the door slammed shut behind them, Hoseok heard a don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! from Jungkook, which he rolled his eyes at. 
“So,” Yoongi started, settling back into the couch, pulling Hoseok closer to him, their hands still linked. “You know, since those three meddled in our love life, maybe we should meddle in their love life and get the three of them together.”
“I like the way you think, Min Yoongi.”
Let me know what you think!! There will probably only be one or two more parts after this! Ahh!
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Away From the Edge Part 2
Summary: Luca admonishes the 118 and part of Buck's past is revealed.
Trigger Warning: Attempted Suicide Mention, Mentioned child and human trafficking, and mentioned child death. Homophobic bullying mentioned but not towards Buck, Luca, or Carlos.
A/N: This is where the Rizzoli & Isles characters come in but only through text and a phone call.
Luca paced in the ER waiting room waiting for any news on his husband. His mind a mess of Why’s and What if’s. Why hadn’t he come to him about feeling this way? What was the cause? Why did know one notice or if they had why hadn’t they helped? What if he hadn’t been there to talk his husband down? What if he had been too late and Buck jumped anyway? He’s brought out of his thoughts and halts in pacing when his phone rings. He curses softly at the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Ma.” He says resuming his pacing. “I heard you were surprising Evan. How’d it go?” He can hear the happiness in her voice despite her calling his husband by his first name. It was something she did with all her children’s significant others. He takes a breath before coming mostly clean. He never lied to his family just sometimes omitted things if he thought it would make his ma worry more than necessary.
“I didn’t get the chance to surprise him. At least not how I wanted to. I’m in the ER waiting room.” He says wincing at the sharp intake of breath. “What happened? Is anyone hurt? I’m-”He cuts off her rambling knowing that she was about to say that she was catching the first available flight out of Boston that she could. “No, Ma. You don’t need to come all the way out here. I’ll tell you when I know anything.” He leaves out the fact that Buck had tried to kill himself. “Alright, call me when you know something.” She demands before they end the call. He then pulls up the group chat for his siblings besides the ones in Austin. He debates on just messaging his siblings individually leaving his twin sister out of it. She didn’t need any more stress especially if the IVF treatments worked and she was carrying either Buck’s baby with her or his sister Sofia’s egg or his baby with Buck’s sister Maddie’s egg. He decides against leaving her out of the loop knowing that she’d find out somehow.
Luca: Buck tried to kill himself. At hospital waiting to see him. Think he’s only suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. Let you know more when I do.
The responses are almost instantaneous.
Frankie: What happened?
Jane: Is this why Ma called me worried?
Tommy: Is he alright?
He doesn’t get a reply from his twin though.
Luca: He was going to jump from a bridge. Not sure why yet. Might be because of how his team was treating him after the lawsuit. Yes, don’t tell Ma, Jane. Please.
Jane: I won’t little brother. Me and Frankie are working a case or we’d be hopping on a plane.
Tommy: I’d be on a plane but the airport is closed because of the hurricane.
Luca: It’s alright. Good Luck with your case and Tommy for the love of god please be careful.
He finally gets a text from his sister but not in the group chat.
Ilaria: On way. Picking up Carlos. Already told him. See you in a few hours. I’ve got news.
He doesn’t get a chance to reply before he has another incoming call. It’s Carlos. He knows there’s a good chance that he might finally breakdown when he takes the call. “Lu.” The concern in his brother’s voice has him stumbling into one of the waiting room chairs. “I almost lost him ‘los. He was ready to jump.” His voice breaks as tears finally start to trail down his cheeks. “I’ll be there soon, pequeño.” His brother reassures. “You have work and what about TK? He’s still recovering.” He protests even though he wants nothing more than his brother here with him or even Judd. “Luca, I am more than fine recovering by myself.” He hears TK yell and he chuckles a little. “Are you at the station?” He asks spotting Maddie and the 118 is behind her his lip curls a little at the sight of them and he feels his posture change straightening in the chair. “Yeah, here’s Judd.” Carlos says not even having to have him ask and he hears shuffling over the phone. “Hey brother, you doin’ ok? Heard you just got back.” His friend’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. “Yeah, thought I’d surprise him. I’m honestly barely holding it together. They had to sedate him because he wouldn’t let go of me and I’m not allowed in the room with him. He fought the sedative Judd. He looked so afraid to let me out of his sight. Like if he gave in and fell asleep, he’d wake up and I’d be gone. The sound that left him when they finally got him off me was something I don’t ever want to hear again.” He hears Judd let out a harsh breath. They both had seen people fight against sleep whether from exhaustion, medication, or from losing consciousness. In their experience it was for one of three things, sometimes more than one of the three. The first being that they are trying to protect someone or something. Second being fear that if they succumb to that feeling they won’t wake up and the third being nightmares or fear of waking up back inside a trauma. Mostly seen with soldiers but some people on the more traumatic calls did it.
He hears the bell ring for a call. “I gotta go but you better keep me updated.” Judd’s voice is harder now no longer holding its previous softness. “I will.  Maddie’s here and so is his crew.” He says hanging up. He stands pocketing his phone and Maddie throws her arms around him. He holds her awkwardly for a few moments before wrapping his arms around her letting her sob against him. His eyes scan the members of the 118 falling on the Asian man whose eyes held a hint of jealousy. He could see that all of them were tense and displayed various ranges of guilt. “I’m sorry.” She tells him spotting the wet patch on his shirt from her tears. He just shrugs her concern off. It wasn’t the worst bodily fluid he’d had staining his shirts. “It’s fine, Maddie.” He tells her and she nods. “Any news?” He shakes his head. “No, probably won’t be for a while. They had to sedate him, and he fought it so they ended up giving him another dose. He’ll be out for a while and then they’ll want to do a psych eval. We might not even get to see him depending on how long they want to hold him.” He tells her truthfully. “Why did they have to sedate him.” He eyes the brown eyed man taking in his posture. Clearly military and that makes his blood burn even more. This must be Eddie. The army medic and his husband’s supposed best friend.
“He refused to let go of me and he fought the sedative.” He can see a look of realization cross the man’s features. Eddie probably associated that with the same things that he and Judd did. “Someone better tell me why you all decided to treat my husband like he was no longer a part of your family and like shit to the point that he was afraid to let me out of his sight. Like I would vanish if he closed his eyes.” He tried to keep his voice level but the thought of these people who were in a profession where your coworkers become your family has it rising slightly. Eddie is the one who speaks up clenching his hands and stepping closer. “He sued us.” Is what Eddie snaps out clearly angered by what happened still. “No, he sued the department because his Captain let his personal feelings cloud his judgement and lied to him about who didn’t want him back.” He feels a sense of pride when they turn their gaze to their Captain. “Either way that does not give you the right to abuse and ostracize one of your own. That is an abuse of power on your part Captain.” Captain Nash looks away in shame and guilt. He turns to Henrietta someone who he had heard good things about an knew his next words were going to be a low blow, but she needed the warning in case something did happen. “What happens when this gets out? What’s going to happen to your children. Did you think about them before you acted?” Hen recoils and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t and I’m sorry.” She is sincere with her words and he knows that she hadn’t joined in on the abuse and belittling of his husband, but she didn’t speak up either. He skips over the Asian man letting Maddie deal with her boyfriend and turns back to his husband’s best friend.
“You were his best friend. The one who promised to have his back. Something I appreciated since, God knows, my husband gets himself into all kinds of trouble. You took Christopher away from him and told him he had abandoned him. Like he wasn’t trying to see him or help him out. That man loves your son like he was his own and you took that away.” He doesn’t realize he had started to yell until Maddie places her hand on his shoulder and he sees that his outburst had drawn a few gazes of other occupants in the waiting room. He decides to give his husband’s team a little bit of his and his husband’s background. Buck could yell at him later, but he needed to get his point across. “Want to know why Buck’s so attached to your son? A mission overseas in Kandahar dealing with a human trafficking ring. Anywhere Buck went he befriended the local children. Would give them treats, tell them one of his endless facts, or showed them a game. We had liberated one compound finding it mostly empty but a few sick captives. One of the ones left behind was a deaf boy. He took an immediate liking to Buck despite his lack of ASL or BSL knowledge that I have. We had only been married for a year and a half but we wanted to adopt the boy. His name was Noah.” He tells them trying not to get lost in the memories of that mission. Not with how it ended.
“You said was.” Eddie says and he gives him a confused look. “You said his name was Noah not is. What happened? Did you decide not to adopt him, or did you find his parents?” Eddie continues and he can see the look of hope in his eyes. He clears his throat of the lump that had formed. He had only told Carlos, Judd, and Ilaria what had happened. “We had gotten the group back to base. We didn’t know it at the time but some of the traffickers had been soldiers at the base. When it came time to transport the group for better care a few days later they made themselves known. Buck had been carrying Noah who was no older than 7 when a sniper took a shot. Buck saw it at the last second and turned his body to shield Noah. The sniper was using HVAP rounds. The bullet went through Buck’s body and into Noah. It had pierced his heart and he bled out in Buck’s arms despite suffering a comminuted fracture of his collar bone he was the one who dug Noah’s grave. Noah would have been your son’s age.” He clears his throat again and Maddie wipes the tears from her face before handing him a bag. “It’s a change of clothes and I brought a charger.” He nods and heads to a bathroom to change. He changes quickly into the maroon sweatpants, grey t-shirt and sneakers before spotting the hoodie Maddie had packed. It was well worn and the rainbowed “Sorry, Girls I’m Gay.” had faded slightly. It was a gift he had gotten for Buck when they had first started dating as a joke. It was Buck’s favorite thing to wear when they lounged around.
He slips the hoodie on before packing his fatigues and boots into the bag. The hoodie was a little longer and wider in the shoulders since his husband was taller and a little broader than him. He steps out of the bathroom and heads back over to Maddie who was sitting away from the others. “Ilaria and Carlos are coming.” He tells her and she nods patting the seat beside her. They lean against each other as they wait.
He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until someone is shaking him awake. “Wake up little brother.” He groans green-grey eyes looking into an identical pair. “Ilaria?” He questions before the previous events flash through his mind and he’s sitting up. “Yeah, little brother.” She says and he looks around spotting his brother who’s talking with a doctor and pointing to him. “We’re the same age.” He says pulling a laugh out of his sister. “I’m older.” She says and he shakes his head. “By like 15 minutes.” He says standing and walking over to Carlos and the doctor while Ilaria takes his spot next to Maddie. “Hey.” He hates how his voice comes out soft. “Hey, pequeño.” He watches the doctor leave and gives his brother a questioning look. Carlos motions for him to follow him down a hall. “They’re keeping him for the full 72 hours but he should be able to go home after. You can stay with him. The doctor said it’s probably for the best when I explained what Judd explained to me.” Carlos hasn’t pulled him in for a hug knowing his boundaries with touching. “How he…How he was..” He can’t even get the words out before tears are failing down his face and he’s burrowing his head into his brother’s chest. He feels Carlos wrap his arms around him whispering soothing words in Spanish.
After a few minutes his breathing returns to normal and his tears stop. He pulls back and drags his hands across his face to wipe away the tears. “Room 1236. I’ll go inform the others and attempt damage control with your twin.” Carlos tells him pulling a small laugh from him. His twin was most likely already on the war path. She could be vengeful and petty when it came to those she loved being wronged. He nods and heads to the room knocking on the door frame to alert the person watching over his husband that he was there. The older man motions for him to come in.
“They said he’d be out for a few more hours. I’m Egil.” The man has a slight accent to his voice. It was one that he couldn’t place but was familiar. “I’m Luca.” He says sitting in the chair next to Buck’s bed and grab his hand. “He’s my husband. I’ve been overseas for the past few months.” He explains and the man nods. “You don’t mind that I’m in here do you?” Egil asks him and he shakes his head. “No, I don’t mind.” He says running his free hand through Buck’s hair. “I remember sitting where you were but instead of my husband it was my son.” Egil speaks up after a few moments and he turns his head to face him. “He was about 18 and close to graduating high school. He had a crush on one of the jocks. He had told his best friend who in turn told her boyfriend. The boyfriend was the jock’s best friend and so he wrote my son a note telling him to meet him behind the old movie theater by the school. I remember my son was so happy even though he was nervous as hell.” Egil has a sad but fond smile on his face. He could figure how this went. It was something that had happened to him but had ended with more than just teasing.
“His crush wasn’t there but the rest of the baseball and football teams were. The had thrown slurs at him and shoved him around before dumping him into the dumpster. He had smiled when he came home like nothing happened despite being covered in movie theater trash. He said he loved us like normal and headed up to bed.” Egil lets out a humorless laugh. “I figured something wasn’t right, but I figured he’d come to me. About half an hour or so later his best friend was calling and explained what happened. I went up to his room and he had hung himself. He wasn’t up there long and was revived in the ambulance.” He tightens his hold on Buck’s hand. Why was he telling him this? “In the hospital I sat with him like you. Then about 3 days after his attempt the jock comes in when I’m gone and sits with him.” He can’t help but ask “What did you do?” Now Egil has a full-on smile. “I watched them and saw how much that boy was in love with my son. He talked to him. Told him how sorry he was for what had happened. How when he woke up if he wanted, they could go out on a date.”
“Did he wake up?” He was slightly afraid to ask not sure if he truly wanted the answer. “Yes, and they went on that date. The baseball and football teams lost their most valuable player, and my son lost his best friend.” He was glad the story had a somewhat happy ending. “They got married about 6 years ago and are expecting their first child by surrogate.” Egil’s words make him think back to his sister. “My twin is helping us. She said she had news. Does it make me a bad person that a small part of me wants her not to be pregnant right now?” He asks and Egil shakes his head. “No, it’s understandable. You want to focus on your husband getting better but, I have a feeling that if your sister is pregnant, you would step-up despite the less-than-ideal circumstances. I’ll let you have a few hours of alone time with him. When you want to leave have the nurses at the nurses station call me.” Egil says before leaving shutting the door behind him. He lays his head down on the bed with a sigh. He was exhausted the 15 or so hour flight catching up to him. He promises himself just a few moments with his eyes closed.
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catboymingi · 3 years
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hurting - in this life and the next chap. 7
navi/masterlist
story masterlist
pairing: mingi x reader
genre: angst, a little bit of fluff; soulmates & reincarnation au
word count: 3.9k
warnings: dissociation resulting in some self harming behaviour (reader doesn’t realise she’s getting hurt - she’s not hurting on purpose), dealing with grief, insecurities
the realisation that someone wants your happiness more than their own can be a painful one
instead of doing anything yet, mingi decided to sleep. he wouldn’t be able to do anything right now anyway, since you were asleep, and maybe yunho had come up with a solution the next day. but it was hard, falling asleep, even though you were in his arms, because he had no idea if he should tell you about it or not. he didn’t want to make you feel like he only cared about that, about being soulmates, but he also cared about that - how could he not? it by far wasn’t his main reason for liking you, but he couldn’t deny that it did affect him. and even though he’d told you that yunho liked you, too, earlier, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt for him to think that you might choose his best friend over him, even though he deserved it. he was just anxious, overthinking, or maybe thinking just the right amount, and that made it hard to sleep.
though he did fall asleep, eventually, because he was with you right now and he was your friend and that thought calmed him down enough to enter the land of dreams.
//
of course you noticed that something was odd with mingi the next day, and you brought it up, but he told you that he just felt a little weird being like this with you, even when you were just friends, when he was still mourning. he also told you that he was worried about you, about how you were feeling, and spent another one or two hours with you before leaving to make sure you’d know he did care about you and your wellbeing. then he left, still seeming awkward, uncertain and anxious, and you texted yunho, who was still texting mingi and trying to come up with what to do, though you didn’t know that.
[y/n]: ask mingi to come over, i dont think hes okay rn
and yunho knew, of course he knew that mingi was far from okay, so of course he would do that.
[yunho]: will do. ill update you once i know more, okay?
he didn’t want to snitch on his friend, he didn’t want to do anything hasty, he wanted to find a solution with mingi before any decisions were made. but he also didn’t want you to worry too much, so this seemed like a good compromise. he just hoped they’d actually find a solution, because this situation wasn’t exactly an easy one.
but because you had no idea what was going on you just waited, though it lasted for exactly ten minutes before you got tired of it and too anxious to sit still and you went to the shelter, hoping to calm down a little. there you stayed for several hours, until mingi messaged you, asking where you were and if he could come over, saying he was feeling better now and apologising for his odd behaviour that morning.
and because you were too soft for him you immediately agreed, waiting at the shelter until he came over to spend time with you.
//
yunho had asked him to come over, and of course he would. he really wanted to know what to do, he wanted to know how to handle things, he wanted to not fuck up. he wanted to do things right this time, he didn’t want to lose you again.
“hey”, the blond said as he opened the door for mingi, who moved into the flat wordlessly, throwing himself on the sofa with a loud groan.
“i take you still haven’t told her?”, which made the groan louder and had his friend cover his face with his hands.
“i just don’t know if i should”, he almost whined out, so incredibly unsure about everything right now. he wanted to be with you, but he was scared that if he’d tell you about this latest development you’d think he only cared about you for this soulmate business, something that wasn’t the case. while he hadn’t entirely forgotten about it it wasn’t his main motivation, his motivation was wanting to get to know you and getting to be with you and, in part, showing you that you weren’t just a poor copy of whoever you used to be, showing you that you were worth being cherished the way you were now. and because he knew that you wouldn’t let him, these next words left his mouth, something he’d thought more than he’d like to admit.
“i think you should tell her how you feel. it wouldn’t surprise me if she likes you, too, with the way the two of you are always talking. she trusts you, and i know you wouldn’t hurt her. maybe that’s better.”
“are you… trying to set us up?”, yunho asked, confused by the brunette’s words because this was the last thing he’d expected.
“that sounds horrible. i just want her to be happy, you know? and i know you wouldn’t let anyone make her sad, not even me.”
while that was true yunho wouldn’t do this to mingi, even if he did like you - something he’d noticed, but that he’d just accepted as unrequited feelings, because it was so obvious that his friend still meant so much to you.
“i mean, yeah, but you like her, don’t you? you could make her happy, too, just get your shit together first.”
mingi sighed loudly, a long, pained, resigned sigh.
“that’s the thing. she deserves better, don’t you think? better than someone that keeps fucking up because of his own baggage. i can’t promise i won’t hurt her again, and i don’t want to risk that.”
this was so thoughtful of mingi and it showed his friend that he really was trying his best, that he really did care about you, and that he’d even put his own happiness back if it would make you happier. and because he cared so much yunho couldn’t do it, wouldn’t even consider it; maybe if mingi had ignored your feelings and his concerns and just thrown himself in head first yunho wouldn’t have had these hesitations, but because the slightly shorter man cared so much he couldn’t do that. and he told mingi that.
“she doesn’t even like me that way. trust me, she doesn’t”, when mingi was about to protest, “she cares about you. she just wants you to care about her, too. why else would she still give you a chance, hm? if she didn’t care you’d long be blocked, because, in all honesty, you’d deserve it.”
“i guess”, another loud sigh. “but i won’t tell her, not yet, at least. i don’t want to hurt her”, laying down on his stomach on the (too short) couch, almost slamming his head into a pillow in frustration because he had absolutely zero idea what to do. because he wanted to be with you but didn’t know how to go about that. because life kept making things hard for you when they’d just gotten even a little easier.
“maybe you should still text her, though. she worries.”
“mh. i think i’ll go home, i need some time to think. see you, yunho. and thank you.”
and then he left, went home and showered and realised he didn’t want you to worry at all even if he still felt unsure about things, so he texted you, asking to meet up again now to show things were still okay.
//
mingi looked like he’d cried and tried to hide it when he arrived, hair slightly wet from a shower you assumed he’d taken before he got there, eyes no longer red but still slightly puffy. you had no idea what had happened, but all you could imagine was that he felt guilty because he’d told you he liked you even when it hadn’t been that long since his love had died, something you could understand. or maybe he was overwhelmed with his emotions, something you could most definitely understand, as well. still, he tried to smile at you, coming over to where you were feeding the bunnies once he’d spotted you.
“hey”, obviously still not doing all too well, something you weren’t about to question him about, especially when he was trying to smile at you anyway.
“hey”, smiling back at him, moving your attention back to the bunnies soon after so he wouldn't feel like you were staring.
“again, sorry for acting weird, i was just… feeling weird”, an awkward laugh at his lack of eloquence, but you didn’t mind at all.
“don’t worry about it.”
you knew telling someone not to worry didn’t exactly make them worry less, but it was all you could do right now, telling him that it wasn’t a big deal and trying to act as you always did around him. or, always since you started talking again.
you’d spent about an hour with mingi and he had finally relaxed when your phone buzzed with messages from yunho, several at once, something that worried you a little because the brunette was here with you right now, so you didn’t at all know what yunho could possibly be double texting about. after checking that you had the time to read and reply right now, that there were no animals running around, you unlocked your phone, clicking on the notification in order to find out what was going on.
you hadn’t expected the messages you got, though. when you read them it quickly became very obvious that yunho had no idea that mingi was with you right now, and it seemed pretty obvious that mingi had no idea about what his friend was revealing, either.
[yunho]: i know mingi hasnt told you, but your soulmate mark is gone
[yunho]: dont freak out, its fine, he isnt planning anything
[yunho]: thats why im texting, actually
[yunho]: he told me to get with you, told me that he knows i like you and that you might like me and that even if it means hes not w you at least youre happy
[yunho]: i think hes really changed from when he fucked up, hes learned, and he wants you to be happy more than anything
[yunho]: so while i do like you, i think hes good for you. i think hed make you happy. i know you still like him, and he obviously likes you, enough to try to set you up w me
[yunho]: just thought id let you know
you looked at the phone in shock, unsure what to make of this, unsure what to make of not one but two confessions in the same message, unsure what to make of all the information you’d just gotten, and you almost dropped the little device, completely out of it.
“y/n?”
the man that apparently was really, actually your soulmate seemed worried by your reaction to the messages, and when you showed him the screen he understood what had happened. he didn’t know what to say either, though, but he knew you’d have to tell yunho something, at least, shouldn’t leave him on read.
“please message him back, okay? or i can do it. and then we’ll talk, but he’ll worry if you don’t say anything.”
you nodded, still only half there, and typed up a small message.
[y/n]: mingi is here rn. well talk about it now. thank you
then you locked your phone, staring at the now black screen, completely in shock. you hadn’t even thought about it. you hadn’t even thought about the whole soulmate thing when mingi had held you, or when he’d kissed your head. all you’d thought about was how you wished someone would care about you, really, deeply care, and now you’d gotten that in one of the worst ways you could imagine, because your best friend whom you’d not see as more than a best friend had apparently confessed just like this, and the man you did like seemed to want to set you up with said best friend because he cared about you so much. everything seemed to be going wrong and you had no idea what to do and you felt yourself slowly slip away, something you’d noticed you did when you were stressed, leaving reality so you would first have to deal with things when they’d settled in logically, removing the stress of having to deal with them logically and emotionally simultaneously.
“y/n?”, mingi asked again, looking at you with worry apparent in his eyes but that you missed anyway because you were staring into nothing.
“i’ll bring you home, okay?”, he told you when you didn’t react, and then: “can you tell me your address again? or i’ll take you to my place if you can’t.”
you couldn’t, so he brought you to his place as he’d said, trying carefully to prevent you from getting hurt on the way because it still seemed like you weren’t fully present. he had his arm around your waist the entire time, guiding you, and then you entered that place again, the place that had been your home and refuge for a few weeks and that now looked so different but still the same. it looked… inhabited, maybe, and you tried to focus on all the small details that had changed as he took off his jacket and shoes and you mechanically did the same. then he led you to his room, their room, carefully sitting you down on the bed to figure out what would be best to do right now, whether he should talk or wait until you were more present. he decided to wait, you could tell from how he was looking at you, wait for your next action or reaction.
your next action was looking around; this was the first time you’d ever seen his bedroom, and you’d immediately noticed the picture on the bedside table when mingi had sat you down on his bed, focusing on him and her, taking in all the details to bring you back to reality at least somewhat.
“she’s pretty”, you said once you were kind of there again, and “she was” the man replied, looking at the picture with a mixture of fondness and pain on his face. it kind of hurt, knowing you’d never be as pretty, feeling guilty for worrying about having to compete with a dead person, but she looked ethereal, she looked at mingi with such happiness and he looked at her with an expression you knew he’d never have on his face when looking at you. you were nothing compared to her, you were a mess, you were ugly with your piercings and your hair and your messy, weak body that was still dealing with the effects of apparently having been bed-bound for ages, even if you couldn’t remember, and you didn’t fit with him. you didn’t fit with anyone like him.
“i want to sleep”, even though it was maybe five or six in the afternoon, but you didn’t want to have to deal with your emotions right now and sleeping helped. maybe you were his soulmate, but you were a second choice, not just for him but for fate, too, you weren’t enough and you’d never be the one he wanted. and if you didn’t sleep soon you’d be sobbing in his arms again, something you most definitely didn’t want.
“i want to shower”, you then changed your mind, wanting to cry and knowing that if you stayed quiet you could do so in the shower and he’d never know.
he just nodded, getting out a towel for you and some of his clothes - neither you nor he would want you to wear her clothes -, then brought you to the bathroom, asking you to please not lock because he was still somewhat worried. that was fine with you because you didn’t expect him to come in, anyway, because what was there to see? you weren’t pretty, you weren’t attractive, you weren’t hot. you were a stick and you were a mess and you looked sickly even though you were starting to build up muscle, and nothing of that would ever be something he’d want to see naked. so you closed the door and undressed, the light turned off as soon as mingi was gone, unable to stand looking at yourself naked, too. you hadn’t even known that you had these insecurities until you saw how beautiful she was and how horrendous you looked in comparison, and the first sob escaped your lips as soon as the water was turned on enough to swallow it.
//
you’d been in the shower for thirty minutes now, and at this point he worried. you’d reacted when he knocked at the twenty minutes mark, so he knew you were still alive, but you hadn’t been doing well when you went in, and when he knocked again and he just heard you whimper he went in.
as soon as he opened the door he was greeted by hot steam coming out, and he could barely see because it was so steamy in there, the air hot and humid. it cleared a little now fresh, colder air was coming in, and he made his way to the shower after turning on the light - why was it turned off in the first place? -, pulling back the curtain because he heard you sob and because the water had to be really hot for the room to be in this state and he worried, he did.
and there you were, skin bright red, the water burning you and you just sitting on the floor and crying.
“y/n”, he almost yelled, shocked and scared, and turned off the water, getting slightly burnt on the tap and from the few drops falling onto his skin even as he tried to avoid the water. then he kneeled down, pulling you to his arms carefully because he didn’t want to hurt you but he worried so much about your sorry state, and you just kept sobbing.
“why’d you do that, why’d you do that, why’s the water so hot”, he repeated, completely overwhelmed, you still sobbing in his arms, but trying to answer.
“i just wanted to feel something”, you told him, “it was so hot but i still didn’t feel anything. it’s not hot enough”, arm moving to turn the water back on, but he stopped you.
“no, no, we won’t do that, we won’t do that, angel”, stroking your head and his heart hurting at how red your skin was. he could only hope you didn’t actually get any burns.
“i want to feel something”, you repeated, and mingi was so overwhelmed, he didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to help.
“can i turn on the water, but cold? maybe that’ll help, maybe it will, but i can’t let you burn yourself.”
he was pleading, hoping you wouldn’t hurt yourself any more, hoping you’d let him take care of you, and when you nodded he felt relieved, making sure the water was at an acceptable temperature before turning it on, gently washing you with the cold water, hoping to prevent it from getting too bad, rubbing your naked body but not caring about the fact that you were naked, caring only about taking care of you even when his clothes were getting soaked.
“is this okay? how does it feel?”, gently rubbing your scalp with the cold water, then your neck and your back and your sides, carefully, trying not to hurt you any more than you’d inevitably be when your senses registered your surroundings again.
“it hurts”, and it seemed like you were starting to come back, the sobs getting more violent again now that you were able to feel your skin be so tight and aching and red from your stupid attempt at feeling something.
“i’m almost done, let me just make sure everything is a little soothed, let me take care of you, i’m almost done”, he tried to calm you down as he rubbed your legs with the cold water again, finally turning the water off and getting up, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you before he told you to turn around, stripping himself of his wet clothes quickly, drying himself just enough to not soak his new clothes as he put on the pants he’d picked out for you before he told you that he’d put his shirt on you now, asking you to lift your arms if you could so he could do that.
you looked so small and hurt in his massive clothes, you made him want to protect you, and at least for the night he would.
“do you want to go to bed? let’s go to bed, angel”, he told you like he was talking to a child, but it kind of felt like he was. he could tell moving hurt and it made his heart hurt all the more, wanting nothing more than to take at least some of your pain, just enough for you to not be crying out like this because you didn’t want to do anything anymore.
laying down hurt, too, he could tell from how you flinched, and he tried very carefully to not make the bed move too much as he laid down next to you. you were laying on his side, he was laying on what used to be hers, and for a moment he felt a pang in his chest, but now his focus was on you, on trying to make sure that you’d be okay.
“it’s time to sleep. i’m here and if it gets too bad, wake me up. i promise i’ll be here.”
if being alive hadn’t hurt so much you would’ve thanked him, but now you just closed your eyes, and mingi watched your form almost vanish underneath the blankets he’d put on you, hoping that the next morning you’d be okay.
//
you woke up around one am, as the little clock on the night table told you, with your body hurting and your heart hurting even more. you wanted to be held, to be protected, you wanted to be taken care of.
“mingi”, you whimpered, hoping he’d wake up, “mingi, mingi.”
he shuffled, though you couldn’t tell if he was awake or not, so you continued whimpering, until you felt him sit up, and shortly after you heard his panicked voice.
“what’s wrong? what’s wrong, what’s wrong, are you okay?”
he sounded so scared that you felt bad, whimpering even more because everything was horrible and everything hurt.
“y/n, are you okay? do we need to go to the hospital?”, and although you couldn’t see him he was scanning your body - or, as much of it as he could see - for burns or any other clear signs of you needing immediate medical attention.
“no, i just… hug me, please”, you pleaded, him immediately complying even though he hadn’t expected this to be what you needed right now, especially not when you flinched in his embrace, but when he loosened his embrace and was about to move back you grabbed his hand, whimpering again, not wanting him to let go even if it hurt.
“is it okay? i don’t want to hurt you”, he told you with a soft voice, but he moved back closer towards you, trying hard to not move you as he came to lay as close as possible to you, one arm around you and the other above his head so that that one wouldn’t hurt you.
“don’t go”, you cried, his hold around you tightening slightly in reaction.
“i won’t go. i’ll take care of you, angel, i’ll take care of you”, he repeated against you, over and over, and you fell asleep to his promise.
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wiener-soldiers · 4 years
Text
the imperfect bubble - steve rogers
summary: y/n looks at bucky barnes like he’s the sun and the stars; bucky looks at y/n y/l/n like nothing more than his best friend. steve looks at peggy carter like she’s a divine angel; peggy looks at steve rogers like he’s nothing more than the remnants of a college romance. y/n looks at steve rogers like he’s a mirror; steve looks at y/n y/l/n like she’s the only person left that he can confide in.
words: 10.2k (you read that right)
warning: angst, unrequited love, the slowest slow burn you can possibly fathom, okay maybe not a slow burn but more like an oh shit that happened, minimal editing
a/n: im?? back?? i really enjoyed writing this one tho
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Leave your grievances at the door.
It was no longer an unspoken rule; when Steve and Bucky stepped into Y/N’s shared apartment with her college—and by association, their—friend’s Natasha and Wanda for movie night, they found the saying printed on the doormat inside their apartment.
It was a tradition that Steve, Bucky, and Y/N started their freshmen year of college. Steve and Bucky were best friends since childhood and have been through thick and thin together. So it was no surprise that despite the two attending different colleges, they still made it a habit to spend every waking moment together.
The two left their beloved Brooklyn to attend schools in Manhattan—Steve at Columbia pursuing his history degree and Bucky at NYU pursuing his engineering one. It was Steve’s turn to make the trip downtown and hang out with Bucky, but to his surprise, upon arriving at his dorm, he met eyes with a slightly wine-drunk girl hanging upside down Bucky’s bed while he tried to throw popcorn in his mouth.
It was quite the first impression, but Steve learned her name was Y/N, she went to NYU for journalism, and that she’d be sticking around a lot.
That night, instead of going out, Steve joined them in Bucky’s dorm, watching shitty Netflix reality shows, getting drunk on cheap wine, and their weekly tradition lived on ever since.
The doormat saying was one Y/N jokingly said to Bucky in their sophomore year of college. Y/N had moved into a new apartment in the East Village with Natasha and Wanda, two girls she bonded with over mutual hate for a certain TA. Despite Steve and Bucky’s place being decently big after deciding to move into a place together, the girl’s place was decidedly better decorated and more suited for movie nights.
Bucky had come in complaining about how a girl in his class flirted with him just to steal his notes and eventually best him during their midterms. Granted, it was a thrilling tale, but Y/N has jokingly told him to, “Leave you grievances at the door, Buck. This is movie night; we are going to chill and get drunk.”
The unspoken movie night rule stuck ever since.
So, when Steve and Bucky (now juniors) kicked their shoes off upon entering the girl’s apartment, the let out an audible laugh, alerting them that the muscle of the group was here.
“You like it?” Y/N calls out from the kitchen, followed by several ‘pops.’ The smell of buttery popcorn wafted through the air as the two followed the scent into the living room. Natasha was already occupying her seat on the couch. Wanda sat on the floor, in between her legs so to let Natasha braid her hair, as she scrolled through her Netflix queue for movies to watch.
“Looks great, doll,” Bucky smiled at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Steve notices a red blush crawl up her neck and smirks, sending the girl a wink. Y/N’s blush extends even further.
“Where’d you get it?” Bucky asks, sauntering into the living room and hopping over the back of the couch to land beside Nat.
Wanda giggles, “I custom ordered it on Etsy. I thought it would be funny.”
“You’re not wrong,” Natasha replies before the three of them fall into easy conversation about their weeks.
Steve stays behind the kitchen, observing Y/N as she observes Bucky. He smiles amusedly at her before saying, “I take it he still doesn’t know.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “He didn’t know last week. He didn’t know last year. He didn’t know since we were seventeen. You think I’m gonna tell him now?”
Steve shrugs, routinely helping Y/N gather the snacks and drinks for their movie night, “I think you’d be cute together, s’all.”
“Yeah? Tell that to the man himself,” Y/N says sarcastically.
“You could always tell him,” he counters, “Guys find it hot when girls make the first move.”
“Whatever you say, pal.”
---
As it turns out, Steve was right. And as much as Y/N hates to admit it, Steve was right about most things.
A few months after some mutual pining, Peggy Carter, the hot British international student that’s studying political science at Columbia grew more balls than Bucky and Steve ever could and asked the latter out on a date.
Y/N liked Peggy. She had gorgeous brown hair that was somehow always perfectly curled, warm eyes, but always wore seductively red lipstick. She looked like a drug, and if she wasn’t dating Steve, Y/N was convinced that she would ask the woman out herself.
Steve had stumbled into the girl’s apartment after their first date. Peggy had taken him dancing in a place in the East Village that played swing music and turned a blind eye when college students with sketchy looking fake IDs ordered cocktails. It’s not like they could do much harm anyway, most college kids who went there hopeless romantics who want nothing more than to dance with their dates with a little liquid courage.
As opposed to hopping on the subway slightly tipsy and potentially falling asleep before he reached in Midtown, Steve stumbled into his friend’s apartment, tipsy and high on the drug that took form in Peggy Carter.
“Hiya,” Steve said with a dopey, crooked smile. Y/N, Wanda, and Nat looked between themselves and Steve with widened eyes.
There were red lipstick stains all over his face.
Natasha smirks at him, “Looks like you had a good time with the missus.”
Steve points at Y/N, his eyes slightly lidded from drowsiness, “I told you it was hot when girls make the first move.”
Y/N lets out a snort. “It’s hot when Peggy Carter does anything, Stevie.”
His enormous grin widens. “Well, you got that fucking right.”
The three girls collective gag at the picture of Steve defiling the girl as Steve rolls his eyes at them, plopping down on the grey IKEA couch the girls were occupying. The couch was a moving in present from him and Bucky and despite how cheap it looked, they refused to allow the girls to get rid of it. If they were being honest, the girls didn’t have the heart to do so anyway.
“Do you mind if I crash here tonight?” Steve mumbles into Y/N’s lap.
“I’m staying at my brother’s tonight anyway,” Wanda says as she reaches over and runs a hand amusedly through Steve’s hair, “You can take my bed if you want, Steve.”
“No, s’okay. I’m comfy here,” he says, voice muffled by Y/N’s thighs.
“You’re a big fucking baby, you know that?” Y/N jokingly says, slapping Steve’s back. He screeches an ‘ow’ but doesn’t move an inch.
Nat smiles at them. Before she met Y/N and Steve, she would’ve been convinced they were dating. But, her heart is just as full knowing the incredibly wholesome and healthy friendship the two share. She reaches down to stroke Steve’s head before saying, “Y/N, I’m gonna go ahead and use the bathroom first—you seem occupied. Goodnight Steve.”
“Nighty night, Nat,” he murmurs. With Wanda, then Natasha stroking his head, sleep comes a lot faster than he intends.
“Steve?” Y/N asks him. It was her turn to slowly stroke his head.
“Mmhmm?”
“Did you let Bucky know you were staying over?” she asks, Mom-mode activating.
She feels her thighs rumble with Steve’s laughter. “He’ll live,” he tells her.
“He’s your best friend, hon. You gotta keep him updating on this kinda stuff.”
“But you’re my best friend too,” he sighs sleepily and Y/N’s heart swells with pride.
The corner of her mouth quirks into a smile, “Really?”
“Yeah, ‘course you duffus. ‘Sides, he probably thinks ‘m getting laid or somethin’.”
“You’re gross.”
“Eh, you love me.”
She did indeed. She let him fall asleep like that with a slight smile on his face, thinking about how well his date went. Y/N slowly slide out from underneath Steve, placing a blanket on top of him. She placed a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the coffee table for him when he woke, along with a sticky note saying:
Gonna be up early tomorrow, lover boy. Take whatever leftovers you want from the fridge. Also, invite Peggy to movie night :)
---
Per Y/N’s request, Steve did ask Peggy to come to movie night with him. To which, she excitedly agreed.
And against Steve’s assumptions, Y/N seemed more excited to have her over than he was.
Steve and Peggy entered the apartment hand in hand, with Steve carrying a takeout bag and Peggy nursing a bottle of white wine. Bucky trailed in behind them, carrying a pack of beers.
“They have a cute place,” Peggy comments, slipping her shoes off and following Steve into the living room.
“Don’t tell it to their face, though. One compliment and they’ll fall in love with you and you’ll never be allowed out of their sight again,” Bucky jokes from behind them, wandering into the kitchen to set the beer down.
Despite their five-person gathering being a six-person one that night, Peggy fit right in. Over cheesy horror movies, glasses of wine and swigs of beer, and copious amounts of takeout, the bombshell of a Brit felt very at home with Steve’s friends. To her surprise, none of them were jealous of her—Steve was incredibly attractive and the perfect guy, so she was sure it was impossible for him to have female friends without them throwing themselves at him.
She was wrong.
She really got a full understanding of their friendship—especially Steve’s friendship with Y/N—when she wandered down the hall to find more blankets. She heard two voices quietly discussing in someone’s room. She would’ve walked away because she didn’t want to eavesdrop until she heard her name.
“Peggy seems to be really enjoying herself.” She recognizes the voice to be Y/N’s.
“God, I hope so. Thanks again for inviting her.” Steve’s voice this time.
“You were the one who invited her, jackass,” she hears Y/N say sarcastically.
She hears Steve groan, “Don’t even start with that. What I meant was…thanks for giving her a chance.”
Softer this time, she hears Y/N say, “Steve, you’re my best friend. I didn’t like your other girlfriends because they seemed like shitty people. Peggy is…Peggy is good for you. Like, really good.”
“Okay now…” he laughs.
“No, I’m serious. If you didn’t ask her out, I was really fucking close to taking her for myself,” she finished before she hears a yelp followed by a soft thud and mattress springs squeaking. She can’t help herself and takes a peek inside the room to find Steve tickling Y/N on the bed. Peggy smiles to herself at the closeness of the friendship.
She’s about to walk away when she suddenly feels the feeling in the room shift.
“Steve, I think I’m gonna ask out Bucky.”
She hears an excited gasp, “Fucking finally! I’ve been saying you guys would be great together for years!”
She hears Y/N shush him, “He’s in the other room Steve, shut up!”
Peggy hears Steve laugh, “Sorry, sorry. Why now, though?”
“Dunno. I guess I just like seeing you happy with Peggy. And I don’t know, it makes me think that I deserve that happiness too,” Y/N says softly and Peggy’s heart melts.
“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” she hears Steve say. Despite not knowing Y/N that long, she’s proud of her too.
“Thanks, Steve.”
---
Y/N doesn’t get a chance to ask Bucky out.
As Y/N, Nat, and Wanda were preparing brownies for movie night when they got a text on their group chat:
Bucky: Can’t make it to movie night
Nat: got a hot date or smth?
Bucky: ;)
“Y/N…” Natasha calls out.
“Mhmm?” the girl calls out. “Gimme a second, I gotta take the brownies before they burn.”
Natasha sighs and walks into the kitchen to find Y/N gingerly setting the pan of brownies onto the counter. Wordlessly, Nat shows Y/N her phone with the group chat open.
The smile immediately falls from Y/N’s face.
“Y/N…” the red-head starts before getting vehemently cut off.
“I should be happy for him, right? My best friend just scored a date—”
“Y/N—”
“I was happy when Steve started going out with Peggy, why can’t I be happy Bucky found someone too—”
“Y/N!” Natasha says, more firmly this time.
“Why did you show me this, Nat?” she hisses, whipping her head and staring accusingly at her.
Natasha narrows her eyes at her, “You fucking know why. This was on the group chat, but I wanted to be there if you needed me when you saw it.”
Y/N’s eyes soften, “Nat, I’m sorry—”
Natasha cuts her off and immediately envelops her in a hug. “Don’t be,” she whispers, patting her head comfortingly, “You’re too good for Bucky, anyways.”
Y/N scoffs into her shoulder, “That’s my best friend, asshole. And Steve always said we’d be good together.”
“Steve has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”
Y/N laughs a little harder, forcing the tears she was trying to keep in slowly stream down her face. Natasha immediately notices, and wipes them away with her thumbs, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. And don’t think about Bucky. ‘Sides, it’s movie night and—”
“—I need to leave my grievances at the door, yeah I know,” she finishes with a sad smile on her face. Y/N shakes her head, “That saying is kicking me in the ass, isn’t it?”
Ten minutes later, Wanda emerges from the bathroom, screeching in frustration from Bucky’s texts in the group chat. Y/N tries her best to tell Wanda that she’s over it, but Wanda is strangely good at reading people (it doesn’t help that she’s also a psychology major). The girls usually love Wanda’s weird sixth sense, but Y/N couldn’t help but find it quite inconvenient at this very moment.
Half an hour after that, Steve arrives at the girls’ apartment, this time without Peggy. The first thing he does is wrap Y/N in a bear hug, despite her protests at everyone making a big deal out of it. Steve doesn’t care, only hugs her tighter.
The four of them huddle around the TV, watching whatever movie was next on their queue and catching up on life. They tried really hard to ignore the awkward tension and the lack of the Bucky-ness the group had. It was movie night, after all. The perfect bubble that was their movie night felt a little different than it normally had.
---
Bucky misses movie nights for the next few weeks.
With the end of junior year approaching, the group of friends rarely had time to socialize outside their study groups except for their weekly tradition. With Bucky gone doing whatever Bucky was doing, Y/N didn’t see him for weeks on end. The only interaction they had was the occasional meme being sent to the group chat or like on Instagram.
She missed him. But deep down inside of her, she wasn’t that all surprised.
What did surprise her was Bucky’s sudden appearance at their last movie night before the end of junior year.
They were halfway through their first movie—Wanda was teaching Peggy how to braid a flower crown, Steve had agreed to let Natasha paint his nails a red and blue ombre while he played a game of Connect Four with Y/N, all while a random movie played on the screen—when they heard the front door unlock.
“Sorry I’m late!” called a voice. It was distinctly Bucky’s, but the female giggle that followed was not.
Bucky and an unnamed blonde materialize in the living room and everyone looks at the pair in shock. Y/N could feel a few of her friend’s stares be redirected to her, but she can’t seem to overt her eyes from the blonde.
Her hair seemed like it was literally golden as it flows down her light-green sundress. She was wrapped around Bucky’s arm—the arm with his tattoo sleeve on it, the arm that she loved tracing the patterns of the tattoo with during movie night.
Peggy breaks the ice first, “Hi, Bucky.”
“Oh, you have an accent!” the blonde squeals and Y/N can feel her eyes roll. Wanda scoffs beside her.
“Bucky, can I talk to you for a sec?” Y/N asks, more like demands, as she stands up abruptly and walks briskly past Bucky towards the hall, away from the view of the living room.
Once they were out of earshot from their friends, she hisses, “What are you doing here?”
Bucky laughs almost mockingly, “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here?, It’s movie night, isn’t it?”
Y/N sighs tiredly, “Bucky, we haven’t seen you for weeks. Then, you show up with some blonde girl that we’ve never met?”
“I’ve been busy. What, am I not allowed to be busy anymore? The world doesn’t revolve around movie night,” Bucky snarls at her.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it,” she growls back. “You’ve been radio silent for weeks—you pretty much ghosted all of us. Hell, if it wasn’t for Steve living with you, we would’ve thought you were fucking dead! But we gave you space because we aren’t helicopter-friends. But then, you show up after ignoring us for weeks with some chick I’ve never seen before at my fucking house on fucking movie night?! Can you see why I’m a little pissed off right now?”
“The British chick is here! Why the hell can she be here but not Dolores?” Bucky bites back, his voice rising.
“Because Peggy was invited to my house and Dolores fucking wasn’t!” Y/N says aggressively, her voice nearing a shout.
“This isn’t your tradition, Y/N. You want to control everything about this friend group and trust me, sweetheart, we’re all getting sick of it.”
“Oh, you can’t fucking do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk like you’re still a fucking part of this friend group.”
“What, you’re gonna kick me out of your clique because I’ve been busy? Because I have a life?”
“No, because you’ve been a shitty fucking friend!” Y/N shouts, chest heaving, and face red.
Bucky’s eyes widen in shock. Sure, they’ve had points in their friendship where they haven’t communicated in a few days, but never this long. And Y/N had most certainly never been this angry with him before.
That seemed to knock some sense back into him. “Y/N—”
“Get the fuck out, Bucky.”
“Wha—”
“I said get out,” she says, eerily quiet.
So, he did. Bucky stormed out of the hallway and grabbed Dolores before marching out of the apartment. When Y/N sat back down with the rest of their friends, she could feel their stares burning into her face, but all she did was reach for the remote and continue playing the movie.
---
After Y/N’s argument with Bucky, he stops showing up game nights. They even make a new group chat without Bucky in it (because apparently, kicking him out of the apartment was fine but kicking him out of the group chat was too mean). Despite not really knowing what exactly was said, everyone understood what happened that night. To be frank, they were all waiting for someone to snap. A confrontation with him was long overdue.
The friend group is different without Bucky’s presence. Not better, not worse, just different.
It was clear that there would be awkward tension among the friends immediately after the argument. Wanda and Nat immediately sided with Y/N and clearly wanted nothing to do with Bucky. Steve was a trickier subject. Wanda, Nat, and Y/N all understood that they couldn’t force Steve not to be friends with him, so they all accepted him as their neutral party.
After a few months, their different was starting to feel normal.
But Y/N still missed Bucky. Despite her years of pining, Bucky was still her best friend. He was still the guy who walked her to her morning lectures after his run and got her wine drunk after a guy rejected her. Y/N missed that version of Bucky—she just wasn’t sure if he existed anymore.
Based on periodic updates that Steve gives her, Bucky is still with Dolores. “He’s happy,” Steve tells her. “Different, but happy.”
After a few months of living without Bucky in her life, she starts to blame herself. Had she been overreacting? Most probably. Did she really need to kick him out of her apartment? No.
“Was what you did justified though? Definitely,” Steve would always remind her. Some days she believes him, some days she doesn’t.
Still, her life begins to reach some semblance of normal. Movie nights are still once a week, but they’ve changed from a place where they have pseudo-therapy sessions lead by Wanda while a cheesy movie plays in the background.
It was about halfway into their senior year when Steve drops something on them during one of their movie night conversations.
“I might move to London,” Steve says out of the blue.
“What?” Y/N turns to him in shock.
Steve stares blankly at his lap, fidgeting with the nearly empty glass of red wine. “Peggy wants to move back to London after we graduate,” he says softly. “She wants me to go with her.”
It was Wanda’s turn to ask, “Well, why doesn’t she stay here with you?”
“Her family’s in London.”
“And your family is here, Steve,” Y/N replies softly, “We’re here.”
Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face before releasing a frustrated cry, “I don’t know what to do, guys.”
Natasha looks at him sympathetically before grasping his hand tightly, “Have you talked to Bucky about this?”
“Not yet…he’s got a lot on his plate right now,” Steve starts, warily looking at the girls sitting around him.
“What do you mean?” Natasha presses.
“Bucky proposed to Dolores a few days ago…” Steve sighs.
“Well…” Y/N starts, trying to find the right words, “Congrats to them.”
“Yeah,” Steve replies lamely before downing the remainder of his red wine. “I love Peggy, I really do,” Steve starts, “but I don’t know if London is right for me.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean?”
Steve sighs again, “I don’t know how to explain it but…lately it feels like our relationship isn’t real anymore⁠—like she’s using me as a prop. It feels like she’s dragging me along because she feels like she has to. I really do love her but going to London with her just doesn’t feel right.”
“And what does feel right, Steve?” Wanda asks him gently.
Steve answer in a heartbeat, “New York. With you guys.”
Y/N offers him her kindest eyes. She murmurs softly, “Steve, I think you have your answer then.”
---
Steve stayed in New York.
He was a little heartbroken by Peggy’s reaction though; she simply acknowledged him and went straight back to packing, not even bothering to fight for their relationship. Maybe there wasn’t a whole lot to fight for after all.
Bucky also married Dolores.
After their graduation, Bucky and Dolores eloped. They didn’t want the pressure of an actual wedding, so they got on a flight to Vegas and got hitched in their graduation gowns. The reassured everyone (especially their parents) that they would have a real wedding for everyone else afterwards.
Y/N, Wanda, and Natasha finally got their own places. Wanda was moving in with her brother, Pietro, into an apartment in Morningside Heights. They were both starting their master’s at Columbia (Wanda in psychology and Pietro in exercise physiology), so they wanted to live closer together. Natasha was finally moving in with her boyfriend, Bruce. They were a very private couple, so they weren’t at all surprised when they told them that they were moving into their own place in Park Slope, close to Bruce’s research job and Nat’s marketing firm.
Y/N was really close to downsizing to a studio when Steve rolled his eyes and told her, “Don’t be an idiot, I’ll move in with you. That place is too nice to give up. Besides, Bucky and Dolores are looking for a place to move into.”
So, what was once Y/N, Wanda, and Nat’s apartment was now Y/N and Steve’s.
Not much changed about the apartment: Y/N kept her old room and Steve moved into Wanda’s. Natasha’s room had the most natural light, so they turned it into an office. Steve, Y/N learned, was the ideal roommate—his stuff was never messy, he helped run errands, and he was a delight to be around.
If it was possible for the two best friends to get any closer, they did.
Y/N fell into an easy routine with Steve, almost like it was second nature. After both taking the summer off, Steve started his law degree at Columbia and Y/N started her job as a Staff Writer at the New York Times. 
They woke up at around seven and Steve got started on breakfast while Y/N used the bathroom first. As soon as she got out, breakfast would be waiting for her, so she got started on making coffee for her and Steve. Steve didn’t usually take long in the bathroom, so they ate breakfast together, enjoying each other’s company before their day started. After they both got dressed, they both walked to the subway and rode the L train before they had to split ways: Steve Uptown to Columbia and Y/N to the New York Times building. Steve usually got out of classes first, so he usually ran some errands for the place or studied in a café in the Village somewhere so to let Y/N get home before he did. She loved making dinner, so Steve usually came home to her blasting music and cooking.
The funniest part about their arrangement is that it was barely an arrangement: they didn’t really agree on splitting up their day this way. It just sort of…happened. It was natural but it felt right to the both of them and that’s all they could ever ask for.
The arbitrary lines of being roommates slowly began disappearing as well. 
Four months into living together, Y/N and Steve started sharing a bed.
It wasn’t romantic, but more like a necessity. Steve had walked by Y/N’s room when he heard slight whimpering. He immediately swung open the door and found her lying on her bed, clutching her stomach in pain with tears streaming down her face.
Steve immediately lost his composure, “Y/N? Are you okay?!”
“It fucking hurts Steve,” she mumbles, “Why does bleeding out of your vagina fucking hurt so much?”
Steve’s eyes immediately soften and he lets out a low hum, “Y/N, I thought you were dying.”
“I am dying. This heat pad isn’t doing shit!”
Steve laughs and makes his way to the bed, lifting the covers and sliding beside her. Y/N immediately shifts so that Steve can be more comfortable. He wraps his arms around her, making sure to put his palm flat on her stomach. In the mess of tangled limbs, they fall asleep like that and take the most relaxing nap of their lives.
Steve shares a bed Y/N that night. And the night after that. And the night after that.
Soon, Steve barely slept in his old room anymore. It got to a point where it didn’t even make sense for him to have his own room: Y/N’s room was bigger, closer to the bathroom, had a comfier bed, and Y/N was in it.
The two spend a weekend clearing out Steve’s new room and moving all his stuff into Y/N’s. They turn they put the grey IKEA pullout couch inside along with an array of painting supplies and camera equipment, effectively turning it into a home studio. They like the apartment better this way.
A few months later, the two get a dog together. The mini Australian Shepard has a gorgeous coat, different coloured eyes, and a scar that stretches across his face, a reminder as to why they rescued him in the first place. The renamed him Mando (because his face reminded them of the Mandalorian helmet) and he was like their child. He was full of energy, so Steve loved brining him along for runs in the park. But he was also quiet, reserved, and sensitive so Y/N adored cuddling with him on the couch.
It was their own little family. Steve, Y/N, and Mando.
Movie nights were still a weekly occurrence, but it wasn’t always at their place anymore. Almost six months after Steve moved in with Y/N, they hosted movie night at their place again.
It wasn’t as if Wanda and Natasha hadn’t seen Y/N and Steve since then, but it was the first time they really felt the changes in their old place.
“You redecorated,” Nat commented with a smile. She noticed there were more pictures up: some of their entire friend group, some of just Y/N and Steve. There was also a hanging shelf above the TV (something that Y/N had always talked about installing but never did) that housed some pottery and other knick-knacks Y/N and Steve have collected over the years.
Wanda notices the dog crate and bed in the corner of the living room, along with a basket of toys for the dog. She asks, “Where’s Mando?”
“Steve took him when he went to get the takeout. He likes to cuddle if that’s what you’re asking, Wanda,” Y/N answers amusedly.
“Whathcu do with our old rooms?” Nat hums as she takes a seat on their new couch. She wondered where the grey IKEA one went; it was unlikely that Y/N had the heart to throw it away.
Y/N sits down beside her holding three wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She pops the cork and pours them all a drink before saying, “We turned your old room into an office and Wanda’s into an art studio slash guest bedroom. That’s where the grey pullout went.” Y/N finished her sentence absentmindedly, almost like she didn’t realize the implication she made.
Wanda and Nat smirk at each other.
Nat takes a sip of her wine before nonchalantly saying, “You know, I always knew you and Steve would end up together.”
Y/N chokes on her wine, “I’m sorry…what?”
Wanda chuckles at her, “You live together, you share a bed, you got a dog.”
Y/N hums nervously, “We’re not dating.”
“Seems like you’re already married if you ask me,” Wanda counters with a smirk.
Before Y/N could get any more embarrassed, the front door opened and Mando came bolting inside, followed by Steve who laughed as the dog jumped on the couch and licked its occupants.
“Oh, Mando you’re so cute,” Wanda gushed before she immediately became occupied and played with Mando.
Natasha looked on with a knowing smirk as Y/N watched Steve approach, both wearing matching smiles, and Steve presses a kiss on her forehead.
“I got Lo Mein if that’s okay. I tried to make it to the pizza place, but I guess Mando likes the smell of Chinese,” Steve says quietly to her before setting the takeout on the coffee table beside the glasses of wine.
She smiles at him, “That’s okay, thanks for grabbing it anyways.”
“I figured you wanted time with the girls to catch up,” Steve shrugs before hopping over the back of the couch to sit next to you.
As the movie started and everyone started eating their serving of food and wine, Y/N assumed the natural position of leaning against Steve’s chest with his arm thrown around the back of the couch. The smell of his cologne is so synonymous with safety to Y/N, so she naturally leans closer to him.
Halfway through the first movie, Y/N catches Nat staring at her and Steve with a smirk. Nat sends a wink her way which sends Y/N’s face in a red flush.
She averts her eyes and looks back at the movie. We are not dating, Y/N thinks to herself, this is just natural.
---
It was about a year after Y/N and Steve started living together when they both got invitations to Bucky and Dolores' wedding.
Their group chat was blowing up with questions like ‘should we even go to the wedding?’ and ‘won’t it be awkward for everyone involved?’
Steve already knew that he was going. Despite everything, Bucky was still like his brother. They still saw each other almost weekly and although he wasn’t Dolores’ biggest fan just through negative association, he was happy that Bucky was immensely happy.
Y/N, on the other hand, needed more convincing.
“Jesus, I wish he never invited me to his goddamn wedding,” Y/N complained, her head buried in Steve’s shoulder as they sat on the couch, “Is this his version of a punishment? The anxiety of choosing whether or not I should come to his wedding?”
Steve rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, “Y/N, he did use to be your best friend.”
“Before I told him to get out of my life and that I never wanted to see him again,” she states bluntly. “God, I was so fucking stupid.”
“Hey,” Steve says firmly, “The both of you were acting pretty stupid, we’ve established that. But you’ve grown up. Bucky did invite you, which means he wants you to come.”
Y/N stays silent as Steve continues, “I know you miss him, Y/N. And clearly, he misses you too. Maybe this is your first step at mending your friendship.”
“If there’s anything left of it,” Y/N says pathetically.
“You won’t know if you don’t go to the wedding.”
So, she ends up going to the wedding.
The actual ceremony went by in a blur. Dolores was wearing a beautiful gown with gorgeous floral lace and Bucky in a wonderfully fitted velvet suit. Y/N thought the first time she would see Bucky in years would be filled with melancholy, but Y/N just felt better that Steve (from beside the groom) was sending her reassuring smiles the entire ceremony.
The couple was technically already married, so they didn’t have a licensed officiant. Instead, they had an array of friends, including Steve, the best man, say different parts of the pre-made script. It was fun, lighthearted, and had Bucky written all over it—something that Y/N missed about him the most.
At the reception, she took advantage of the open bar. She spent her time socializing with Natasha, Wanda, and Sam, a mutual friend who became an Air Force officer straight out of college. The night was still young, so Steve spent most of his time with the wedding party, occasionally sending Y/N texts like:
Steve: Miss you!
Steve: How many drinks have you had so far?
Steve: You made sure to lock Mando’s crate, right?
Steve: Did I tell you that you looked rlly pretty tonight?
Steve: I can’t wait until everyone gets drunk so I can hang out w you :)
“Texting at my wedding? I thought you loved parties, Y/N,” a recognizable voice says amusedly.
Y/N’s head snaps up and she’s met with a face that she hasn’t seen in years.
“Bucky—”
Bucky cuts her off, “Before you say anything, I’m sorry. You were right, I was being a really shitty friend and I didn’t have the right to ignore you, yell at you, or just bring random people into your home like I owned the place. I just…really missed you. You’re my best friend and my life hasn’t really been the same without you.”
Y/N is rendered speechless. Her mind blanks as she stares into Bucky’s watery eyes, begging for forgiveness. She says nothing and instead wraps her arms around Bucky, pulling him close. The man immediately wraps his arms around her like they’ve never left.
After the wedding, Bucky starts to show up to movie night again.
It takes a whole lot of coaxing to let Natasha and Wanda allow Bucky back into their lives, but eventually, they come around. It wasn’t like college though, but it was nice, nonetheless. One night, Bucky revealed that movie nights are when he feels the most like himself again. The rest of them smile wordlessly at him, but confusion does seep into the back of their minds.
A year since the wedding, the group finally fully accepts Bucky back into their lives as if he never left. He catches up with Natasha during impromptu lunches, takes Wanda to dinner if she’s ever in Midtown, watches the Yankees play with Steve to take his mind off of law school, and drops lunch off to Y/N at the New York Times building if he’s in the area.
Bucky truly misses his friends, but somewhere deep in his heart, he misses Y/N a little bit more.
The rest of them also notice how little Bucky talks about Dolores when they’re together.
They found it strange at first; normally, husbands loved talking about their wives. But Bucky never brought her to their outings, to movie night (despite everyone insisting that they’d be happy to have her over), and rarely brought her up in conversation unless asked.
Y/N found it especially strange. In a mature attempt to move on from her college crush on Bucky, she tried to make amends with Dolores. Turns out, the blonde was an adorable girl from Brooklyn that absolutely adores Bucky. She’s sensitive but hilarious and Y/N loves spending time with her.
She also noticed how much Dolores talked about Bucky. It was clear how much she adored him, so it was almost unfathomable to her how Bucky didn’t talk about the wonderful woman nearly as much as she talked about him.
“Don’t you find it a little weird?” Y/N asked him as he was brushing his teeth. Steve was concentrated on her face despite toothpaste foaming around his mouth. Y/N sat on the bathroom counter, feet swinging as she absentmindedly played with an elastic.
Steve spit in the sink before speaking, “I mean, you know Buck. He’s a pretty private guy.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t shut up about crazy stories he’s had with you and Bucky loves you. I just find it a little funky that he doesn’t act the same with Dolores,” Y/N explained.
Steve sighs and gargles the rest of the toothpaste out of his mouth. “I guess I never thought about it that way… They have only been married for a little over two years though. Maybe they’re still figuring out the ropes of their marriage?”
Y/N shrugs with a sigh, hopping off the counter and stripping off her shirt and pants. Steve tries his hardest not to stare but he can’t help but stare at the curve of her body as she reaches to slip on one of his hoodies she likes to wear for bed.
Steve isn’t really sure where his relationship with Y/N stands, to be honest. It’s funny to him—they act like an actual married couple, minus the romance. Acting domesticated with her just feels so natural to Steve, but he’s scared putting a label on anything will change the dynamic, so he stays silent and cherishes the domestic moments he has with her.
“You’re right, I’m probably overthinking it,” Y/N mumbles before slipping past him, “I’m headed off to bed. Don’t take too long.”
Y/N doesn’t notice Steve’s hard blush as he scrambles to put on some pyjamas to join her in bed.
---
“I’m nervous.”
“Jesus, Steve. You’ll be fine! You’re the top of your class at fucking Columbia, so there’s no way you failed the bar,” Y/N cheers on excitedly from behind him. She rubs his shoulders as he stares at his inbox, too afraid to click on the email titled ‘New York State Bar Exam Results.’
Steve’s foot taps incessantly, “I’m still too scared to look.”
Y/N reaches over his shoulder and kisses his cheek. “Fine,” she says, “I’ll look for you.” She clicks on the email and scrolls down, searching for Steve’s exam number.
After a few seconds, Y/N hesitantly asks, “Steve?”
“Mhmm?” he replies, his head in his hands.
“What’s your exam number again?”
“S-24601,” he replies quickly.
Y/N squeals and hugs him from the back, pressing kisses all over his neck. “You fucking passed, Steve!” she squeals.
“I did?!”
“Of course you did, dummy!”
Steve laughs in excitement and disbelief, grabbing Y/N by the waist and spinning her off the ground. Mando barks excitedly, jumping up happily against Steve’s thighs.
“You did it!” Y/N smiles down at him, her cheeks hurting from all her laughing.
The two celebrate by hosting movie night at their place with extra food, desserts, and ridiculous amounts of alcohol. Wanda brings Vis, the high school chemistry teacher she’s been seeing, Nat brings Bruce, and Bucky finally comes around and brings Dolores along for the celebration. Even Sam, who happened to be off duty, was able to come to the celebration.
Despite it technically being movie night, most of the night was spent trading funny stories about Steve, emptying bottles and bottles of wine and beer, and finally letting loose for the first time in a long time.
Around ten in the evening, the board games came out and the group of twenty-somethings started playing games with a drinking twist. Y/N had been attached to Steve by the hip all night (largely because he always seemed to have his arms around her), but she couldn’t complain. The several glasses of wine she had did make it easier for her to ignore Wanda and Natasha’s smirks.
It also made it easier for her to be ignorant of how awkward Dolores felt at the gathering. Y/N sincerely like the girl, but she was unaware of her discomfort until around one in the morning. Most people had left, and it was just Steve, Y/N, and Bucky cleaning up.
“Y/N, I’m gonna take a quick shower,” Steve calls out to Y/N as she washes the dishes with Bucky picking up trash in the living room. “Goodnight Bucky!” Steve calls out before disappearing.
“Goodnight, Steve,” Bucky shouts back before walking into the kitchen. He leans against the counter and watches Y/N as she does the dishes. Y/N notices his presence, then notices the lack of someone else’s presence.
“Hey Buck, where’d Dolores run off to?” Y/N hums, drying the last of the dishes.
Bucky shrugs, “Took an Uber and went home early.”
Y/N turns around to face him, “Shit, Buck. You didn’t have to stay—”
“Nah, I wanted to. She’s probably fine,” he answers nonchalantly.
“Probably?”
Bucky doesn’t respond.
Y/N takes a deep breath and fiddles with the dishtowel in her hands before saying, “Bucky, why is this the first time in three years of marriage that Dolores has come to a friend get together?”
Bucky’s jaw unhinges a little, “What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs and sets the dish towel down. She takes a deep breath before saying, “We’ve asked you to invite her to come over for years, but you always make excuses for her. You don’t nearly talk about her as much as she does about you, and I know that for a fact because I’ve hung out with Dolores on multiple occasions. Bucky…is everything alright between you and Dolores?”
Bucky stares intently at her for a few seconds before his resolve crumbles. His eyes lose its intensity and are replaced with tiredness as he drags his hand across his face. “Dot and I…” Bucky starts, “are going through a bit of a…rough patch.”
“Bucky—”
“I made a mistake marrying her,” he says bluntly.
“What?” Y/N says in shock. Every time she’s spent time with Dolores, she had been nothing but lovely. She’s perfect for Bucky—she doesn’t understand where he’s coming from.
“I love Dolores but I…”
“But…?”
Bucky doesn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses the kitchen floor in two long strides and grabs Y/N by the face, kissing her fiercely.
Y/N freezes and her eyes widen in shock. What the fuck was happening? was the only thing her brain could possibly register at the point.
Bucky pulls away but the grip on her face doesn’t fade, “But I’m in love with you, Y/N. And I know for a fact that you love me too.”
He leans in for another kiss, but Y/N pushes him away. “Bucky stop!” she says, harsher than she intends, but she doesn’t regret it.
Bucky stares at her, dumbfounded, but she continues, “That was a long, long time ago. And Jesus, Bucky you’re married!”
He shakes his head, “I don’t need to be forever—”
“—And you’re drunk!” she explains in exasperation.
“But I know some part of you still loves me. And God, I love you too. All those years without you and it finally got through to my thick skull,” Bucky argues.
“But what about Dolores?” she whispers.
“Fuck Dolores,” he says. Bucky reaches for her again, but Y/N steps away.
“Bucky, I can’t,” Y/N cries. “Maybe there’s some part of me that loves you, that may always love you. But there’s a bigger part of me that loves what I have right now. Bucky, I’ve never felt so safe before. So happy, so cared for, so loved. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t give away the happiness and security that I deserve to explore what my life would be like with you because I love—”
Y/N stops abruptly, her voice catching in her throat.
“Because you love who, Y/N?” Bucky asks. She notices how his eyes have become glassy and how his shoulders had slumped slightly.
Because I love Steve, Y/N thinks. But she doesn’t find the courage to say it. Bucky can see it in her eyes, though.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Bucky doesn’t have to say his name who she’s talking about.
Y/N is silent, her heart thumping so loud her she’s afraid Bucky can hear it.
Her silence is enough for him, “Ah.”
Bucky waits a few more seconds before saying, “When did you know?”
Y/N gulps and lets out a shaky breath. When did she know? She racks her brain but can’t think of a specific time. Part of her thinks that she always knew. She was so natural around Steve. So safe and carefree. Steve was there when that perfect bubble of her friendship with Bucky popped, and he even stayed with her after. He was the one that helped her mend her heart and, in the process, built himself a spot inside without even realizing it. Her imperfect bubble, her lens of the world, may have been broken, but Steve was inside, and Y/N knew that it’s all the really mattered.
I love Steve, she confessed to herself. She felt like she was Cher in Clueless, with the fountain of her emotions erupting inside her. Bucky could clearly see it on her face as he smiled sadly.
“Did I ever have a chance?” he whispers.
“Yeah... A long time ago,” Y/N answers softly, not trusting her voice.
“Will I ever get the chance again?”
Y/N shakes her head softly, “Don’t wait for me, Bucky.”
Bucky smiles sadly at her, a tear escaping his eye. She reaches for him, but Bucky shakes his head, “See you around, Y/N.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
Y/N feels like she’s on autopilot. Adrenaline is still coursing through her system; coupled with alcohol and a whole lot of courage, her feet bring her to the bathroom before even realizing. She doesn’t realize that she’s turning the doorknob or stripping completely. She barely registers her stepping into the steamy shower before and she definitely doesn’t fully register her tapping Steve on the shoulder, reaching up, and kissing him fiercely.
He pulls away first, “Y/N?”
She kisses him in response. This time, he responds but pulls away a few seconds later, “Why are you doing this? Are you drunk?”
“Yeah, it’s not why I’m doing this though,” she says, voice raspy.
“Why then?”
“Because I love you.”
“Oh,” was Steve’s response before kissing her again. The two sloppily make out like teenagers discovering sex for the first time before Steve pulls away again.
“I also love you, you know,” he says lazily against her lips. He feels her smile.
“That’s good,” she replies before kissing him once more.
The night lasts a lot longer than both of them intend. But it wasn’t like they were complaining.
---
Life had a strange way of playing out sometimes.
It seemed as if Y/N and Steve blinked and the rest of their lives fell straight into their laps.
When they meet new people, they always ask them how long they've been together or when they started dating.
“A lifetime ago,” Steve would always say, his eyes lighting up and his face flushing slightly.
After the night that Steve learned he passed the bar, Y/N and Steve’s relationship didn’t change all that much, mostly because they acted like they were married in the first place. They already help hands in public, gave each other kisses on the cheek when their friends were around, and they acted more domesticated than a lot of actual married couples only months after they officially started dating.
In fact, most of their friends didn’t even realize they had started dating until almost six months later, Y/N made an off-hand comment about how Steve was secretly really kinky in bed.
The really didn’t have an engagement either.
After two years of dating, five years of living together, and nine years of knowing each other, Steve just decided to get straight to the point.
“You wanna get married, Y/N?” Steve asked her. He had just come back from his job as a corporate lawyer. He honestly hated it but needed the experience and the money to pay off his student loans. His grand plan after he was no longer drowning in debt was to become an Assistant District Attorney.
Y/N stopped cutting the vegetables and turned toward Steve who was leaning against the fridge, suit jacket slung across one shoulder and top button his dress shirt undone. She raises a brow at him, “Pardon me?”
“You wanna get married?” he repeats nonchalantly.
“Now? I’m making dinner.”
“Whenever you want, doll.”
She sets the knife down and slowly walks towards him. “This isn’t you proposing, is it?” she cackles.
Steve shakes his head and laughs, meeting her halfway. “No, I thought of this while I was riding the subway back home. I don’t even have a ring, honey,” he explains. “If I’m honest, it feels like we’ve been married for the past five years, so I kinda forgot that we aren’t.”
Y/N purses her lips in concentration before saying, “That’s fair.”
Steve stares at her for a few more seconds, “So…?”
“Do you want to get married?” she asks him this time, stepping forward and grasping his hands.
“I mean…yeah,” Steve says with a grin, “Telling people you’re my wife is a lot cooler than telling people you’re my girlfriend. Besides, if I ever commit a crime, you have the right not to testify against me because of marital privilege—”
He’s cut off with howling laughter and Y/N burying her face into his chest as he wraps his arms around her. Steve’s tired, really tired, but coming home to her was what he reminded himself he was working for.
“Should we do the whole proposal thing, too?” Y/N asks him after her laughter dies down.
“I don’t mind proposing if it’s something you want to do,” he tells her, pressing his lips to her head.
“Meh. I don’t really care,” she says cheekily before pressing her lips to his.
After their wedding—just like Y/N and Steve predicted—their lives didn’t change all too much. The only noticeable changes were that they were being addressed as Y/L/N-Rogers in the mail, but their lives were pretty much the same.
Their friends found it fascinating: when they had gotten married, they felt that their relationship dynamic had changed a little. But then again, they supposed Steve and Y/N had been acting like they’ve been married since the ripe age of twenty. It’s almost like they skipped a few steps in their relationship and went from friends to acting like they’ve been married for forty years.
The biggest change in their relationship came three years after their wedding when their twins, Avery and Jameson Y/L/N-Rogers were born into the world.
Steve and Y/N were natural parents and they loved their kids. When the twins were three, they took them on their first road trip to the Adirondacks. They spent the weekend at a lakefront cabin, swimming, canoeing, and hiking. When asked years later, the twins would always explain that this was their first memory. At four, the twins started school, and to say Y/N and Steve were worried would be a huge lie. They knew Avery and Jameson would protect each other no matter what. At age seven, a boy on the playground called Avery an ‘ugly liar’, and Jameson threw sand in his face. Steve gave Jameson a scolding about how it was bad to throw sand at people and instead saying that if he was going to throw something, throw a punch instead.
Y/N had to step in and tell him not to do that unless it was a last resort.
At twelve, Jameson had his first real crush on a girl named Mindy. But, Avery knew that Mindy was mean and the daughter of an entitled Karen, so when Jameson asked Mindy if she wanted to dance with her at the school dance, Avery made sure to scare her straight.
“My daddy is a lawyer and sends criminals to prison and my mommy works for the New York Times. So, if you hurt James, everyone will know how mean you actually are are,” Avery threatened, which made Mindy back out of dancing with Jameson. Despite being mad when he was twelve, he was thankful years later when he saw firsthand what kind of teenager Mindy would become.
Now at sixteen, though the two twins were still thick as thieves, they matured into respectable, and frankly perfect kids.
That year, the Fourth of July (aka Steve’s birthday) fell the same night as movie night and the twins took it upon themselves to plan their dad’s party.
“Avery? James? You doin’ alright?” Y/N called from the upper floor of their brownstone in Park Slope, Brooklyn. When it was obvious that Avery and Jameson were at the age that they couldn’t share a bedroom anymore, Steve convinced Y/N to move back to Brooklyn. It wasn’t the difficult, per se, especially when Steve found a place close to where Natasha and her now-husband Bruce lived.
“Doin’ just fine, Mom!” Avery calls back. She was busy frosting the good-old Stars and Stripes cake while James finished the last-minute decorations.
Just then, Y/N heard a thud before some soft moaning. She gasped, already halfway down the stairs. “Are you okay? Do you need help? Screw your surprise, I’m com—”
“No!” James shouted, quickly sitting up, “I just fell off a stool, Mom. No big deal, you don’t need to come downstairs.”
“Are you su—”
“Yep! This is supposed to be a surprise!” James calls back.
“A surprise for your dad, not for me Jameson.”
Avery cackles from the kitchen and James rolls his eyes at her. “We’re fine, I promise,” he reassures her.
“Okay, just be done before everyone gets here. Bucky’s stalling your dad for as long as possible but I know he’ll want to come home soon.”
When Y/N is finally allowed downstairs, she’s impressed with their work. Red, white, and blue streamers are hung all across the ceiling as well as helium balloons that say ‘Happy Birthday America!’ except America is crossed out with Sharpie and ‘Steve Rogers’ is written in her kids’ handwriting instead. In the living room, several games are put out on the coffee table and a playlist full of patriotic movies is ready to be played on the TV. All her friends (minus Bucky and Steve) are in the living room, having a laugh at all the funny touches on the decorations. Their dining table was filled with food their friends brought for the potluck, and for some reason, James had blasted (and looped) a remix of the Star-Spangled Banner and Happy Birthday.
“Do you like it, Mom?” Y/N hears before turning around and facing her kids. Avery’s hand was grasped in James’ and her heart melts. How did I get so lucky? she asks herself.
She gives them a huge smile before enveloping both of them into a hug. “It’s amazing. Better than anything I could’ve done, that’s for sure.”
“Do you think, Dad’ll like it?” James mumbles into her shoulder.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” a voice suddenly shouts. The three pull apart to find Steve standing at the entrance of the living room with a huge grin on his face. Bucky stands behind him, chuckling at his reaction.
Y/N’s smile widens at the sight of her husband. “There’s your answer, James.”
The party is everything Steve could have really asked for. The food was great, his company was even better, and the thoughtfulness of his kids was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
When the night gets darker, the party of people head to the roof of the building so they can watch the fireworks. As they wait, Avery has everyone engrossed in a story of how James followed her on a date with a boy she really liked, Peter Parker. Steve stood at the edge of the crowd, smiling at how happy his kids and his wife looked. He feels a presence beside him and doesn’t need to look to know who it is.
“You did pretty great, Steve,” Bucky tells him softly.
“With Avery and James?” he asks.
“With life, buddy.”
Steve hums contently as the two of them watch Avery cause a bubble of laughter to erupt from the group. James punches her playfully on the arm, but the smile is still evident on his face.
“How’s Steph?” Steve asks him.
“She’s good. She’s with her mom for the weekend,” Bucky answers quietly.
“And how are you and Dolores?”
Bucky is silent for a few seconds. He clears his throat before saying, “Talking. We’re trying to work it out for Steph’s sake. She doesn’t deserve to have a broken family.”
Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Buck. You’re a good father,” he tells his best friend.
Bucky remains silent. After a few minutes of silence, Bucky’s conscious drowns him in guild and he speaks up, “I kissed Y/N when we were younger. It was the night you learned you passed the bar. I told her I thought I made a mistake marrying Dolores, and shit…I don’t even know what I was thinking because I knew she probably loved you. I’m so sorry, Steve. I never told you because you’re my best friend and—”
“Bucky,” Steve cuts him off with a small, sympathetic smile, “It’s okay. I know.”
Bucky’s brows shoot up. “You know?” he asks.
Steve nods, “Y/N told me. Y/N tells me everything.”
Bucky exhales, “Ah.”
“I’m not mad,” Steve tells him.
“You’re not?”
“I am married to her and still best friends with you, aren’t I?”
Bucky chuckles and looks down. He doesn’t deserve Steve, Bucky thinks. But he’s damn grateful a guy like him is in his life. “I’m still sorry,” he says.
“It’s okay, Bucky. I mean it,” Steve says, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
The two stand in comfortable silence when the fireworks finally start to go off. The roof glows with red light and Steve can’t help but admire how beautiful Y/N looks with the glow of light on her skin. Avery has her head on Y/N’s shoulder while Jameson has an arm wrapped around her torso. Steve notices Bucky admiring his family too.
“You know,” Steve starts, “she loved you when we were younger. I actually thought the two of you would be great together and wanted her to ask you out. She was about to.”
Bucky looks at him. “Really,” he asks suspiciously.
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, still looking at the fireworks. “And did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Love her?”
Bucky is silent. He stares at Steve’s side profile; he’s still staring up at the fireworks without a care in the world.
Bucky sighs and answers honestly, “All throughout college, even when I was with Dolores. But guessing by your reaction, I think you already knew that.”
Steve finally glances in his direction, “I’m your best friend. Of course, I knew.”
“Did I ever have a chance with her?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, finally looking at Bucky, “once you did.”
Bucky sighs, “How’d you do it? How’d you find someone you love so naturally?”
Steve shakes his head, his eyes trained on his wife and his kids. They looked so happy, living in their own little bubble. Steve smiles softly before saying, “I stuck around.”
Bucky nods wordlessly before turning his attention back to the fireworks above. Steve continues to stare at his family when Y/N turns around and catches his gaze. Despite the night sky, her eyes are bright and filled with joy and love.
Steve smiles widely at her.
And in their own imperfect, but beautiful bubble, Y/N smiles back.
---
steve rogers taglist: @milea​
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