#instead listened as he told her she inspired him to travel and that he's sorry and that he appreciates how she was looking out for him

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot (Part 38)

Cillian Murphy

Series Master List 2014 , 2015

A/N: the scene with Mom is inspired by a lovely chat I had with @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo 🥰 thank you for the inspiration!

🍔 The scene mentioned is not part of the movie, but I imagined it could be part of a scene that never got released… and the hamburger part was inspired by the photos I added 😂 also be careful when you drive, my mum and I almost got sandwiched between 2 cars 3 times in a row one day…

Yael was waiting impatiently with her laptop and Skype ready, feeling like a teenage girl one more time.

Cillian had been completely focused on his role as Josef Gabcik, finally getting into his character mindset. Traveling to Prague helped him a lot to reach the fine details he wanted to achieve for the movie.

After he left, she had a photography session with a long-time client of hers, Martha she contacted Yael to take her engagement photos a few years ago, she then asked her to photograph her wedding day but now she wanted to get the photos with her baby boy.

It was something common some brides did, they loved the shots they got and came back to have other important moments immortalized by Yael’s lenses.

Contacting Yael through a call to ask if she was still outside the UK, Martha explained to her that she had been following her work for a while and thought it was incredible that she moved to Ireland. So the date for her Photoshoot arrived and she traveled with her one-year old son to Ireland because she and her husband wanted to visit the country. Now she would get the chance to do it… without him.

He was killed in an accident when the police were behind a man who stole in a store and he was shot by accident. He didn’t know she was pregnant back then, so Martha had to learn to live with both grief over losing her husband and the fact that she would be a single mother.

Yael couldn’t hold back the tears after listening to her story, it was heartbreaking to remember the beautiful shooting they did years ago, they were so happy, so in love.

In a snap of the fingers, Rob was gone, Martha didn’t have any other choice but keep going.

That night, Yael called Cillian as soon as she got home. She was inconsolable, sobbing on the phone, she couldn’t help but see herself in Martha’s shoes, what if she was the one losing her husband? What if she couldn’t see him again? The thought of the possibility of not kissing him or waking up next to his warm body, the comfort of his arms around her, and his loud laugh over something silly… she didn’t want to keep fighting or keep her anger towards him any longer.

There was no point to waste time in stupid fights, they both realized how fragile life was, how everything can change in a heartbeat.

Maybe it was the photoshoot or the distance, or the fact that they stopped thinking and talking about the problems they just faced, but their relationship was at a much better place, both decided to focus on them and their projects only after apologizing over and over on the phone.

Finally, the notification of Cillian’s call showed up in the corner of her laptop, pressing the green button she found a smile growing in her face at the sight of her husband.

“Sorry love, I was in the shower.” He confessed as if his wet hair didn’t give that away. Yael saw the glimpse of his boxers when he moved, his torso covered by the undershirt he was wearing.

“It’s alright, how was your day?”

As he moved around carrying the laptop with him, she could see part of the apartment he told her the other day, it was like a flat, but he had everything he needed, a new tv, beautiful view from his window, the only thing he asked for was a kitchen, he wanted to cook instead of eating out all the time.

“Good actually, we did a couple of good shoots at a club and outside.”

“A club? That sounds like fun.”

She saw him smiling at that.

“Yeah well, the club is in the middle of the set and the fun stops when two soldiers come for me and a fight starts.” He said after filming several options for the scene.

“Oh no!” Yael gasped. “What happens then?”

“Josef gets beaten up and-” Cillian smirked, she was so good at distracting him with those eyes and smile. “You will have to see the movie to find out.”

“That’s not fair!” She pouted. “You mentioned once it’s usually released a year later.” She remembered the post production process he told her about, it involved them recording their voices for some scenes, endless hours of editing, lights, sound effects, music…

“You know how this is, I could get in trouble if any detail is leaked to the press.” He made a funny face, he knew she wouldn’t say a word.

“I think I know how to convince you.” Cillian saw her standing up, the kitchen lights illuminating her frame.

His pulse started to quicken as he saw his wife remove her top.

The problem now, wasn’t the strict contract he signed of not revealing anything… but his speechless state. His mind went blank the moment he saw Yael standing in front of him with her top covered only by her bra, a delicate pale pink lace.

“Take that off, and I will tell you how it ends.”

Cillian got hard immediately when he saw his wife biting her lower lip and moving her hands to her back.

***

After sharing a bear hug, Isla wrapped her arm around her daughter's waist.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, everything good with your flight?” Yael asked reaching Cillian’s car, he told her she could use it as much as she needed to.

“Everything went well, oh! I almost forget your Dad asked me to call and let him know that we are together.”

“Bet he is missing you terribly.”

Isla chuckled. “Bryan couldn’t stop whining on the way to the airport.”

“He’s coming on Friday right?” Isla nodded and Yael’s phone started ringing. “Can you take that? It might be Cill.”

Setting up the phone in speaker, Cillian greeted his mother in law, he was genuinely happy to have her staying with Yael while he was away.

“I loved the photos you took from the guest room, looks amazing.” Isla beamed, when she saw the photos, she told her daughter that it looked out of a magazine.

“Isla, please make yourself at home.” She insisted him to call her by her name since the day they met.

As Yael was about to change to her right lane, a truck came out of nowhere, the car behind her honked desperately, Yael mirroring it.

“Be careful!” Yelled Isla, holding onto the glove compartment.

“Oh my God! Where did that truck came from? Are you okay?” She asked her mum after moving the wheel violently to go back to her original lane.

“What happened?!” Asked Cillian, worried for not knowing what was going on.

Her heartbeat went crazy, they were one second away of having a major accident.

“Baby? Tell me what’s going on?” Yael heard Cillian’s voice after slowing down her speed.

“Just a bloody eejit with a driver license, we’re alright.”

Isla placed a hand over her speed up heart. “That was so close. I thought we would get sandwiched between the truck and the one on your side.”

Cillian kept calling his wife’s name.

“Don’t worry baby, everything’s fine, it was just a crazy driver using the wrong side of the road.”

“Be careful, okay?” The sound of the car’s tires and brake got him worried. “Call me when you get home, I don’t want to distract you yeah?”

Yael nodded, her knuckles almost white from taking the steering wheel with all she got. “Will do, I love you!”

“Love you more, be safe.”

She heard the call finished on the other line, but she refused to take her eyes from the road. Even the smallest distraction could cause a terrible accident.

After the little scared moment they had, Yael and Isla stopped at a pharmacy to buy a hair dye and some vitamins her mum forgot at home.

It was an incredible sunny day, so they stopped at a small store to get some ice cream, chocolate with mint for Isla and cookies and cream for Yael, sharing a small moment of joy to compensate for the distance.

“I really needed to dye my hair, but you know Marcie moved to another city and all the services at the salon are getting so expensive, but I don’t like my white hairs.” Isla complained.

“Marcie left? Why?” She was her mum’s stylist for over a decade.

“Her sister got ill, and she didn’t have anyone but Marcie.”

“You must really miss her.”

“Oh! This is lovely.” Isla pointed at the cookies jar next to the sink full of samples.

“Right? I found them at the thrift store last week and I had lots of samples for a Photoshoot I did some time ago for a brand, don’t worry there’s one in your bathroom too.”

As Yael prepared her mum’s hair with the oil and towel around her neck, then she took her cellphone to answer a text Cillian sent her.

Looking at her daughter through the mirror, Isla asked her: “What’s that smile for?”

“Oh, it’s just that Cill sent me a photo of his fake dinner, they use plastic food for the shoots and he has to pretend to eat it.” He was messing around with Jaime, she was happy to know he was having a good time while working.

“He’s just the sweetest man, calling you to see what plans did we have or what we wanted to do.” She loved to see her son in law treating her daughter right, loving her. “You complete each other.”

“I just think it must be hard for him to be alone in a country he knows nothing about, in a small apartment, you know… away. Imagine if today something happened to us while driving back home, how long will it take him to catch a flight?”

“Oh, don’t even think about it.” Isla touched her daughter’s arm in comfort.

“I know I wouldn’t be able to do it, learn all of those scripts, repeat the scenes over and over, listen to the directions, learning a different accent, the life of his character… the press, interviews, the criticism.”

“But he’s so good, the other day your Dad and I found Batman on the telly, he was such a cute boy.”

Yael smiled at the memory of her parents calling one night to tell her, that they found a Cillian’s movie.

“He’s getting more and more handsome.” Yael admitted.

“I hope you tell him that, men are like us, they like to know their wives find them attractive.”

Yael chuckled. “He doesn’t believe me.” She started to dye her mum’s roots first, dividing her hair, it was just above shoulder’s length.

“After all the things you went through with the lies that woman said, he probably has a hard time believing anything.”

Sadness reached Yael’s eyes, something her mum immediately recognized.

“What’s the matter babygirl?”

“It’s just…” her voice broke down a little. “we had a really hard time because of that. There was a moment when I thought we wouldn’t be able to stay together.” Her eyes watered. “Even after the truth was revealed, we still kept having some problems because of that, everyone was trying to say their opinions over what he should or shouldn’t do, while we were still trying to learn how to live without the baby in our lives…”

“That woman will pay for her lies, you’ll see.”

Checking the timer, she started to dye the rest of the hair, struggling with the giant gloves that came in the box. Trying to avoid her mum’s skin in case the dye caused any allergy.

Yael shuddered. “I really don’t care about her, what really upsets me is that Cillian and I were really close to break up, there were nights when I thought I couldn’t keep going, I just wanted the nightmare to be over, everything was too much.” Letting off steam with her mum really helped Yael out, there were a lot of things she needed to get out of her chest that no one else would understand, and she really needed to be really careful because Cillian was a public figure and she didn’t want any tabloids gossiping about him.

Yael finished covering all her mum’s hair with the dye and then went on to cover her mother’s head with a plastic wrap. “Sometimes it was something I did or something he said.”

Isla looked at her through the mirror.

“That witch’s mom even called one day to suggest we could keep seeing Sean if we wanted to!”

“Why would you do that? If the baby wasn’t his, there’s no reason for you to keep in touch.”

“That’s what Cill said.”

Checking the clock, they still needed to wait five more minutes, so Yael started to prepare the bowl to wash her mum’s hair.

“I hope all of that is better now.”

Sighing, Yael gave Isla a half smile. “It’s better, but he’s away right now if you weren’t here, I’d be by myself just with Scout.”

After rinsing Isla’s hair, Yael took her hairdryer and with her fingers, started blow drying it, enjoying the simple moment with her mum.

Scout ran away downstairs as he heard the annoying sound of the hairdryer.

“Why don’t you go and surprise him?” Isla proposed over the noise.

Turning off the hairdryer and looked at her mum’s reflection. “Cill is busy filming, I don’t want to distract him.”

“I think he would love to see you there.”

“You might be right… and I miss him like crazy.”

---

Lenka took a small feather that fell on his shoulder, as she saw the soldier approaching them she gave him a warning look. If that man asked them any questions, it would be the end of them.

“How can you be so, so boorish? I just wanted to see that hat, Jo!” She pretended to make a scene and walked in the opposite direction, he knew what she was doing, she wanted a distraction.

“I promise you, we will get it tomorrow.” He followed after her like a lost dog and looked at the few coins he had in his pocket.

She was deliberately speaking louder, so the soldier could hear they were in the middle of a stupid argument. “You’re always making promises.”

As they cross the street, Josef pulls her by her arm and with his thumbs he starts caressing her face. “Good, now nod and look if he’s still close.”

Lenka shudders and whispers a no.

“And… Cut!” The director announced. “It stays, we’re good. See you all after lunch break.”

“I’m sorry I stepped over your shoe.” Anna apologized with an embarrassed face.

“It’s alright.” Cillian answered but faked to hobble and let out a loud laugh. As he walked over to the food table, he was starving.

Anna squinted her eyes at him. “You’re terrible!”

It was so late, and he felt like he could eat anything in that moment.

“It makes the shoes look worn out, otherwise the audience won’t believe it.”

Anna gave his hamburger a side look, it was probably something she wouldn’t eat.

Another thing he disliked about the Hollywood life; the pressure of being perfect all the fucking time.

“Mr. Murphy, there’s someone waiting for you in your trailer.” Someone from the staff informed him as he waved his co-star goodbye. Jamie wasn’t around filming so he would probably have lunch by himself.

After taking a bite of the glorious and cold hamburger, he asked: “Who? Is this for the behind the scenes interviews?” He heard someone got the idea to record the actors as they prepared for their roles between scenes, and the idea of having someone following him to the bathroom wasn’t really appealing.

“No, but I can’t say anything else.” The woman pursed her mouth in a tight light and motioned him to follow her lead.

“Is it Jamie making pranks again?” He asked worried, until now he wasn’t a victim of his jokes, but you never know with him.

The woman made the signal of closing a zipper with a lock. “Can I take that?” She then pointed at the vintage camera hanging from his neck, he used it earlier to shoot that scene with Anna as she pretended to pose for Josef.

Cillian handed her the camera and tried to look for something out of place outside his trailer, but everything was so quiet.

Opening the door a little, he tried to spy around, but it wasn’t until he opened it a bit further, he found his wife standing in the middle of the cabin.

“When did you get here?” He rushed towards Yael to wrap his arms around her. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He added against her lips.

Yael touched his cheeks and then passed her arms around his neck to feel him closer. “Just wanted to surprise you, the staff said you are on your lunch break.” She kissed and hugged him back as Cillian put her down after spinning her around.

“Ah this is the most beautiful surprise!” She didn’t mention anything when they talked that morning, he thought she would visit him the following week. “Sorry for the crumbs.” He tried to smooth her clothes.

“Oh God, I missed you like crazy.”

“Me too baby, me too.” Cillian whispered against her hair, her perfume filling him, she smelled like orchids, it had a comforting effect on him.

He loved his job, tried to perform with all he got, truly getting in the skin of his character, but having his wife visiting him on set after everything they’ve been through was all he needed in the moment, since he was usually alone once the shooting was done, he went back to an empty hotel room or flat.

“You look so handsome, I love this outfit.” Yael started to run her fingers through his hair.

“Can’t believe you’re here.” He peppered her face with feather-like kisses.

“Well I almost got deported.” Yael joked kissing him back. “The officer at the airport asked a lot of questions, where was I staying, who I was visiting, blah blah. He wouldn’t believe me I was visiting a movie set, I had to search for an online article of the film.”

He kissed her again. “Hmmm.” He was so distracting. “Sorry for the mess, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“As if knowing that would change anything. Come on.”

He laughed and she pushed him out of his camper. The set was absolutely mindblowing; it looked like it had vintage shops and even a park! She wanted to have a memory from this.

Using her trench coat, Yael placed it over one of his shoulders, she knew he would be the one shooting the target.

“Can you look to your left?”

“Why?”

Yael looked at him over her camera.

Click.

“Because I’m starting a new project; my husband’s work. I’m going to save a shot from every film and character you make.”

***

Next part

Still in jail time, don’t forget to let me know what do you think about these two. You know me, I find inspiration in everything and the samples jar is a great idea for a guest bedroom. Oh! And about those hamburger photos??? I added them last minute 😂 lots of love xx

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #Josef gabcik #anthropoid imagine #cillianmurphy #cillian Murphy x oc #cillian murphy fan fiction #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader

[kitkatopinions]

Combat Goggles for the ship meme?

Alrighty, Yang and Neptune aka Combat Goggles for the rwby shipping ask game.

What I think works about the ship: For real, tell me Yang wouldn't be interested in a guy because they're goofy and amusing and would kind of worship her. Because she definitely would be, and Neptune could be that kind of guy for sure. Yang has a lot of confidence and drive to push Neptune out of his comfort zone. And she's playful and teasing, but also is a lot more intuitive and caring then people give her credit for, which would pair well with the fact that in my head, Neptune is a much more sensitive person than he lets on and cares a lot about what other people think. Yang would inspire confidence in him by just effortlessly demonstrating that being yourself is cool. And for Neptune, he's a friend first and foremost through thick and thin, willing to go the extra mile for Sun, understanding why Sun does what he does, and being a quiet listening ear when Sun goes on and on about Blake, and all of that is something Yang could use in her life. Plus, I'm sorry but they just look good together.

What season I think they were best in: Season two. The show pretty heavily hinted at Neptune's attraction to her in his 'what a woman' moment and they had good chemistry during their mission together.

How I would get them together in canon: I'd legit have it be an 'after the events of the show' ship. Like, all this stuff happens with Salem, and then they're just... supposed to go on with their lives and it leaves Yang kind of reeling. Yang stays on as a Hunter despite the fact that the rest of her team doesn't (Weiss wanting to take care of her brother, Blake working on Faunus rights, and Ruby focusing on helping to rebuild the world,) and she winds up working with Neptune a lot until they kind of just fall into a partnership. I'd have Blake's work cause her and Yang to drift apart, which Yang is hurt by but she tries to be understanding, and pretty soon realizes that all that's needed to turn her and Neptune's 'partners-by-convenience, have an apartment together as friends, go out to dinner all the time because what else would they do after work' relationship into a full blown romance is just asking if he wants that too. So yeah.

How I would get them together in an AU or re-write: Okay, I'd have Neptune connect with Yang during the Vytal dance instead of basically being told to go talk to Weiss. Then after they hit it off at the Vytal dance, they decide to start dating, and Yang makes it clear she only wants something casual and Neptune has feelings for her but agrees and complies with her wishes. After the Fall of Beacon, they go their separate ways, but reconnect once Yang gets to Haven. Neptune (and probably Sun too) decide to travel with them to Atlas after Haven gets shut down, and he and Sun are eager to join Team RWBY in whatever adventures they have and mysteries they might try to solve once again. Neptune winds up paired up with Yang for quite a few missions and when the two go out dancing with Neon Katt and Flynt, they're reminded of the Vytal dance and wind up starting to date for real.

What struggles I think they’d have to work through: I mentioned Neptune's 'womanizer' ways in another Neptune post, so I don't feel like I have to rehash it here, but yeah. To be clear though, I think Yang would be one hundred percent fine with him continuing to be flirty even while they're in a relationship as she's also just a generally flirty person, but it needs to be the 'respect woman' kind of flirting and not the 'you're trying to conceal your misogyny and nobody is fooled' kind of flirting. Yang the character as she should've been wouldn't stand for even a shred of disrespecting women, thank you very much. But tbh, that's the only struggle.

Some songs that I can connect to this ship: Casual, by the Habits. She's so High, Tal Bachman. Message In a Bottle, by Taylor Swift.

Do I think they’d stay together: They'd be the on again off again of the freaking century. They'd break up and make up and break up and make up so many times that their friends can never keep track of it. Like, Ruby brings Yang 'sorry you broke up' cupcakes and is like "hey sis, you wanna watch some of your favorite movies and listen to Taylor Swift?" And Yang's like "Oh I know last week I told you Neptune left me, but this morning he called and asked me to take him back, so we're fine."

How I personally feel about this ship: Fun fact, this is one of the earliest RWBY ships that I shipped! Like many of my early RWBY ships, I no longer ship this because my own fanfics and stuff have majorly evolved, but I still think this ship is fun.

[carlotaflaneur]

#6 november 2023

THERE'S THIS RUSH I'M IN IT MOVES TOO FAST FOR ME

hooooOooooooOooola :-)

how's life ? I'm going through of those periods in which everything feels hard to process and I feel like life is living ME, instead of me living it.

This past weeks Carlota + the flâneurs have been in Alicante, Castelló and Roses, and it's been beautiful !

In Alicante we played in a fairly big concert hall; it wasn't crowded so the feeling from stage was that the room was empty... BUT those who came payed such close attention, that the atmosphere was full of bliss when we finished playing. I met a guy (his name is Andrei) who had been googling what to do in Alicante and he'd found my gig, listened to my songs and decided to come over. The ticket was 15€ and he also bought the vinyl (18€). Now that's investment and trust in Carlota Flâneur !!! Andrei, you can't imagine how much I needed that, you lifted my mood and I'll be forever thankful !!!

We shared the evening with a band called Viscopaf, and the singer's dad also bought my album. He told me: I'm a big fan of Ferran Palau and a while ago I saw him live and it blew my mind, but I have to tell you that your live set has been even more impressive, but don't tell him !!!! hahahahah I believe ferran is not subscribed to my newsletter so all good, we won't tell him hahah

october 2023 – drinking water in Alicante (screenshot from Benja's footage)

Talking to the audience after a gig is what makes the whole "being on the road" thing really worth it. The day after playing in Alicante I had the pleasure to play in Alcoi on my own, at a little festival called "wow festival". I woke up in Alicante super early, and I had a horrible time because I had to take a taxi to the bus station and there were NO taxis ! I stood in the dark for more than 15 minutes and none came. I was so hopeless I began running (guitar, pedalboard, luggage in my hands & back) to the bus station, and then I saw the Alcoi bus standing by a traffic light. The driver told me I didn't need to go all the way to the bus station, I could reach the second station of the line, which was two minutes on foot away. I just had to walk straight to Avenida Salamanca and stand in front of the Lorca Café. I did so !!! It was still dark and I was already sweaty. At the bus stop I met this man who told me he was "el minutero de alicante", I got so moved by his story that I gave him a cd as a gift.

Going to Alcoi was super worth it, because everyone took such good care of me at the festival !!! They prepared vegan beef stew and I was given a really cute souvenir: a wooden spoon that has "alcoi octubre 2023" on it <3

Right after my gig in Alcoi, a woman came and bought my cd and I told her: I'm so sorry my songs are in english, maybe you didn't understand !!! and she said: you have the most beautiful melodies I've heard in a while, your music in english has really moved me !!! you can imagine the happiness spreading within my body after hearing that. Since I had to travel mostly on my own, I didn't bring a lot of merch with me, and I sold all of the vinyls !! some people that wanted the vinyl had to buy a cd instead.

Some days after the trip, I received a wetransfer from Benja Fernández who had recorded us with his handycam in Alicante :-) I guess I'll use some bits for promoting my upcoming gigs, but I felt like sharing the whole video with you, exactly how I received it. In the description you have the timing of the concert ! Borja recorded most of the songs we played. I LOVE having this material... Jordi Paula & Marcel look beautiful.

LASTLY I need to share with you L'ESMORZAR with Núria Graham. It's in catalan but you can find some interviews she's given in english as well. Talking to Núria is really inspiring to me... not only because I've followed her career and I admire her and I am in love with her work... also because she has a vision on music & creativity that gives me peace and hope. Lately (though I try not to think too much about it) numbers and the pressure of being active on social media are making me feel stressed out. And talking to Núria has reminded me of the real thing, the reason why I write songs. Thank you Núria u the best :-)

Carlota

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

The Tsaritsa

You know, since writing a fair bit about La Signora, I was thinking a lot about the Cryo Archon and her subordinates. They're not what I expected.

We're told that the Fatui are an organization answering only to Snezhnaya's leader. They use diplomacy, but their reputation for vicious sadism and brute force precedes them--they're ruthless, leveraging any scrap of political favor thrown their way and exploiting what conflicts they can.

We know this from the Ursa the Drake incident, when Dottore's "defeat" of the beast gave them favorable diplomatic conditions in Mondstadt. We know this from the Vision Hunt Decree, promoted and maintained by Fatui intervention in order to destabilize the country from the inside.

And the Fatui value strength above anything else. Signora's death is not their tragedy and she was not a woman they mourned, because to fall in battle is a sign of weakness.

In Snezhnaya, there is no honor for the dead.

Like so many others the Traveler meets on their journey, they're also deeply devoted to their archon. To join the Fatui is to forsake one's name and one's face in the pursuit of the Tsaritsa's beautiful and terrible dream of a world without Celestia. That so many of her people have taken up her cause is no mean feat, and that she had eleven people so feverishly devoted to her that they would willingly sacrifice everything is intriguing.

But how?

The Tsaritsa is no simple tyrant. She's not Baal. And that's evident from the way she speaks to her subordinates and their opinion of her. Kujou Sara speaks of her archon with reverence and respect, and she devotes herself to Baal's eternity without a second thought--but there's nothing personal about why. It makes Sara, and by extension Baal, seem...more two-dimensional.

But the Tsaritsa, despite being the Cryo Archon, is one hell of a firebrand.

Think about it. She's advocating revolution, full on revolution against the powers that be. The Tsaritsa wants to bring the gods down from the sky and to burn the old world to the ground. And she acknowledges the enormous burden this puts upon her subordinates. She acknowledges that she is demanding their fullest loyalty, devotion beyond reason or ability.

"Sorry...to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me."

What sort of archon apologizes to her subjects?

One that understands, on a visceral level, the sacrifices she asks they make.

Of all the archons, is it such a surprise that she sounds the most human? Because what could be more human than to wish to defeat the divine?

I have many thoughts on visions being a manifestation of human ambition, responding to their will, being tied inextricably to their dreams...and how gods don't simply grant humans power, but help their ambitions become realized. The Tsaritsa is not Venti, with little ambition other than to see his people happy; she is not Zhongli, tired of shouldering that responsibility; she is not Ei, forging ahead while deaf to the cries of her subjects.

The Tsaritsa tells them that the world is brutal, and so is she, but that they can tear it down if they so wished.

And this inspires such fanatic loyalty that it's astonishing to witness.

Cleverer still is how she gathered her Harbingers. They are all, in some form or another, as cruel as their leader. And from what we know, they were all outcasts.

La Signora is the first Harbinger we meet. She wandered Teyvat for centuries, burning away the corruption she saw until she was, perhaps, no longer fit to be called human. The Tsaritsa gives her a path forward--bring down the gods, destroy the Abyss.

Then we meet Childe. He's brash, arrogant, and fundamentally wrong in some way. The lore blames the Abyss for what he's become--a little too bloodthirsty, a little too ambitious, and a little too reckless for other people to tolerate--but the Tsaritsa gives him a place where he can grow in strength as much as he desires.

Scaramouche is next. What was Scaramouche if not a person without a destiny? Does a puppet even have a constellation? Before he was found, he drifted aimlessly. The Tsaritsa gave him a cause to fight for.

And though we have not met Il Dottore in game, we know enough about him to see that he was cast out of the Academia for unauthorized experimentation. The Tsaritsa recruited him with the promise that he would not be accused of heresy.

Though perhaps I give her too much credit. Scaramouche, Signora, and Dottore were recruited directly by Pierro, the first of the Harbingers. And he, too, is intriguing, and his words sum up the general attitude of the Fatui.

Then I shall become instead a fool, a Fatuus, and devote myself to Her Majesty, who understands my pain...

My name is Pierro, The Jester. Please listen to the words I have to say:

Proud Fatui comrades, I know your hearts harbor both the fires of rage and the cold of eternal winter.

Each one of us has borne witness to the absurd callousness of the foundational principles of this world.

So, let us don our masks in mockery of the world as we go forth and rewrite the rules of destiny.

What sets the Tsaritsa apart, I think, is that she understands the rage of her subjects. She seeks out Harbingers who feel the same and tells them that they are not alone, and that there is a better world--they must only build it from the ground.

And what could be more dangerous, more clever than a passionate revolutionary with a talent for recruiting bitter extremists?

Perhaps it is fair to say that only those who possess an obsession close to or even exceeding the level of delusion might be willing to join this group that so rebels against the Heavenly Principles, binding their remaining days to their Delusions and burning as brightly as stars.

Bitter, obsessive extremists. Clever indeed.

#all of the lore i cite is from the wiki #the tsaritsa #aurie character analysis #less analysis and more unstructured rambling lol #the harbingers #genshin impact #genshin fanart #childe #tartaglia #il dottore #la signora #scaramouche

[rayslittlekitten]

The Little Sister

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

A/N: So, this is for this request an Anon sent a while back. I finally got some ideas and inspiration for this. I did change some things from the request. Instead of making the boyfriend “a great guy”, I did the complete opposite. Reader is Rosalind’s sister. I’m sorry it’s taken so long.

RATING: T

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader/OFC; OMC x F!reader/OFC

Plot: After graduating from University in the United States, you come home to London with your boyfriend who you met at University. You then meet Ray for the first time and become quite enchanted by him.

Warnings: none, really. Cursing. That’s about it. Maybe age gap but nothing sexy is going on yet.

You told your sister you didn't need a ride from Heathrow, that you and Brad can take a black cab, but she wouldn't listen because she's your older sister and even though you're 22 years old, you're still her baby sister. After you and your boyfriend gather your luggage, the both of you head over to the waiting area and find a tall Black burly man holding up a sign with your name on it.

"Are you... Bunny?" you ask him.

"Yes, madam. You must be Y/N and Bradley."

"Brad," your boyfriend corrects him.

"Sorry, Brad. Right this way. May I?" Bunny asks, offering to take your luggage. You let him have it and both you and Brad follow him to an SUV.

The ride to wherever this Bunny is taking you and Brad is fairly quiet except for Brad complaining about everything, from the flight to the way how everyone here drives on the opposite sides of the road to not having phone reception. The journey across the pond was a bit rough for both of you.

"Brad, can you please shut up for just one bloody minute?" You plead.

Before Brad can react, your phone goes off. You sigh of relief to see it's your sister.

"'Ello, Rossy!" you greet excitedly. "Yes, we found Bunny and we're on our way to you I'm assuming." You look out the window and recognize some landmarks. “See you soon.”

You had not seen your sister for about a year. You had spent this past Christmas with Brad's family instead of flying home. The last time you saw your brother-in-law was probably much longer than that. Mickey is a very busy man.

After Bunny pulls up to the familiar home, he hops out and opens the door for you.

"Thank you Bunny," you say to him.

Bunny walks over to the other side to open the door for Brad, but he's already out of the car, again complaining.

"Does your sister have Wi-Fi? Does England even have Wi-Fi?" Brad asks.

You don't even bother entertaining him, even though they are real questions to him. You just go to the boot of the car to get your luggage but again, Bunny insists on getting them for you. You leave him to it and head to the front of the house where you find Brad waiting. You ring the door bell and after a few moments, the door opens and you're greeted by a handsome tall man in glasses. His crystal blue eyes pierce through you. His blonde hair is slicked back and he has a neat beard sitting on his face. A face you would love to sit on, actually. Did you really just think that? He's wearing a blue button up shirt, herringbone waistcoat fitting perfectly around his long torso, and a black silk tie around his neck. Your eyes travel down and see his snug dark jeans wrapped around his--

"Hi, you must be Rosalind's sister."

You feel your face getting warm and your eyes shoot back up to his.

"Yes, I was starting to wonder if I had the wrong house," you quickly say.

"I'm sorry, we've never met. I'm Ray. I work with Michael." Ray reaches out his hand and you take it and shake it. His handshake is firm but he also has very soft hands. You look down and notice his slender and long fingers. His pinky has a ring.

"Hi, Ray. It's nice to finally meet you, too." You smile at him. Ray loosens his grip so you follow. If he didn't let go first, you probably would have held his hand forever.

"Hi, I'm Brad!" Your boyfriend suddenly jumps in between you and Ray, extending his hand.

"Hello, Brad. Welcome to the Pearson home." Ray takes his hand and shakes it. He then steps aside to let you and Brad in, with Bunny behind you both.

After stepping in, you walk further in the house you've been to plenty of times, but since it's Brad's first time, he is in awe at the large home.

"So how was your trip?" Ray asks while leading you both.

"I've had bet'ah," you reply flatly.

"You should have taken up on your sister's offer for first class seats," Brad pipes in. You simply roll your eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear you didn't have a good trip. Are you hungry?" Ray asks.

"Famished!" you say.

"Yeah, we only had pretzels and like a chicken sandwich smaller than the size of my palm," Brad scoffs.

"Well, please help yourselves. Rosalind and Michael's home is yours." Ray leads you both to the kitchen.

"You didn't tell me your sister has a butler," Brad quietly says to you.

"I'm not a butler," Ray chuckles. "I'm Michael's right hand, consigliere if you will. Michael is finishing up a meeting and Rosalind is on her way back from the garage so they wanted to make sure someone was here to greet you both upon arrival. You've already met Bunny."

"Yeah, where did he go? Where did our stuff go?" Brad looks around.

"He brought your luggage to your room where you will be staying," Ray tells Brad. Ray then checks the shiny expensive watch on his wrist. "Michael should be coming out of his meeting soon and will see you shortly. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you, Ray," you say, stretching your hand out. Ray takes it and shakes it.

"You're very welcome. It was a pleasure to meet you." Ray brings you hand up to his mouth and you feel his soft lips and blonde beard tickling the back of your hand. "I hope to see you again." Ray throws a wink at you. You are thrown off by his comment and gesture.

"It was a pleasure to meet you too, Brad!" Ray says to him, who is exploring the kitchen cabinets.

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too," Brad turns to Ray for a brief moment.

"Should you need anything if you cannot reach Michael or Rosalind, you can get in contact with me." Ray offers you one of his business cards and you take it.

"Thank you."  You smile at him.

"Y/N!"

You and Ray both follow the voice and see Michael walking towards you.

"Mickey!" You close the distance and give your brother-in-law a hug. "I've missed you!"

"We've missed you too, dear. Sorry we couldn't make it to your graduation but we are really proud of you."

"Thank you. It's alright. I honestly couldn't wait to come home."

"I see you've met Ray." Mickey puts a hand on Ray's shoulder.

"Yes, I have." You nod.

"Michael, this is Brad." Ray presents the man eating something he found in the fridge.

"Hi! I'm Y/N's boyfriend." Brad walks over to Michael and offers his hand.

"Nice to finally meet you, Brad. It's a little refreshing to have a fellow American around." Mickey nods as he shakes his hand.

"Boss, I'm going to go back to the pub to handle some things. Is there anything else you need?" Ray asks.

"No, I can handle it from here," Mickey replies. “See you later tonight?”

“I should be able to finish by then. If not, give Rosalind my best. Good night to you both as well.” Ray waves at you and Brad before taking off.

********************************

During dinner with Brad, Michael and Ros, you can’t help but think about Ray. You’ve heard a lot about Ray but that was the first time you’ve ever actually met him. In fact, you didn’t even really know what he looked like until earlier that day. Ros never mentioned how good looking he is. In that short moment you spent with him earlier, you couldn’t help but fantasize about all the naughty things you want him to do to you.

You feel guilty having these thoughts especially with your boyfriend sitting next to you. Brad satisfies you enough in bed, but he’s not very adventurous. You’ve had to ask him several times just to try a new position. Nothing is wrong with missionary, but it’s the only position he uses and while he does it well, you want to feel wanted, ravaged. Sex feels very clinical with Brad. Also, you still can’t get use to circumcised cocks. You wonder what Ray’s look like. An older man like him probably has a lot of experience with pleasing—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” Ros’s voice snaps you of your thoughts.

“I asked what are you planning on doing now that you’ve graduated University,” Ros repeats herself.

“Oh, well…” you start.

“Ray?” Ros asks.

“R-ray?” you parrot Ros, wondering if Ros was able to read your thoughts.

“Rosalind! Sorry I’m late,” Ray greets Ros with a kiss on her cheek before pulling out the nearest chair and sitting down which happens to be between you and Ros at the head of the table.

“It’s alright, Ray. We ‘aven’t ordered yet. Y/N was just telling us her plans, which reminds me, you and Brad are free to stay as long as you need. Our home is large enough to accommodate you both. I don’t want you living in some shit’ole on the wrong side of town—"

“Always Bossy Rossy,” you roll your eyes and huff.

“Bossy Rossy?” Ray asks with wide eyes and a smirk.

“Don’t be a rude cunt. We ‘ave guests,” Ros points to Brad, who is just quietly watching with wide eyes.

“That word doesn’t mean the same it does back home,” Mickey reassures Brad. “I promise you they’re not insulting each other. That’s just how they talk.”

As the night went on, you had trouble focusing on conversations while your boyfriend sat next to you on one side and Ray on your other. It didn’t help that there was a moment where yours and Ray’s fingers accidentally brushed when you both reached for something at the same time. You also could have sworn his fingers brush the back of your neck when he passed behind you when he excused himself to the rest room. Lastly, every once in a while, your feet would accidentally bump into Ray’s under the table. He’s a tall man and needs the leg room though. You wonder how much room he would need to accommodate what’s hanging between—

“Anyone want coffee? Tea? Sweets?” Ros asks.

*********************************

When you all finally get back to Ros and Mickey’s place, everyone calls it a night. You and Brad had quite a journey today and Ros and Mickey need to be at work tomorrow. As you get in bed, you notice Brad is still on his phone.

“Hey, love,” you cuddle up beside him.

“Hey, babe,” Brad responds without looking up from his phone.

Still feeling a little fired up from dinner, you start kissing Brad’s neck and reach your hand down inside his shorts.

“I’m sorry, babe. Not tonight. I’m kind of tired and still full, ya know?” Brad looks over at you.

“It’s alright,” you sigh. “I’m pretty tired too.” You tuck yourself in and get comfy. You look over at him when you hear him giggling.

“You going to bed any time soon?” you ask.

“Yeah, probably. I’m just talking to Teddy and Seth,” he says, naming his friends.

“Good night, love,” you tell him before closing your eyes.

“Yeah, good night.” He rubs your arm and goes back to his phone.

#Charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #Raymond smith #raymond smith x f! reader #Raymond smith x you #the gentlemen #the gentlemen fanfiction

[theinvisiblecapricorn]

Surprise, surprise.

Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy

Fluffy one shot.

Part 1.

// Introduction //

A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.

So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.

You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.

You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?

That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.

After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.

You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.

Until now…

// End of introduction //

Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.

He clicked on record and looked into the camera.

‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’

// Vinnie’s POV //

It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.

Y/NNNN????

Yo bro, you there???

I miss your voiceeee

Please don’t be asleep already 

Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.

God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.

I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.

( Vinnie & Alex )

‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’

‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’

‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’

‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’

‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’

Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.

‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’

Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.

He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.

// Y/N’s POV //

I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.

I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.

‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.

I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.

Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.

Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.

( Y/N & Nailea )

‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’

I laugh as I see people around looking at us.

‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’

‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’

‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’

Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.

Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:

We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.

This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.

// Vinnie’s POV //

Alex and I walk into the store.

‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’

‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’

I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.

Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.

I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.

‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.

As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.

‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.

‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.

I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.

Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.

After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.

Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.

‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.

‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’

I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.

‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’

Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.

‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’

‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’

‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’

I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.

‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

// Y/N’s POV //

Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.

Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.

As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.

// Vinnie’s POV //

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.

I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.

Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.

As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.

‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.

‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.

‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’

And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.

Click here for part two;

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker smut #imagine vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vhackerr #fluff #one shot #fluffy #smut #tiktok #hype house #imagine #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker blurb #blurb #vinnie hacker angst #angst #alex warren #nailea devora

[reidsbookclub]

Title: Cold December

Pairing : Spencer Reid x reader

WC: 775

Category: ANGST

Requested: yes…kind of?

AN: the lovely @kodiakwhiskey requested a fic based on a song. While this is not the actual request they wanted, this little blurb was a second result of me listening to this song. The actual fic requested will be posted on Tuesday. | italics are flashbacks, bolded italics are song lyrics.

Song inspired by: December by Neck Deep

“i miss your face | You're in my head | There's so many things that I should have said | A year of suffering, a lesson learned”

Spencer was walking through the streets of Virgina, facing the coldest winter he has seen in years. It hadn’t always been like this, even on the snowiest, coldest December, Spencer had been accompanied by warmth. This time there was just one person missing. As he walked through the lonely Virginia streets one fateful scene plagued his mind.

“What do you mean you’re leaving” he hears the cries and silent unspoken plea begging him to stay. “JJ told me she loved me. A future with her would be the first thing that the ‘nerdy, young, baby-faced, won’t last long in the FBI’ Dr. Reid has the possibility of having and I need to see it through. I’m sorry” he says as he slides his wedding band off his finger, leaving it on the nightstand.

Quickly after signing the divorce papers he goes up to JJ to tell her the news about the divorce. Seemingly excited for the possibility of finally having something that his younger self was never given the opportunity of having.

“Why.. why would you do that” JJ asked, shocked written across her face

“You— yo—you said…” bewilderment running through Spencer.

“Spence I love my family I won’t break it apart”

“B-b-u-but..”

“Yes, I love you. You were my first love and I will always love you. But I’m not in love with you. That school girl crush developed into the type of love one has for a sibling. So, as sister I’m asking you, why would you destroy the one good thing you’ve ever known?”

He spent the first couple of months angry at JJ. Spencer felt betrayed, every time he looked at JJ he was reminded of that moment when the pretty girl tricked him into thinking she wanted a kiss. But soon that anger turned into self-anger. He couldn’t understand how a genius was idiot enough to let someone as wonderful, beautiful, and dare he say magical go. He was angry that the one thing he swore he would never do, hurt them, he did in the worst way imaginable.

Three months into the self pity he made the decision to indefinitely stop using his sabbatical as a guest lecturer. Instead he set his heart out to look for the one person carrying half of his heart.

At nights his mind would plague him with memories of a life left behind.

They had always found a way around the arguments and silly fights. That night was their weekly movie date. He wanted to watch something timeless and classical. His other half wanted a rom-com. Both settled for Letters To Juliet, a rom-com loosely based on Romeo and Juliet and its history. “Spence, promise me you’ll take me to Verona one day.” They looked up with the biggest doe eyes Spencer had ever seen. Leaving down to give them a kiss Spencer whispered “I promise my love”

The following morning, Spencer found himself booking a flight to Verona, hoping to find the love he had left behind. That’s how he spent every sabbatical for the past year and a half, traveling to every place they dreamed of going to.

One cold and stormy night, Spencer was sitting on a café, trying to keep himself warm whilst drinking coffee. And as he was looking out the window he saw them standing on the bus stop across the street. He quickly placed more than enough money on the table and bolted out.

Anxiety running through his body, afraid of being seen he followed them. Always 6 feet behind. In that moment he felt like one of the many stalkers he spent his life catching.

But he couldn’t believe his eyes when he found out that the one person he had spent a year looking for had been living just three blocks away from him.

********************************************************

It’s been two years, two years of him walking the cold Virgina streets hoping to actually gather the courage and knock on her door. Anyone that passes by sees the shell of a man who has lost any purpose.

He’s standing there, looking through her window, he has heard the rumor but didn’t want to believe them. She looked older, happier, her now husband kissing her cheek. He noticed how her eyes grew wider with the little girls laughter. And it was at that moment that he found himself wishing he hadn’t walked away from the one real thing he ever knew. It was then that he knew he would never see a warm December again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid angst fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic

[legolasbadass]

A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever​

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug. 

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021! 

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

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[rebrandedbard]

If you are still writing 14?

Okay so this one accidentally went from a drabble to an actual fic whoops. The cure is totally inspired by the Rapunzel fairy tale, spoiler alert, where the prince falls in the thorn bushes around the tower and Rapunzel’s tears fall into his eyes, curing him.

14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

wc: 4444 which is an awesome number I’m so happy lol

Robbed Blind

Someone botches a spell to steal Jaskier’s artistic vision and he’s cursed with blindness. Thankfully, he falls into the company of Ciri and Lambert. They journey safely to Kaer Morhen, but what could be the cure to his affliction?

-

She had found him, tripping over the strings of destiny, in Drakenborg. He’d been on his way to Oxenfurt when the curse took hold, and he had gone no further. Jaskier was haggard, gaunt, and looked quite worn. His hair lay flat from constant fussing. It was a habit Ciri remembered well from his visits, always combing a nervous hand through his hair before a performance. She had never seen it look so lifeless. He needed a mirror, she thought. She would soon realize that a mirror would serve him no purpose.

He was blind. He startled when she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. She’d been so relieved to see a friendly face that she’d run right into his arms, nearly knocking him from the stool in the corner of the tavern. Why should he not catch her as he’d always done? He’d been looking directly at her; she thought he’d merely not recognized her beneath the mud and hood.

“Let me go! Who are you? Stop—stop this now or I’ll give you such a wallop, I’ll—!”

“Jaskier!” Ciri cried, shocked. She flinched away from him as he elbowed her roughly against her temple. She rubbed the spot, standing out of reach.

Jaskier straightened up at once. “Is that—? Little cub, is that you?” he asked. He turned his head as if searching for her and reached out a hand, feeling the air. It was nowhere near.

Ciri took his hand. During their long weeks of travel, she refused to let it go again. She became his eyes, and together they started for Oxenfurt and the safety of its halls.

He’d woken up blind one day, he explained. No warning or explanation. The mage had told him what magic was at play. Someone had tried to steal his artistic vision and the enchantment had gone wrong, stealing from him his very sight.

“Is there not a cure?” Ciri asked.

Jaskier shook his head. “The mage said it was a botched spell. There’s no telling what will fix it, only that it must have something to do with artistic vision. The mage suggested it might be cured by the old methods: kisses and the like; gazing upon true beauty.”

He squinted and took her face between his hands. “I’m looking and looking at you as hard as I can, and I remember you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen when you were first born. So what do mages know? Have you become a pox-faced adolescent or scraggly Medusa? Ah,” he chuckled, “but you’d still be a fairytale princess in my eyes if you had the face of a basilisk.”

She laughed and squirmed out of his hands. “You were always very good at Blind Man’s Bluff. Do you remember when we used to play it? Back then, you were always stumbling; you aren’t stumbling as much anymore.”

“I’ve grown used to it, I suppose. But you are a princess—do you suppose a kiss from you might cure me? How are you with frogs? Ever wake a sleeping prince?”

“No, but we may try it. There’s magic in me of a sort, I know. Here, kneel a moment.”

Jaskier knelt on the dry road and closed his eyes, tapping the lid. “Right here. Give it a go,” he said encouragingly. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll practice on a frog and work our way up.”

Ciri kissed both eyes to be sure. “Alright. Open them. Do you see anything?”

She tried not to get her hopes up, watching Jaskier squeeze his eyes tight. He opened them, blinked several times, and gave her a sad smile.

“Not to worry, we’ll find a pond in no time,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light.

-

“Well! I go to find a cat and find a lioness instead. And a songbird. Must be my lucky day.”

Ciri put herself between the stranger and Jaskier, waving a large branch in warning. “Keep away,” she growled. “If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”

The scruffy man put his hands up and grinned. “I’ve heard what sort of screaming runs in your family. Trust me, I would rather not be around for one of them. Heard it knocked pretty boy flat on his back at your mother’s little Surprise party.”

Jaskier put a hand on Ciri’s shoulder. “Wait a moment,” he said. “I know that moniker. Geralt complained of it before.” He was quiet a moment, stirring up a memory. Then, he lit up, asking excitedly, “Did you say you were looking for a cat? A cat witcher, by chance?”

“Why? Find one up a tree?” the stranger pressed.

Jaskier patted Ciri’s shoulder and strode forward, extending a hand. “You must be Lambert! I’ve heard—” his hand buckled against Lambert’s chest, his stride clearing the distance too quickly “—oh, my apologies. I’ve heard about you before. I was hoping to see you under better circumstances if I ever got the chance. Or to see you at all, really. Damnable timing.”

Lambert looked at him, then took his hand. Ciri watched as the understanding settled in, for Jaskier was staring straight at the man’s forehead, a near lucky guess of his eye line. Lambert wore an expression of pity freely, knowing Jaskier could not see it, though his tone was light and cocky as before. “I always wondered what you saw in that sourpuss, following him as long as you did; now I know you didn’t see anything after all,” he joked.

Jaskier snorted. “It’s new.”

“Ah, so you’ve been blinded by love, have you?”

Jaskier flapped his hand until he felt the brush of Ciri’s sleeve at his side, then he tugged her forward and presented her. He cleared his throat, a tad flushed. “May I introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra. Geralt’s child Surprise.”

Ciri tossed her branch aside. “You know Geralt,” she said.

“They’re brothers.”

Lambert sneered. “He got all the looks, Eskel got the talent, but I got the brains.”

“What little there were to be had,” Jaskier added.

“Oh, ho! You’ll fit right in at the keep, talking like that.”

There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Jaskier nudged Ciri gently forward. “She’ll be safe there. And her wit is more cutting than mine.”

Ciri turned at once to protest. “But what about Ox—”

“And so would you,” Lambert cut in. “A dull knife and a dull wit can be sharpened, and I’d rather keep two knives in my belt than one, whatever their make. Don’t start that maudlin shit with me; you’re coming along.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to protest and Lambert raised a hand. Then, realizing how ineffective that was against one who could not see it, he recovered and smacked the side of Jaskier’s head to shut him up before he started.

“Come on; it’s a long and dull road we have ahead of us, and you’re my entertainment. I want to hear every embarrassing story you can supply. I’ve long run out of blackmail and I’m in need of fresh material. Besides, what better bait for a cat than a twittering bird? If you sing loud enough, we might pick him up along the way.”

-

They were all together in the great hall when at last he came. The figure stood in the doorway, a black dot against the stark white of winter outside. A pair of bags dropped with a thundering bang upon the floor, the sound echoing throughout the room, and the figure bundled up by the fire started awake in fright.

Jaskier patted the blanket beside him, made frantic by his sudden awakening. “Ciri? Ciri!” he called, for she had been asleep next to him what seemed only moments ago.

She paused only a moment to stare at the imposing figure in the light. Something in her shouted, compelling her to go to him. But Jaskier called for her in that voice wrought with panic once more. She flew from the circle of wolves to his side, abandoning her hand of cards, disregarding the man of destiny at the door.

“I’m here,” she said, taking his hands. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always. I’m not going anywhere.” She and the others looked at each other, looked at Geralt, and said not a word.

Jaskier settled and took a deep breath. “I heard something crash. I dreamed—but never mind that.” He sighed, pressing his head to their joined hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s safe here. I’m just not used to you wandering off just yet.”

“I know.” She stroked his hair gently. It was soft again, though not as silky as before. Lambert and Eskel had drawn him a bath for the first time in a long while, but he had not his customary soaps and oils. He was … less bright, his appearance dulled with his mood.

Vesemir had examined him. Countless hours, the wolves had huddled together in the old library, trying to find a cure for Jaskier’s condition to no avail. As time went by, the reality of his situation weighed on Jaskier. He could no longer read his notebook, nor write his music to be remembered. Ciri read his notes aloud and studied the art so she might transcribe them for him, but it was obvious how he felt.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he’d said.

And now he gave her that same false smile, the one that failed to meet his eyes. She missed the lines in the corners and wished they might come back. Perhaps they’d flown off with the crows, frightened of the winter snow.

“Go back to your game,” he whispered. “I’ll head up to bed.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she offered.

He shook his head. “I know the way now. If someone will take me to the stairwell?” he prompted, raising a hand.

Ciri looked at Geralt. There was so little she knew of him—stories and songs … words spared in rumors and stolen from conversations where she lingered unnoticed to listen. What she knew of the wolf and bard she had pieced together with care. For all the tales Jaskier would tell, he would not disparage Geralt before her, and he would not tell the story of the dragon hunt. But dwarves talk. Stories travel and lesser bards would imitate the songs of greater. Witchers collect news of other witchers, and two adults would speak as adults when ale made easy speech. Jaskier had confided in Lambert those tearing words once flung at him upon the mountain. And thus she had put the final piece into place of the great mystery between them.

‘If life could give me one blessing…’

“Who will take him?” she asked. She kept Geralt’s eyes as she rose to her feet. “Who will take him into his hands?”

It was only the barest movement, but she swore she saw the wolf of legend flinch.

Jaskier sat up with a huff. “You make it sound so dramatic. Are we playing at a quest now? Very well, who is my knight errant? The princess has thus decreed a quest is in order: a quest up the perilous tower steps, my-my! Such a task!”

“I should think a white knight is the one suited best for the task,” Vesemir grunted. He shuffled his hand, eyes narrowed at Geralt.

The white knight in question let his cloak fall. He shook the snow from his arms and dusted them slowly, looking at each watching face in turn. His hesitation was clear. When none moved to claim Jaskier, he stepped forward cautiously. Without a word, he took Jaskier’s hand and lifted him to his feet.

Jaskier clapped an arm around his shoulder, hands patting the edge of his long hair. “Ah, thank you, Vesemir,” he said. His hand slipped from Geralt’s armour and he made a face, flicking his wet hand in the air. He prodded the armour curiously. “You’re soaked; I thought you said you’d sent Eskel for the firewood.” He prodded again and bumped against Geralt’s shoulder pad. He pinched it between his fingers, figuring out its shape. He hummed curiously. “What are you wearing? Did you go hunting?”

Geralt stared. Jaskier was not looking at him. Geralt looked at the circle of men by the fireside and there sat Vesemir in silence, watching. He was struck dumb. What … game was this?

“A knight needs a knight’s armour,” Lambert called.

Jaskier laughed. “Oh, of course. Such a soft touch; did you get all dressed up for Ciri? Have I woken in the middle of a game?”

Eskel tossed a card in the middle of the circle. “Yes,” he answered, “but we’ve just started on another, different game.”

“Very cold and calculated,” Ciri agreed.

“Cold and calculated. So a snowball fight has become a snowball war, no doubt born of the most complicated strategies. Shame on the lot of you. You ought to let your elders warm themselves before sending them on tasks. You’re young; you’ve got legs,” Jaskier scolded.

“It was his idea,” Eskel replied.

Vesemir nodded, keeping silent as the game unravelled.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt’s and stood straight and tall in an affected manner. “Come, my good knight,” he said, “and let us bid good night to these slacking youths.”

He started to walk in the general direction of the stair, Geralt turning them with truer aim. Geralt looked over his shoulder at the others, frowning. This was not the sort of confrontation he expected when next he saw Jaskier. If he ever saw him. And here was his child Surprise in their midst without a word of greeting or explanation, and the bard, the two of them together and settled within the walls of the keep.

It was too perplexing for him to puzzle out. And Jaskier was acting strangely. Where were his speeches? Geralt had expected him to argue on sight, or else to pretend all was right and greet him, “Geralt! How good to see you,” or, “Fancy meeting you here,” and play off the mountain like it never happened. Or at the very least to ignore him. But to call him Vesemir and take to his arm? What joke was he playing at?

The answer came as Jaskier dodged the first step and nearly fumbled upon the stair. He clung to Geralt’s arm with a cry and his other hand shot out to grope the wall. He flailed for it, feeling his way from the step outward, then sliding his hand up the side of it. He turned his head, looked at Geralt and laughed. “I’m still not used to these uneven steps,” he said. “Give me time and I’ll be able to find my way around unassisted. By next week, I’ll be able to navigate every pool in the hot springs, then you four will never see me fully dressed again!”

Geralt raised a hand to Jaskier’s face. He rested a thumb just beneath his eye. They were as blue as ever, nothing seemed amiss, and yet …

Jaskier’s smile weakened. He closed his eyes and pushed the hand away. “I know the three of you are working hard to find a cure. I know the jokes fall flat. But I must make them. If I don’t … Vesemir, if I can’t make light of it, the darkness I see will be all I have left.”

He turned toward the stair again, hand firm on Geralt’s arm, the other on the wall. “Right then. Up we go. Just one at a time,” he said. He stepped tentatively forwards, prodding his foot before him until he nudged the base of the first step. “Got it. First is always hardest, isn’t it?”

They carried on. Two steps, three, one after the other slowly. They were uneven by design: a final defense against those who would try to invade their stronghold. The spiral stair favored those who walked it every day, gave advantage to the men who would be at the top, swinging their swords to fight back those who would dare trespass unwitting. It was difficult enough for any stranger with sight. With Jaskier, it was a quest in itself.

Midway up, Geralt thought to carry him. They were going so slowly; it would have been easiest that way. He nearly offered, but stopped. If he spoke, Jaskier would know him. He began to reach an arm out to simply lift him, but Jaskier fumbled once more, his knee hitting the step with a mumbled curse. And Geralt heard him muttering through his teeth as he crouched upon the stair.

“I will learn,” he hissed. “This will not stop me. I refuse to be a burden to anyone. Never again.” He touched his forehead to the step and Geralt put a hand to his back. He was trembling.

When Jaskier rose again, he did not take Geralt’s arm. He reached out and took hold of the wall on either side, arms stretched wide to hold himself up. He proceeded to climb the stair alone. When Geralt reached out to help, Jaskier waved him away.

“No,” he whispered. “We’re nearly at the top. Just let me do this much. Please.”

And Geralt let his hand fall away.

Jaskier reached the landing with a powerful stomp, expecting a final step. He breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the right wall. Geralt followed behind and patted his shoulder. Small congratulations. From there, Jaskier walked down the corridor, tapping when he came upon a wooden door. He passed three, tapped each with his knuckles, counting. When he reached the forth door, he opened it. In this space, he walked with ease away from the wall. He flopped confidently upon the bed and rested a moment as one does after a long journey.

He shucked off his doublet and loosened the laces of his boots. He set these aside at the very foot of the bed where they might easily be found again. He undid the back lace of his trousers, paused, and inclined his head toward the door.

“Are you still there, Vesemir?” he asked.

Geralt did not know how to respond. He stood fixed in the doorway, but dropped his eyes to his feet modestly. After a moment’s wait, Jaskier finished undressing and climbed beneath the heavy furs. A memory stirred—that was not the final task of the evening. What was the last of their routine each night? What was left undone that made this finality seem so abrupt? Geralt realized it in the darkness of the room. He had no candle to blow out.

The truth struck Geralt sharp as a blade to his gut. He stole through the door, walking quietly toward the bed. He sat on the edge, the furs rumpled beneath him, and listened to Jaskier’s breathing. He was not yet asleep—would never be, so soon—but he did not stir.

Geralt took his hand gently.

Jaskier squeezed it back.

“I only wish that had not been the last I’d seen of him,” Jaskier whispered. “I try to remember his smile now. For all my poetry, I can’t remember it clearly. His smiles were so rare, but I don’t suppose you need me to tell you. Or perhaps you do. I don’t know if he smiled here; I know nothing his life in this place. Were you so fortunate that they were commonplace?”

Silent footsteps creeped up the stair. Ciri had waited long enough to follow. Geralt heard no sign of her under the ringing words of Jaskier’s speech. Though he spoke no louder than the breath of the wind, every last syllable echoed like a clap of thunder in his ears.

Jaskier slipped his hand free and turned on his pillow, hugging it close. “I wish I might at least see Ciri now, know how she’s grown. They change so quickly at that age. Does she look like her mother? Does she look like him? Destiny makes strange things of those it touches. She was beginning to look like him, I once thought.”

She saw him well enough, looking through the open door. She crouched behind the wall, listening as she always did in secret, for the things he would not burden her with.

“I always did wonder what you looked like. Geralt spoke once to me of his brothers, his mentor. You’re still stories to me in ways. I know you have long hair, grey with age. I know Lambert is shorn, Eskel is shaggy. I know your voices, your height, and a hundred other things. But do you share his eyes? What color is the armour you wear? How does the sun set over the mountainside? The carpets before the hearth—what pattern is woven there? What thousands of stories do you keep in that library? What do the monsters look like illustrated in the great bestiary?”

He buried his face in his pillow. His voice was muffled, but both Geralt and Ciri could hear the husk in it. “I won’t feel sorry for myself. It doesn’t mean anything—just idle curiosity. It doesn’t matter how the carpet is woven or if you wear brown shirts or red. I’ve seen a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets and stars. I don’t want them!” he barked. He writhed on the bed, his face falling from the pillow, stained with tears. “I don’t! I never needed them, not one! I don’t care—I don’t! None of them are important!”

Geralt rushed forward and took Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier struggled, beating at his chest, and refused to be coddled. “No!” he wailed. “Don’t comfort me, I don’t need it! I don’t want it! I will not be pitied!” But for his hard words, he clung to Geralt’s armour, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s unnecessary. It’s just a bunch of poetry. Useless poetry and songs.”

Jaskier pulled away, Geralt’s hands trailing from his back to his shoulders as he sat up. Geralt held him there before he could retreat more. Before he could think twice of it, Geralt leaned in, his hands cupping Jaskier’s face on either side.

“Vese—”

Something warm and wet fell onto Jaskier’s lashes. He heard a shaky breath, felt the warmth of it upon his face. Another hot tear fell into his other eye and he blinked in surprise, for it was not his own. He sat perfectly still in shock, blinking the falling tears away.

“They were never useless,” Geralt said. “They were always important—all of them.”

Jaskier twitched, raising his head by instinct up to look at the man who held him now. “You were—!”

“I’m sorry. For not speaking before. For … not speaking then. After. And for saying what I did that day.” He wiped the tears beneath Jaskier’s eyes away, an expression of pain twisting his hollowed features. “If I’d not sent you away—I don’t know what’s become of you, but I might have—I could have tried to prevent it. You would still have your sight.”

Jaskier covered Geralt’s hands. “No, Geralt. This is none of your doing. You can’t—”

A loud bump from the hall startled him. Jaskier turned at once to look.

“Ciri,” he breathed.

Ciri had a finger to her mouth and was glaring up at a tall man. They both cowed back, being caught. Jaskier looked between them as Geralt’s hands slipped away. He stood, walking toward them. He looked at Ciri, gaping, their eyes perfectly aligned. Jaskier fell to his knees before her and took her hands without fumbling.

“Ciri,” he said. “You’re so … my good gods, you’ve grown.”

All were still as he reached out, touching her face as though she were made of glass. He smoothed her hair away, taking all of her in. He laughed, new tears falling as he pulled her close and crushed her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful!” he cried. He stroked her hair, cradling her against him as tight as he dared. “And you!” He looked up at the witcher in the hall, reaching out to him and taking his hand. “Which one are you? Say something now, quickly. Let me hear your voice and know you.”

“Eskel,” he answered. And then Jaskier was up on his feet, pulling him into another embrace.

“Eskel!” Jaskier cheered. “Eskel, you look even more heroic than I ever imagined! Oh, let me look at you. Oh, oh! Lambert! Vesemir! Where are you, come forward!”

He dashed into the hall, only to turn on his heel for another look at Eskel, for just one more eyeful of Ciri. Over her shoulder, he saw Geralt sitting there on the bed, his yellow eyes wide, the tears still clinging to his chin.

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered. “Oh, I see. I see.”

He walked forward, gliding a hand beneath Geralt’s jaw. He touched his eyes with his other hand. Carefully, he wiped the last of Geralt’s tears away. It dangled, a little drop at the tip of his finger and he brought it close. He closed his hands around it, cradled them to his chest.

Geralt stood slowly before him. And he smiled.

Ciri tugged at Jaskier’s shirt, her head turned away politely. She cleared her throat and said, “Jaskier? Lambert and Vesemir are on their way up. And you’re … well, you’re not at your most presentable.”

Eskel averted his eyes, his back turned to the scene, however touching. “You might want to get a bit more dressed. And quickly,” he added, for Jaskier was standing in his smallclothes.

Jaskier snorted. “All of you, turn away for decency’s sake! We’re having a moment, here.”

“And what about me?” Geralt asked. “Shall I look away?”

It was nothing but empty jest and Jaskier smiled. “No,” he replied. “No, you’re looking where you’re needed. But I suppose to be fair …”

He clapped a hand over Geralt’s eyes. He leaned forward, whispering against Geralt’s lips. “There. Now no one can see. No one … but me.”

There were no witnesses to that first kiss. It was a secret Jaskier kept for himself.

However, the second, third, and forth had quite a startled audience, as Geralt and Jaskier both fell deaf to the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Ciri took it upon herself to usher the others from the room, explaining on the way. After all, with the curse lifted, she no longer needed to be Jaskier’s eyes. His mouth, however, was currently occupied.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #lambert #eskel #vesemir #I'd tag aiden but he's really only mentioned in passing #ew I came back to look at this and the scene breaks did not transfer over #fixed it now

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout companions react #fallout companions #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas companions react #fnv companions #fnv companions react #arcade israel gannon #arcade gannon #craig boone #lily bowen #raul tejada #raul alfonso tejada #rose of sharon cassidy #cassidy #veronica santangelo #ed-e #rex #fallout 3 #fo3 #enclave #brotherhood of steel

[biaswreckingfics]

To Be Replaced: Part 1

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.5k

“I’m so sorry, babe… You know I want to be home more than anything, but it’s unfortunately not up to me…” your boyfriend sadly tells you through the phone.

“I know, Baek… It’s okay. It’s just one more week and then you’ll be right back home with me.” You hide the sadness you’re feeling from your voice, so he doesn’t worry about you and feel guilty for the toll his career sometimes takes.

He suddenly whines in your ear. “Why does a week feel so long all of a sudden?”

You listen as your boyfriend of three years continues to pout into the phone. Of course, you were sad that he was going to be gone longer than the two of you had originally planned, but you had learned long ago to be understanding in these types of situations. You’ve grown used to dealing with traveling delays when it came to your boyfriend’s schedule. He was an idol and he was certainly “booked and busy”, and often being pulled in eight different directions. You had learned to just go along for the ride to make it easier on him.

This time it was no different. EXO had just wrapped up another world tour, and SM had found time to schedule more appearances for them before they came home. The only upside you could find in this scenario was more exposure for the boys and more interviews for you to watch online which is exactly what you would be doing in your now open week.

“Oh! Babe, I gotta go. There’s this stylist here who has shown me some really cool design ideas, and I think we’re going to collaborate for Privé! I’ll call you later! Love you!”

Your boyfriend suddenly hangs up and you pull your phone away from your ear to look at it. A small smile finds its way on your face thanks to your boyfriend’s antics. Privé was his baby and he had been eager to find inspiration for a new line for his clothing company. Fortunately, it sounded like he had finally found some.

A week later

You pick up the throw pillow on the couch and fluff it up for the third time while you wait for your boyfriend to arrive home. It was an anxious habit you had somehow developed. Whenever Baekhyun was gone for long periods of time, you wanted him to come home to a neat and tidy apartment. It lowered his stress levels and opened up time for the two of you to be together instead of worrying about a dirty house.

You at least hoped he was coming home today. You had hardly spoken to him in the past week, assumingly because he was busy with schedules and trying to finally catch up on sleep. The last you heard; his plane was arriving at 5pm. Which was 20 minutes ago, you note as you look at the clock on the wall.

Your phone rings and you pull it out of your back pocket and check the caller ID. A smile crosses your features as you glance at the name before answering the phone.

“Hello, Oh Sehun.”

“Hey, we’re just about to leave the airport and I’m already thinking about food. Want to go get dinner?”

“My boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, is about to be home. I promise you; dinner is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Sehun makes a disgusted sound in your ear. “I definitely don’t need to hear about you and Baekhyun’s dirty sex life. A ‘no’ would’ve been fine.”

“I wasn’t…” you sigh and glance around the apartment while trying to find patience. “Whatever… No, thank you, Sehun. Please, eat something delicious for me.”

You can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “There’s a joke there… but I’ll let it slide this time. Let’s get together soon, okay?”

“Absolutely, but before you go… Baekhyun is with you, right?” you can’t help but ask.

Sehun pauses at your odd question before slowly asking, “Where else would he be?”

You sink down on the couch once you hear the question he bounces back at you. Obviously, Baekhyun would be with them. “Sorry, dumb question. I just haven’t heard from him in a while, so I wasn’t sure what his schedule was.”

“Why haven’t you heard from him? Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

Your head jerks back in confusion. It was rare for Baekhyun and you to get into an argument, and as your best friend, Sehun knew that.

“No? He was probably just too busy to call.”

Sehun snorts. “I doubt that. We had more free time than any of us expected. Horrible planning on SM’s part, but I won’t bother you with the boring details right now.”

Your brows furrow as even more confusion fills you. What did he mean they had more free time than expected, and if that was the case, why hasn’t Baekhyun called or texted you? You quietly voice your thoughts out loud and Sehun hears you.

“I mean… he was with Maya a lot, but I assume he would’ve talked to you too?”

You lean back into the couch and run the name through your head before coming up empty. “Who’s Maya?”

Rustling from Sehun’s end fills your ears before you hear the sound of a car door shutting. Chanyeol’s deep voice is heard in the background before Sehun responds.

“She’s some designer that was working with one of our stylists. She offered to help Baekhyun design some things for Privé. Didn’t he tell you?”

You hear Chanyeol ask why Sehun is talking about Maya before it must click into place who he is talking to, and he’s suddenly yelling hi to you.

From the sounds of it, the boys knew who she was, so she must be legit. Good. You were happy Baekhyun had someone to help him come up with some new designs. Hopefully, she can help him bring his visions to life, and help him design something really cool.

Sehun and you stay on the phone and talk for a while until you hear keys fumbling against your apartment door. Your heart shoots into your throat and you jump up from the couch in excitement, telling Sehun you have to go and hanging up while waiting for Baekhyun to enter. You hadn’t physically seen your boyfriend in months, and you couldn’t freaking wait to have him back in your arms.

Baekhyun pushes open the door and before he can get all the way inside, you’re running for him and throwing your arms around his neck. He lets out a noise at the impact, but his arms quickly wrap around your waist and he squeezes you tightly.

“I missed you, love.” He mumbles in your ear.

You lean back and find his lips, mumbling a quick “I missed you too” before finally kissing him. The kiss turns more passionate than you intend and Baekhyun blindly closes the apartment door with his foot before turning around and pushing you against it.

“God, I missed the way you taste.”

“Well, I’m right here, Baek, and I’m all yours.”

His eyes darken with lust as a mischievous smirk grows on his face. “Good, because we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

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

A few hours later, Baekhyun and you are laying tangled up in your sheets and catching each other up on everything that had taken place the past couple of months. You told him about the boring things that happened with your work and family, and he shared with you the antics his members pulled while on tour.

When he tells you about Maya, you take in his excitement and the way he’s animatedly talking about all the ideas they were able to come up with, with a smile. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Baekhyun this excited about anything, and it was nice to see that light in his eyes again.

“I’m telling you. She. Is. A genius. I don’t know how she came up with half of her designs, but I’m so happy she offered to help me.”

The way Baekhyun speaks about her makes her seem larger than life, and almost out of this world cool, and the way his heartbeat speeds up because of how excitedly he is talking is nice. Did it bother you that he was talking so eagerly about another woman while the two of you were naked in bed? Maybe the slightest twinge of something was there, but you were more happy for him than anything else.

“I’m happy you got a chance to work together. It sounds like she helped you out a lot.” You smile up at him from where your head was resting on his chest.

“Oh, we’ll have plenty more chances.” When you stare up at him curiously, he continues. “She’s been hired to be one of EXO’s stylists.”

You pause, slightly surprised with the information. “They hired her just like that?”

“I gave her a good recommendation.” Baekhyun shrugs underneath you. “She’s already said she’s willing to keep working with me, so now we’ll have even more time together.”

You stare up at him and take in his beautiful features. When he looks down at you, his glowing face smiles and he kisses your forehead. You can see his excitement at the fact that he gets to continue working with her and you couldn’t be happier that he found someone else he can bounce his ideas off of. He could only ask your opinion so many times before your ideas became stale, and you knew next to nothing about high fashion, so she would be way more helpful than you could ever hope to be.

The next day, you join Baekhyun at a shoot he and the other EXO members had scheduled. You found it hard to believe SM couldn’t give them at least a couple of days off before making them work again, but the selfish part of you was happy because now you could see all the guys at once.

As soon as you walk in, there’s a flurry of movement as directors and lighting men work to get everything set up. You stick close to Baekhyun like usual to stay out of everyone’s way, and quickly spot the guys hanging off to the side on a couple of couches. Baekhyun and you walk hand-in-hand in their direction before a beautiful blonde intercepts you.

“Hey, Baek. I have some more designs for you to look at.” The strange girl flashes a blinding smile at him as her hand comes up to grip his arm. She pulls him in a different direction without so much as a glance at you and he immediately lets go of your hand to follow her.

You stand there stunned as you try to figure out what just happened before looking over at the pair to see them lost in their own world. Judging by the words she spoke, you assume the girl is Maya, but you couldn’t know for sure because Baekhyun didn’t introduce you. It was almost like he forgot you were even there.

You shake it off and continue your trek over to the rest of the guys who all greet you the second you’re within earshot. You see an open spot next to Sehun and immediately drop down into it, catching his attention.

“I see you met Maya.” He dryly comments.

“Did I?” You respond, using as much sarcasm as you can muster. Could you call what just happened a meeting?

Sehun glances over to make sure he was talking about the right person and looks back at you with a roll of his eyes. “They were like that the whole time abroad too. It’s like she’s fucking sticky tape.”

You look back over at Maya and take a better look at her appearance. She was gorgeous with long legs that seemed to go on for miles. She gave off European model vibes like she was putting “I’m too sexy and cool, so don’t talk to me” in the air. You feel a twinge of insecurity and immediately stamp it out. Sure, she is gorgeous, but Baekhyun loves you and you had no doubts about that.

“She looks like a model.” You comment causing Sehun to snort.

“She was a model. I guess she decided designing was more her passion.

Oh…

You spend the rest of the day hanging out with the guys or playing on your phone. You had hardly seen Baekhyun since you got here. Maybe a quick “hi” once or twice before Maya was pulling him away again, so you were beyond relieved when the crew was wrapping up for the day and Baekhyun suddenly appeared next to you.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I’ve been so busy today. You were probably bored out of your mind.” He says while he leans over the couch and hugs you from behind.

“It’s okay.” You pat his hand before standing up and walking around the couch to him. “The guys kept me plenty entertained… but I’m ready to finally be with you...”

He pulls you into his arms and gives you a tight hug that you want to stay wrapped up in forever. However, you’re pulled out of the moment when you feel someone’s hand graze your arms as they touch Baekhyun’s lower back. A throat clearing has you and Baekhyun looking behind him, and you meet the eyes of none other than Maya.

Baekhyun quickly moves over to your side and wraps an arm around your waist before turning to face the newcomer. “Hey, Maya! There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Y/N.”

Her expression is unreadable as she looks you up and down like she’s appraising you.  “What do you do for the company?”

You blink a couple of times at her indifferent tone while Baekhyun gives her a weird look.

“Y/N’s my girlfriend… I told you about her on tour.”

Her face changes and you see the exact moment a mask slides into place. She gives you a fake smile while she waves away Baekhyun’s words.

“Oh, right. The girlfriend.” She lets out a light giggle that sounds completely out of place. “I guess I just had other things on my mind when you were talking about her.”

You stare at her as her and Baekhyun continue to talk and try to ignore the bad vibes you were getting from the introduction you just had with her. So many thoughts ran through your head, but you take one look at Baekhyun and decide to keep them to yourself. He looked happier and more relaxed than he has in a while, and you didn’t want anything to ruin that.

You couldn’t be happier that he has found someone to share his passion with… but a part of you was incredibly bummed out that it was no longer you.

Tagging: @gyukult @marovekian1 @making-me-blush @softforqiankun​ @sebootyforlife​ @nothingbutadeadesceane​ @cardtak​ @brie02​ @jungkooksworld18​ @insta1010​ @suhappysuho​ @purple-bell​

#to be replaced #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun series #byun baekhyun scenario #byun baekhyun series #baekhyun angst #baekhyun au #byun baekhyun angst #byun baekhyun au #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #exo angst #exo au scenarios #exo au series #exo au #exo fanfic #exo fic #exo fic rec #exo fanfiction #exo fics #exo scenario #exo series #exo scenarios #exo x reader

[bukojuiice]

25 lives — katsuki bakugo

ೃ  pairing: pro! hero katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: alternate universe/time traveler au,  a lot of angst, fluff but the sentimental and nostalgic kind, flashbacks, bakugo travels through so many parallel worlds just to find you.

ೃ  warnings: strong language. wc: 4,764 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau 

ೃ i created a spotify playlist for this fic, feel free to listen to it while reading here!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

 ೃ  Heavily Inspired by one of my favorite written poetry/prose of all time, 25 Lives by Tongari. The poem will be heavily referenced and mentioned in this fic!  The lines from said poem can be identified [❝ like this❞.]

 ೃ After losing the love of his life in a brutal villain incident, Katsuki Bakugo had lost a part of him. Nothing and no one could ever bring her back. He became the shell of a person he once was; fiery, bright, and the driven #2 Pro-hero in the country. He continues to live life with guilt, all hope still lost until he is gifted a time device that can transport him to parallel universes, dimensions and alternate worlds, where he begins his quest to find his lost love. Crossing a hundred of realities and living twenty-five lifetimes just to bring her back into his arms.

“Stars die. they die and they are not sorry

No matter how much the moon says otherwise.

Stars die and your whole galaxy explodes.”

For the majority of Katsuki Bakugo’s life, he is the main star of the show.

Then, you came into his life and made everything else feel like a rehearsal.

In a world where he mostly treated everyone in his life as extras, you were the main heroine.

When he put up walls around himself, you brought them crashing down.

To him, the concept of love and loving someone romantically was foreign. It always came to him as a question, If whether or not love was something worth living for and sacrificing for, giving your half to another person to be whole, when he can already live for himself.

It was always a question… until you became the answer.

 “Use my new baby wisely! Okay, Bakugo-san!?”

Hatsume Mei, a schoolmate of Katsuki back in his UA days, warned him cautiously. She was now an esteemed scientist, one of the best in the country. Katsuki was the first one to come into her mind when she finally completed her new invention, a gadget that can transfer a person’s soul and being to a different body; one in a different space time continuum.

It was as if living a new and different life.

In another universe.

The concept of the device was pretty straight-forward. You are able to go to different dimensions and live the life of your other self; then if it wasn’t the world you wanted to live in, you are free to disappear and go to another parallel universe. It raised skepticism at first and it sounded too good to be true, as how could something as extravagant and complex as this become possible? But they were living in a world full of heroes with the most unique and bizarre quirks, so why can’t it be possible?

This was his chance.

Maybe, with this, he can bring back (Y/N)…

All along, there had been hope.

He was finally going to see her again.

His thoughts bring him back to the day of the incident.

What was reported to be a regular villain attack, escalated into something that no one could expect.

She was the only casualty-

 And he was a minute too late.

Was he not fast enough? What could have happened if he had gotten there in time? Hundreds of hundreds of scenarios of what could’ve been still continue to haunt him until this very day, what could have happened if he had only arrived there earlier to save her? The things he would do to see her beautiful face and feel her calming presence once more, to see the loving woman he went back to after a tiring day, to pepper kisses on, to be dancing with in the kitchen at 2 am, to be the sharing the first cup of coffee with in the morning, the one to wake up to every single morning…

The one whom you’d share the rest of your life with.

But, now… that life was gone.

Seeing your limp and unmoving body surrounded by debris was the most devastating experience and image he had to see and go through in his entire life.

He could do nothing but hold you in his arms, gritting his teeth, tears streaming down from his cheeks, feeling nothing but frustration and powerlessness as the world came crashing down on him.

 “Dammit (Y/N!) Why you? Why did it have to be you?”

Your resting eyes and dormant body remain steady and… cold. Your boyfriend rests his head on your shoulder, trying to hide that he was bawling in pain and sorrow. Katsuki began to feel the weight of his emotions pulling him down, his thoughts reminding him of his past failures and mistakes, and now that this accident that met your demise became one of those said mistakes, how will he be able to recover? If he was able to overcome his demons and insecurities solely because of you, his friends, and his parental figures to guide him… will he even be able to do the same once again?

He was the #2 Pro Hero too… What will the public think of him?

After he had failed to save the one that he had loved the most?

It has been a year since then.

Katsuki’s life went on without you. 

Well, of course it did, Of course it does. It was just an ending, they told him. Not the end.

He told the general public that he had been slowly recovering and that he was able to bounce back to his usual explosive self. Still yelling, still being the competitive and pompous ass he is, even as a Pro-hero. But his friends and family weren’t dumb. Kirishima, his closest confidante knew there was something wrong with him. His parents noticed too that he still wasn’t himself. All of them did.

They all knew Katsuki still hasn’t recovered from the incident at all.

I mean, who would right?

It was perfectly normal to mourn. It was part of the healing process. The Pro Hero Dynamight still can’t move on and that feeling was valid. It takes time to fully heal and he had already made it clear time and time again that he will never ever love someone like the way he loved (Y/N).

But, if there was a way to bring her back, then he wanted to take that chance.

When Izuku heard of news from Hatsume Mei’s newest invention, Katsuki’s green-haired childhood friend immediately told him about it.

Although he was unsure at first, the quirky scientist assured him to wait a little bit more for the trials of the device to finish if he wasn’t sure about it. And when her test subject came back safely, bringing home their lost relative from another universe, that was when Katsuki became sure of his plans.

This was the key to bring (Y/N) back.

It wasn’t going to be easy but he would do absolutely everything just to see you again.

And with that, the day of his world-jumping adventure (literally) had finally arrived.

Bidding farewell to his family and friends, a small gut feeling inside of him says that this might be the last time he’ll ever see them again… and so, in the most Katsuki Bakugo fashion ever, he thanked everyone present that day… indirectly. He expressed appreciation to those who supported him and helped him throughout his life.

Now, it was his time to find the girl who had been there for him the most.

(through his darkest times and saddest nights, she was the ray of sunshine.)

He took a deep breath, turning to his loved ones one last time, a solemn nod yet the cheekiest smirk present on his face as he disappears, whisked away to another world.

The parallel universes that he was going through dropped him into different years of his life. So, Bakugo had to adapt to knowing what age his other self was in the timeline he was currently in. He was lucky that most of the time he landed in a world and at the time where he was a student at UA.

The time where he originally met you.

He needed to take note of every world he had been too because not only were each and every one so different. Katsuki wasn’t a poetic person (his vocabulary mostly composed of colorful words.) but as he continued to jump through so many parallel universes, he had begun to take note of the ones that stood out to him the most. In the form of a poem, one that he thought you would appreciate when he finally reunites with you. Another you at least.

[❝ The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.❞

✧  This is the first parallel universe in where you were an upperclassman. From Class 3-A. A friend of Nejire, one of the big three. Katsuki was so delighted to see you, only for you to not know him. He was currently one of the most popular students in UA, of course he is, but you paid him no attention, passing by him in the hallways as if he was just another regular freshman, instead, you were seen holding hands with some slimey-looking guy that Katsuki has never ever seen in school. This wasn’t you. Or, at least, this wasn’t the (Y/N) he was looking for. This was only the first parallel world. He wasn’t going to give up.

[❝  The next time you are brunette, and you do.❞ ]

✧ Unrequited love. What a stupid cliché. In this world, he was an idiot too far up his own ass, whilst the entirety of Class 1-A loathed him and did not look up to him like the way they did in his original world. Katsuki was so caught up in trying to change his personality, that he failed to notice you. The girl who was always in the back of the classroom, looking out the window. You were always just there. Never noticed. Admiring him from afar.

[❝ After a while I give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything. because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you. ❞ ]

✧  This was practically the same world that Katsuki originated from. Only you were missing. Every single event that transpired in his life, had happened in this parallel universe. The USJ Incident, The Forest Camp Training, The Trip to to Nabu Island… everything. There was this huge empty space that you were supposed to fill. Except, you didn’t exist in this universe. It was the quietness and the lack of your presence in this world that bothers him. Katsuki wonders how this other self of his could continue this life without you in the picture.

[❝ I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together, when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me. ❞ ]

✧  This universe surprised him with puppy love. Here, he was brought back to his childhood. You were his dearest friend and childhood sweetheart. The three of you along with Deku, were a trio. At a very young age, you kept his feet on the ground, never wanting him to think that he was above everyone else despite his powerful quirk. The young Bakugo was able to share his frustrations and insecurities to you, while you always listened. You were always there. He talked about his quirk and his complaints about how the other kids only liked him for his powers, but not for who he actually is. You continued to support him and love him wholesomely for who he was and he was glad to have a friend like you and…. Deku. (as much as he didn’t want to admit it 

However, it ended there. The two of you lying down on the hill, looking up at the stars, and shyly holding hands. Just randomly faded away. And in a blink of an eye, the timeline shifts forward to middle school. His worst years, he would say.

He was so eager to see you again and hopefully remain friends with Izuku after all this time.

Yet, you were nowhere to be found and… Izuku wasn’t his friend anymore.

Apparently, the two of you became distant after graduating elementary because you moved away and never got into contact with him ever again.

This was too heartbreaking for this universe’s Bakugo. To have such a wonderful and healthy social life when he was a kid, only for all of that to just disappear when he started middle school. On to the next parallel world then.

[❝ I love how you play along with my bad ideas, before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas. And in our times together I have many bad ideas.❞ ]

✧  The Sludge Villain. A very traumatizing experience that still haunts Katsuki until this very day. In this world, you were still friends with him. Always following him around and making sure he didn’t get into trouble. He continuously pushes you away, telling you that he didn���t need you and you shouldn’t be controlling of him.

You finally had enough of his arrogance that day and… got into an argument with him.  It was the same day as the Sludge Villain incident.

It happened in this universe too.

After he was captured by said villain, you ran after him, tears welling up in your eyes, wanting to reach out and save him. The sludge villain noticed you, and became more interested in your quirk, targeting you instead. All Might was a little too late and…

The incident led you to losing your quirk and having to live in a hospital for the rest of your years.

It felt like a long bad dream. One that reminded him of your demise in his original world. Bakugo immediately teleported to a different parallel universe. Not wanting to deal with that kind of sadness ever again.

[❝ When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you. Yet, always, you forgive me.❞ ]

✧ In this universe, you were in the same hero agency. Not knowing each other prior to this. Bakugo was the new hotshot that all the other heroes in your agency were going crazy about, just because he was from UA and was attractive. You didn’t get the hype and why everyone else was fawning over him. He was a Pro-hero just like all of you. So, when you finally met him in the flesh, you could immediately tell he was a conceited ass by the way he looked at you and by the way he presented himself.

Unbeknownst to you, Dynamight’s heart was fluttering with happiness at the sight of seeing you again. Your Pro-hero self. Caring, Bad-ass, Confident, and Courageous… It was you.

Almost you.

After being partnered up with him in hero work for the past months, he began to turn soft, a bit annoying, and act flustered whenever you were around which you immediately thought was very out of character for him.

Then he confesses.

You said no.

It just didn’t feel right. First, your hero career was more important to you and you just couldn’t reciprocate those feelings back. The two of you weren’t for each other, and he understood that. He left you for a moment to go get get some “fresh air.”

Bakugo was getting frustrated. His mind going hazy at the thought that he’s gone to so many parallel worlds yet still haven’t found you is slowly beginning to take a toll on him. But he still wasn’t going to give up.

[❝ As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist, and the ones where we just, barely, never meet. I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.❞ ]

✧  The next alternate worlds he went to were an absolute mess. One of them where the two of you barely meet. Merely passing by each other in the street, opening the door for you or entering the same convenience store. Fate not wanting the two of you to meet. Like magnets being pulled away from each other. A romance movie without the romance. As if telling Katsuki that the two of you were never meant to meet in this universe. Don’t even bother.

Then there’s the other one where you were a merciless villain and he was a pro-hero who had to defeat you. He couldn’t do that. You overpowered him.

But, hey, at least he got to see you as the girl who didn’t put up with his shit and could care less about him. Not to mention you were a part of the organization that was against everything that he stood for as a hero.

It was a tragedy. Not the Romeo and Juliet kind, but reminiscent of it. With Romeo sacrificing his life, yet Juliet remains the same and indifferent.

[❝ But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways. Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder is this the last time? Is that really you? And what if you’re perfectly happy without me?❞ ]

✧ Bakugo was finally teleported to a reality where he was a high school student again. However, he wasn’t studying in UA. Instead, having to go to a regular high school (which he was totally irritated about because why is his parallel self here going to a regular school in the first place? What happened to him?) The two of you pass by each other on your way home. Going off in different directions. You were a student at UA, laughing and mindlessly chatting with his friends. Mina, Kirishima, Denki, and Sero…

All of you barely even noticing him and acknowledging his presence.

At this moment, he realized that maybe you weren’t meant to meet in this world again. He felt like a simple character in the background. A small speck of dust in your universe. God, why was he thinking this? This wasn’t like him. He slowly lost his confidence as he goes from one parallel world to the next to find you. He couldn’t even motivate and give himself pep talks anymore. Has he reached the breaking point? Is he still even himself? Is he still Katsuki Bakugo?

Maybe, he should just give up trying at this point. Every single alternate reality so far all ended in tragedy. Not once were the two of you able to reconcile and have a happy ending. It was not like him to give up, but the chances at this point were slim and in each alternate universe, Bakugo just become more and more disappointed with how things turned out with your other-worldly selves…

It was as if the only universe where the two of you became happy was in his original world.

Was he going to stop here?

[❝ Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes.❞ ]

✧  This was it. The twenty-fifth parallel world. Hopefully, the last one that he has to go to and hopefully the one where he finally he finds you.

Bakugo jumps into the portal, expecting the vibrant colors and hues of the city to appear around him, only for him to be transported to a white box.

In the middle of this white void was a cherry blossom tree. Blooming in the prettiest pink colors, and swaying with the non-existent wind. Near it was a small bench. A feminine figure sitting on it, facing the tree.

It was you.

You.

Katsuki knows it’s you because it’s the same dress you wore that day.

A beautiful blue dress that the two of you bought when you were out for some errands. It was the kind of blue that reminded you of the sky, which is why you bought it in the first place. You were saving it for that day, to wear when you visit Katsuki at work and drop him off his bento lunch.

That day.

Instead of a sky reflecting off of your dress, it became grey. Like the color of a storm instead.

He remembers fondly what happened at that same morning. He was getting ready for hero work, whilst you were rummaging for something inside the closet.

“Ahah!” You exclaimed, finally pulling out something to wear. The sound of the wardrobe hangers clinking from the inside.

Katsuki wanted to take a peek of you but you were giving him no chances. You see him trying to take a look when you noticed his blonde hair spiking up more than usual.

“Hey! No peeking!” You giggled, hiding yourself even further inside your closet.

“Gah. Come on! Just one?” He groans, teasing you, trying his best to pull out his puppy tone. “Please?”

“No.” You deadpanned seriously and you could practically feel him pop a vein.

“Hey! What was that for!? I was just joking-“

“I was just joking too you weirdo.” You giggled again, stepping out of the closet. You take a deep breath and straighten your dress, twirling around for him to see. “How do I look?”

He dashes towards you, picking you up from the ground as he begins to twirl you around.

“Katsuki! Put me down!” You chuckle, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you. “You’re going to be late for work!” You tap his back lightly, trying to get him to put you back on the ground.

“You’re beautiful. You always are.” He says seriously. Not a tinge of playfulness or abrasive in his voice. He was still holding you up, but positioned you in a way that the both of your faces were inches away from each other, gazing at each other’s eyes.

The both of you lean in for a sweet and blissful kiss. It felt light and comforting. A feeling that you always have whenever you were with him. A very giddy feeling.

And at that same day, when he saw you again, surrounded by darkness, your eyes closed, your body tranquil and your gentle face looking ever so at peace…

You still looked beautiful, even then.

“Suki-kun.” You wave at him from afar, a solemn smile present on your face. You beckon him to sit next to you but he hesitates.

“(Y/N)…” His voice cracks, not really noticeable, but you could hear it. “Tch… are you.. real? Is this really you?”

“It’s me, love.” You continue to show him your smile. As you blink, you were suddenly caught in his arms. Katsuki was hugging you tightly like there was no tomorrow, his head nestled on your shoulder. His hug felt warm yet cold, like he had been hugging skeletons all this time whilst trying to find you.

You had no words to say to him.

It was just that kind of moment.

Hearing your voice, hugging you tight, holding your hand, and seeing your smile was enough for him at the moment.

This was you.

Actually you.

“It seemed like a lifetime ago when I began searching for you.” He whispered softly, his voice still so rough yet loving all the same.  

A lifetime of pain and sorrow. Of disappointment and missed opportunities.

“Ah…” Your voice trails off. “We don’t have much time left.”

“Huh? What the hell do you mean?” You untangle yourself from his arms, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb whilst he holds your hand still.

“I-I can’t go back to our original universe.” You mumble, trying to fight back the tears and continuing to caress his face. “We can’t go back together.”

“(Y/N)!” Bakugo’s face goes stern, as realization hits him. “Shit! (Y/N)! Look, We can get out of here okay!? There’s this device I have-“ The device on his wrist dissolves into nothing as the room around you begins to be consumed by darkness, like sucking you into a black hole.

“Katsuki… no. It’s hopeless! We can’t-“

“Damn it (Y/N)! I’ve traveled through every fucking imaginable universe possible just to find you again! I’ve gone through hell and back just to see you again! I’m not going to leave without you!”

Before you could answer his rebuttal, the bench that both of you were sitting on vanishes and now the two of you were falling in an endless black hole.

As this parallel world around you began spinning faster and faster, the two of you floated upwards, hands locked tightly together, and your eyes sad and bewildered.

The two of you watched as your faces grew younger back to your high school years, like this universe was going in reverse, moving the both of you backwards in time.

You were still holding onto Katsuki’s hands, trying to savor the last few moments with him as you began to say your goodbyes, tears coursing down your face.

“Katsuki… I know you had seen things you wish you hadn’t. You have done things you wish you could take back and I know you’ve been wondering why you’ve been thrown into all of this, why you had to suffer the way you did and why you had to go through so much just to find me. The ghost of me. And as you were going through all these alternate universes alone and hurting, I wish I could tell you that it’s okay. Even if you don’t find me again, I will always be here. My presence will always be lingering. I will live in your heart, Katsuki Bakugo. You deserve the whole world for traveling through twenty-five lifetimes just to look for me. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my being, and all that is left of me… I love you.”

“I-I love you too. Through all these lifetimes I’ve spent with another you, you will always be the one.” Katsuki mumbled, pulling you for one last kiss.

A kiss ever so soft and sweet, worth all the lives he’s experienced.

“Let’s meet again in another lifetime.”

Time continued to reverse back, to the point you no longer knew who you were with. Their face being blocked by a gleam of light. You were grasping the hands of a stranger, but you didn’t let go. And neither did they.

For a moment, there was a calming presence. A whole new world was opening up like a vortex, swallowing the both of you…

Into a whole new universe.

“(Y/N)-chan! Wait up!”

“Oh? Ochaco-chan!”

The brown-haired girl catches up to you, holding on to your arm as she catches her breath. “Can you believe it’s our first day in UA!?”

“I can’t believe it either!” You giggle along with her, taking in the sight that was the top hero academy of Japan.

It was finally the month of April.

The Cherry blossoms were blooming, symbolizing a time of renewal, a time for change and a time to turn over a new leaf.

Today is your first day in UA  Academy.

You still haven’t even grasped the fact that you even got in the first place.

Everything still feels so surreal.

The entrance exams and the excitement you felt whilst waiting for the results to release and now, you were about to step foot into the school of your dreams?

What an amazing start to your high school life indeed.

You and Ochaco were standing in the middle of the walkway, still in awe of all the pretty sights when someone bumped into you.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You called out.

No response.

You turn to take a good look at the person who knocked against you and it was… a guy.

Blonde. Spiky Hair. Hand in his Pockets. Earphones on. His pants worn loose.

God, what a dork.

“It’s alright (Y/N)-chan! He probably didn’t hear us.” Ochaco assured you, trying to pull you away from him before you could even start a fight.

You sighed, turning to your friend with a smile. “Fine. Fineee. Shall we head to class?”

“Class 1-A! Here we go!” She holds onto your arm once more as the both of you giggle and hop your way into the classroom.

“Ochaco-chan! What are you saying!? You do know I got sorted into a different class right? I’m in Class 1-B!”

“A-ah! You’re right! I’m sorryyyy (Y/N)-chan!”

Bakugo turns his head to look back at your animated figure walking behind him. He stares at you for a good second whilst readjusting the earphone on his left ear, as he too, heads on his way to his Class 1-A.

There is something so delicate about time, so fragile. In a slight moment, you can miss something so pivotal, yet never have the chance to see or witness it ever again.

 Feeling the presence of the person you would be spending the rest of your life with, joining the dots in the sky, and wondering when your stars would align.

Until then, you will dream of him, and he will do the same. 

It was only a matter of time. You will cross paths again.

[❝ until I find the one where you’ll return to me.❞ ]

- Fin.

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​ @sparkykatsuki​ @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy @drinktheramune​

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo angst #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n #mha angst #bnha angst #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n

[weirdochick56]

The Bodyguard 2- Bucky Barnes AU

Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, insults, snark, and sassy!Buckster sexy times (ok, so maybe only slightly sexy)

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots or Characters mentioned

Word Count: 5, 173 words

Summary: The Reader and Bucky’s hate for eachother is at an all time high; she can’t seem to rid herself of him and he, well he can’t seem to get her to cooperate with him. But as their frustrations grow, a late-night outing might just be what they both need to see other parts of eachother. 

A/n: This has been a long time in the making, but I finally felt inspired enough to continue the story. Hope you enjoy it!

~The Bodyguard 1~

***

“You can stop following me now,” you grumble with thorny irritation, rolling your eyes at the tall persistent shadow staying hot on your tail. 

It was in vain to ask him to leave, you knew. Agent Brainless was ridiculously adamant about following you around the moment you stepped foot outside of the palace and he was -infuriatingly so- a stubborn man.

How he knew that you were leaving even when you had concocted what you considered a genius plan to evade those infuriatingly pretty grey irises was beyond you.

He sighs at your words, and you can see the annoyance bubbling to the surface of his cold professional exterior, though he tries his hardest to keep a straight face. 

“Your highness, I think we both know I won’t do that,” he responds simply. “Now if you would please stop being so stubborn and simply do as I ask and come with me to the car so that this is easier for us both...” 

You can tell his patience is wearing thin because, in the past few weeks of having him follow you everywhere you went, you had made it a point to figure out his exact breaking point. 

And as you continue making your escape to town like he isn’t even there, you know that so is yours. If there’s anything that can give you that deep burning satisfaction you sought with everything you did, it was pissing Agent Barnes off.

He had patiently asked you to retreat back the way you came so he could “safely” transport you in a castle-owned car, but you refused redundantly because your friend was already waiting for you, but maybe also because you loved the little twitch of his eye every time you refused to listen to his directions.

If you were being completely honest, he really should’ve been asking you to come back to the castle and not go to a club in town at all- as per your father’s orders. But you weren’t fond of said orders and you definitely didn’t want some dark and mysterious shadow following you around during a night of fun with friends. 

“No,” is all you say because in the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him you’ve noticed he’s the most infuriated when your responses are curt and nonchalant. 

You want to see him snap oh so bad...seeing those steely grays lose their cool? Gold. 

“Princess...” he growls in warning, daring you to cut that little thread of control he had left in him with your sharp tongue. 

You don’t look back at him even once enjoying the thrill that travels up your spine at his low-timbre words and the way his voice travels straight to your core, tugging at your short black dress lightly. 

You wanted to see what he would do should he be pushed over the edge. It was fun.

“I already told you, I’m not listening to you. My friend is already waiting for me. And I’m sorry if you have an issue with- Ahh!” Your words choke back into your throat and morph into a shocked yelp when big rough hands grip your hips, spinning you around and without much of a warning, lifting you with incredible ease.

Before you know it, you’re being carelessly thrown over a broad, strong shoulder.

You let out a small ‘oomph’ when the wind gets knocked out of you and all you see is a firm ass, the blood rushing to your head. 

“What the hell do your think you’re doing you absolute buffoon?!” You screech hysterically, wriggling aggressively against his hold on your thighs. 

He barely flinches, only wrapping his muscular arm tighter around your legs and adjusting you on his shoulder like it was a mere midnight stroll for him and you weighed no more than what a feather did. 

“I’m taking you to the car,” he informs as if it’s obvious, voice full with obnoxious satisfaction. 

“Get your filthy hands off me this instant you utter and complete idiot!” You growl, twisting harshly but he doesn’t let go so you start pounding on his firm back with your fists, fighting to free yourself of him. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

He just laughs at what seems to be your weak attempts to break away. He laughs.

You gasp at the absolute and complete audacity he has of laughing when he’s treating you, the single heir to the Androvian throne, like a sack of potatoes. 

“You ass!” You wriggle around some more, tugging at his hands to try to pry them off your legs but all he does is smack them away as if they were mere pesky flies. 

“I may be,” he chokes back a small snort but only barely. “But at least I’m the only ass trying to keep your reckless self in check, princess.”

Indignation, humiliation, and utter vexation all burn deep inside you like a thrumming fire ready to ravage everything in its way when it got the chance to escape your body as you slowly fall limp against him. 

Resignation comes hand in hand with the deep desire for revenge and you fist your hands in deep ache to somehow exercise it. 

He carries you all the way to the garage of cars in the back part of the castle, walks over to a black SUV out of all the expensive cars to choose from, opens it and all but throws you into the back leather seats like you’re not a fucking human, much less the princess of the land he’s currently stepping in. 

You land flat on your back in the smooth leather interior of the luxury SUV with a small thud and instantly sit up to glare at him heatedly. “Do you have any idea who I am? Be gentle, you brute!” 

Annoyingly enough, he simply ignores you and leans over your body. His heat floods through your bare skin and feels good for a second and you subtly inhale his musky scent as he tugs on the seatbelt, roughly pulling it over you. 

You forget about your hatred for him for a split second and that only makes you angrier when it comes back full force. 

You fucking idiot, Y/n. 

In a last and desperate attempt of defiance, you try to push his hands away to which he responds by firmly pressing you back by your shoulder into your seat and staring you dead in the eye with blazing grey eyes. 

The fire that swirls in them is...something. Not necessarily scary, but intimidating and...something else.

Something that makes your skin flush and your nerves throb to life. 

You stare right back, tilting your chin up to show him you weren’t backing down or scared of him and his brute force. He got too under your skin and you knew you got under his which only offered you only a limited amount of comfort. 

He clenches his jaw as he clicks the seatbelt into place, never looking away from your challenging gaze. As if to stick another dagger into your burning insides. As if to reassert his power here. 

Your labored breaths are all that can be heard for miles to come in the calm night air and he leans close for a second, your heaving chests gently brushing.

Not meaning for it to happen, you feel your nipples harden beneath the flimsy fabric of your black party dress and you wonder if you imagine his hands clenching around your shoulder -his fingers digging into your flesh with suppression- or the sly flick of his eyes from your eyes to your lips. 

You wonder if you imagine the look of heat that passes over his eyes when your breaths mix the second time seems to stop and an overwhelming emotion washes over you. 

But then it’s gone as soon as it came and hatred burns deep in your belly once more. So deep that it hurts and brings painful tears to your eyes, your nose burning so hard you can’t focus through your blurry vision.

You lean in closer, so close your nose is brushing just barely against his and pause for a second. A second of torture for him, a second of uncertainty, a second where his breath catches and his pupils dilate. 

Then you speak, voice trembling with overwhelming anger. 

“I have never,” you whisper, licking your lips. “Been treated with such disrespect.” You swallow hard, cheeks red with humiliation. 

You see a flash of guilt in his eyes but it’s quickly replaced by his usual look of cool professionalism- not even anger anymore. Not even that.

And he leans right back into you, a wave of heat passing over both of you. “Then learn to listen next time. It’s for your safety.” 

And just like that he’s drawing back, slamming the passenger door closed and climbing into the driver’s seat- leaving you cold and angry beyond reason.

A moment of tense silence passes before he releases a tiny sigh and breaks it by turning on the ignition. 

“Where are we going?”

*

BUCKY’S POV

I watch her laugh at something one of her friends says from a dark corner of the club and it’s hard not to stare for reasons other than my duty being just that...to look after her. 

The club was a luxurious one, with high ceilings, intricate designs and a VIP section where we were immediately escorted to.

Her Highness’s friends, a blonde guy and girl who had nodded at me in polite acknowledgment were already waiting for her there and I assumed that the few seconds when she had stopped her sulking and taken out her phone from her clutch were the seconds she was texting her friends to meet her there instead. 

I would never admit it, but I enjoyed watching her cave. It was like taming a wild horse, even if momentarily. 

Princess Y/n was a brat, plain and simple. Selfish, childish, and feisty as hell, I had never met anyone as completely and utterly vexing as her and to say these past few weeks had been hell would be an understatement. 

If I wasn’t so good at my job, I would’ve lost her already. She threw me for a loop any chance she got, cutting corners and doing everything she could to avoid my protection. 

As I stared at her with that pretty ass smile on her annoyingly beautiful face, it’s hard to imagine that that was the same person pushing every single one of my buttons just a few minutes before. 

She actually looked relaxed and...nice?

God, she infuriated me in ways I had no idea I could be infuriated, discovered buttons I didn’t know I had and pushed them to the point I had to throw her over my damn shoulder like a sack of flour.

I was a professional, for God’s sake. Had always been one with every single one of the cases I was assigned, so why was she the one to get under my skin?

...And why did I enjoy having her perfectly round ass so close to my face? Why did I keep thinking about the defiance in those stupidly big eyes over and over like I....craved it?

I wondered to myself as I watched her take down a shot by the bar. She glanced at me over her shoulder, still smiling, but it quickly melted away when our gazes clashed and my own mood soured instantly. 

I grimaced when she looked away as if I had burnt her with my eyes and quickly pulled my head out of the gutter. 

The fact that she was utterly gorgeous didn’t change how annoying she was. Not to mention I was here on a job. 

One I fully intended to complete, no matter how fucking difficult the client was.

*

The night moves on at a slow pace for me. The princess parties and I watch her like a hawk, making sure not to let her get too wild. 

So far I had pried off five guys who were trying their luck with her. From what I’d read on her file and the extensive research I’d done online, her face wasn’t really well known. 

She was always kept  secret and would be until she was crowned queen of Androvia- some weird old belief or something- so not many people knew what she looked like. 

Meaning, these guys probably didn’t know who they were trying to get all handsy with on the dance floor and would only assume was some rich daddy’s girl once my towering form appeared and nicely escorted them away. 

For the most part nicely, anyway. Some I had to get a little rougher with. 

I make sure to keep my eyes glued on her form, ignoring the way she moved her hips in that tiny black dress. It hugged her alluring curves like a glove and I swallowed hard as she grinded on her female friend, head thrown back and a free smile on her face. 

“She is...beautiful, isn’t she?” 

I calmly turn towards the voice as it hums out from beside me, turning to see the guy she came with. He takes a sip of his drink, smirking as his eyes remain on the way the princess waves her hands in the air to the beat of the song, sensually shaking her hips as if she was one with the sexy R&B song I had no idea the name of. 

I clear my throat, remaining stock still in my bodyguard pose. “Sir, I”m only here to protect her Highness. I really don’t-”

“Oh don’t even try to hide it. She’s easily the most beautiful woman in this whole club.”

He takes my silence as confirmation, it seems, because he proceeds to speak on as if I’ve agreed.

“But it’s not just her physical appearance is it? It’s something else. Something...inside,” he whispers. 

When I don’t respond, he continues bitterly. “I’m warning you; don’t fall for her. It’ll only bring you a world of pain, trust me.”

I catch the pain in his voice and stiffen. “I would never fall for one of my subjects, sir,” I assure him.

He laughs sourly. “Sure bud. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I insist, swallowing thickly as she laughs, beautiful smile wide and her laughter too melodious to be coming out of such a wretched little urchin. 

“Well,” he coughs suddenly, clapping me in the shoulder. “I think I need another drink. Want one?”

I eye his hand which he slowly pries off and shake my head with a slightly clenched jaw.

“I’m on the job, sir,” I remain calm and professional despite the fact that all I wanted to do was break that hand for putting stupid thoughts in my head. 

Because for a second there, as the bright club lights shun down on her, I could see what he talked about when he said there was something inside. In that smile, those eyes, that laugh...

But then she made eye contact with me and the feeling turned bitter so quick it’s a miracle I didn’t get whiplash. 

She was a brat. Nothing more.

*

YOUR POV

Sometime late into the night, you had found myself fairly buzzed. Not enough to fall on your face, but enough that walking- well, stumbling over to Agent Asshole only seemed more and more attractive an action.

He glances at you with those eyes and you can’t help the anger the bubbles within you. “Do you plan on staring me down the entire night?”

“It’s my job,” is all he says. 

You scowl fiercely at him. “I hate you,” you seethe.

He raises a dark brow but otherwise keeps that stoic expression on his face. “Do you want to leave, your Highness?”

His neutral tone and complete lack of reaction only angers you more and you shake your head furiously. “No, I don’t want to leave. I want you to leave though.”

He presses his lips firmly together. “I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not.”

“Huh?” He cocks his side slightly to the side and you lean closer to him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.

“I said; you’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you WOULD LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You feel your drunken emotions deep in your chest and without much effort, your voice quickly escalates.

He sighs heavily. “Okay, your highness, I think it’s time I take you back to the castle. C’mon,” he waves a hand toward the door.

You laugh at him coldly, shaking your head. “Who do you think you are, ordering me around? Know your place asshole, you are below me- never forget,” you growl snarkily, leaning right into his face.

You feel his breathing quicken against your cheeks the longer you defiantly smirk up at him, his calm eyes darkening.

You realized you enjoyed pushing him to the edge, that you craved this look on his face...

He smirks mockingly down at you, staring you down. “You can come willingly, your highness, or I can throw you over my shoulder like last time.” He leans straight into your ear, whispering hotly. “I’m sure you would rather not go through the embarrassment.”

You swallow thickly, your heart hammering against your chest and you’re not sure it’s from anger anymore. With disgust, you jerk away from him, glaring holes into his head.

“Let’s go.”

*

“You can go, Agent Obnoxious,” you mumble drunkenly, waving a dismissive hand at him as you stumble into your warm room, practically ripping off your heels.

You throw them somewhere in the corner of the large room, sighing with relief when you feel your bare feet touching the soft carpeted floor. 

Your knees shake slightly and buckle and you end up tripping forward.

You land on the ground with a soft grunt and for some reason, laughter bubbles deep in your chest.

“Your Highness!”

A few seconds later, you feel strong warm hands wrapping around your body to heave you up. You place your hands on his strong arms for support and look up at Agent Barnes.

The laughter immediately dies on your lips when you see a beautiful concerned frown of engraved deep in his face. It looks so sincere and his arms are so strong...

Before you know what you’re doing, a small mumble is leaving your lips. “You...” you cut yourself off abruptly when his eyes meet yours.

His hands now rest lightly on your waist, and you’re so close you can smell him. His scent is deep and rich and manly, so unlike the scent of those rich assholes you were forced to mingle with on a daily basis.

And his hands, are strong and resilient. The callouses on them tells you that he’s worked his entire life. Those hands, the ones holding you right now, They’ve probably handled a gun, they’ve probably saved so many lives...

You bite your lip, thinking about the way those hands felt on the skin of your arm and how heavenly it would feel if it traveled all over.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you crane up your neck to stare up at him.

He stares down at you, and even when your room is dark, the light of the moonlight that filters in from the huge window highlights the heavy tension in his gaze.

You’re both unmoving and you wonder if he enjoys touching you as much as you enjoy his touch.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering to your lips and eyes and then back.

You want to ask him what he’s thinking. You want to tell him to just do it -to just kiss you because you wouldn’t dare push him away- not in this state, not when the alcohol and his scent and eyes were clogging every single sense and reason you had, but you’re afraid to break the spell of whatever this was. 

So instead, you wait on abated breath, feeling like you’re both on the verge of something utterly earth-shattering, for him to move.

Finally, he speaks a few seconds later and it’s a quiet murmur. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

You ignore the sharp sting of his rejection when you were so clearly begging him to kiss you and step away from his touch as if he’s burnt you.

You turn around so he can’t see the hurt in your eyes. “You can go now Agent Brainless,” you say coldly over your shoulder, but you know it’s a lot softer than the other time.

Another second passes. “Princess..” he whispers.

You ignore his barely audible whisper and angrily begin undressing, tugging at the straps of your dress.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” He growls lowly as you begin to pull your dress down to your waist.

With a sarcastic smile, your turn towards him, your top half completely naked aside from your black lacy bra.

His gaze immediately falls on your half-naked chest, but aside from the small flicker in his eyes and gulp he takes, he gives no other indication of shock.

You raise a brow. “Are you going to watch me undress now too, Agent Barnes?” You ask mockingly.

His eyes find yours again and they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them. They send shivers through your whole body and you almost give into the urge to look away, but the anger and frustration within you don’t allow your gaze to waver.

“I’m not leaving until you’re safely in bed,” he husks, clearly trying his best to remain professional and cold as his icy stare bores into your eyes- purposefully looking away from your naked form.

You tilt your head up at him innocently, slowly sauntering closer to him. “Oh? Well in that case, do you mind helping me with the zipper of my dress? It’s stuck.”

You turn your back on him and a smirk blossoms in your face as you hear his breathing strain, your ass slightly brushing against his crotch area. 

He blows out a shaky exhale and it blows against your naked back, all hot and angry. 

When he makes no move to help you, you look at him over your shoulder. “Well?” 

His grave expression doesn’t budge. “I can’t do that,” he says lowly. 

But even as he resentfully spits this, he doesn’t budge and his eyes are still tracing over your body, their electric desire leaving goosebumps over wherever they ran over.

You roll your eyes at him. “Then turn around, you idiot.” 

He growls, fisting his hands and clenching his jaw tightly but doesn’t try to fight you on it and turns his broad back to you.

You’re intoxicated, so it’s probably because you’re not thinking straight, but as you quickly slip on a silk night gown and stare at his back, you can’t help the deep heavy sadness that sinks into your chest. 

Why hadn’t he kissed you just now? You could’ve sworn he wanted to and you sure as hell did...it was there, the moment, the split second when you were willing to risk it all, to overlook any and all boundaries, cross all imposing lines- but you lost it. 

Pushing your hair to the side, you convince yourself it was for the best. 

“I’m done,” you say softly, climbing into bed. 

Agent Barnes nods at you stiffly, turning on his heels to leave as you get under the covers. Blaming this on your intoxication, you suddenly find yourself exclaiming. 

“Wait!” 

He pauses right before his foot moves outside the doorframe and turns toward you, eyebrows raised. “You need something, Your Highness?”

You stare at him seriously, pressing your head against your pillow. “Don’t...leave, please,” you whisper softly, curling into a ball at the tenderness of your voice.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit quietly. 

He freezes, staring at you as if he’d never seen you before and you avert your gaze, afraid maybe you let on too much. 

“Sorry,” you quickly apologize, but that only flusters you more. “I-I mean not sorry, you asshole. Just- whatever. I’m in bed now, you can go.” 

Feeling embarrassed, you quickly flip over and turn your back to him.  

Seconds later, you hear the door click close and then nothing. A heavy sigh escapes you and you try to suppress the feeling of disappointment that envelops your whole body. 

You didn’t know if it was the drinks or the cold distant dinners you’d been having with your family...but you had never felt more alone. All the clubbing and trying to escape your destiny by trying to pave a life of your own couldn’t fill in that emptiness you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried.  

You didn’t want to feel like that anymore. Not tonight. 

So even if it was your bodyguard who you hated with everything in you, you needed someone just to be there. Even if it was just to sit in silence with.  

Suddenly, you hear a gentle swish noise and gasp lightly, flipping over. Agent Barnes has thrown his jacket over the chair beside your bed and is loosening his tie and he stares at you. His beautiful gaze sucks you in as you blink up at him in surprise. 

He shrugs. “I can’t just....leave you here alone.” 

Your chest clenches painfully and warmth travels all over your body like warm gooey honey. The feeling of having someone there for you when you need them most is almost overwhelmingly strong. 

“Thank you,” you whisper so quietly, you’re shocked he even hears it. 

He tilts his head at you, frowning with that handsome face of his. “For what? It’s my job.” 

There he goes detaching himself. With a gentle shrug, you nod and curl into a ball under your covers, trying to covet sleep. 

You try this for a few minutes and you’re tired, but you can’t help thinking about Agent Barnes sitting in a hard chair all night. After a while of tossing and turning, you sit up. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you breathe with irritation. 

“What? What happened?” he sits up instantly, and though you could tell he was on the verge of dozing off, his sharp senses are impressive as he reaches for the gun on his ankle frantically. 

You sigh, hating the way your cheeks grow hot and you look away timidly. “Just get into bed,” you say roughly. 

“What?”

You bite your lip, looking at him in the eyes. “I said; get into bed with me. That chair is uncomfortable.” 

He laughs lightly. “Princess, I was trained by the world’s best assassins. I was taught to sleep on a cold concrete ground if need be.” He gives the chair a firm pat. “This chair is a luxury for a guy like me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, wondering more about his past before lightly shaking your head. 

“I don’t care. I still feel bad that I made you sleep here on a chair. Just get in already, will you?” You growl at his stubbornness. “The bed is huge, there’ll be enough space for the both of us, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you add on, softly. 

After a few seconds of intense eye contact, he finally relents with a small sigh. “Fine.” 

Hesitantly, he cuffs his sleeves and perches himself on the edge of the bed- all stiff and tight. “Good?” He asks, glancing at you with raised brows.

You frown. “You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“You’re not actually planning to sleep like that are you?” You snort. 

“I told you-”

“That you were trained by dangerous assassins, yeah yeah. But you’re still a human and a ridiculous one at that,” you scoff before suddenly smirking.  “You’re not afraid of lil old me, are you? I’m tiny- I couldn’t possibly hurt you...too much,” you offer him a faux innocent smile, batting your lashes. 

He stares at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh trust me, I’ve met girls like you before. You definitely don’t bite.” 

You raise a brow amusedly. “Girls like me?”

His sexy smirk widens. “Yeah. You’re all bark but no bite,” he replies vaguely.

Feeling partially indignant and partially curious, you decide to probe him for answers. “Oh yeah?”

He can’t resist your subtle challenge and continue speaking. “You’re always in power, constantly being chased after because you’re beautiful and rich and you act like it’s what you want in a guy, but it isn’t, is it?”

Deeply intrigued by his generally accurate analysis, you can’t help but laugh. “Oh?”

“No.” He stares deeply into your eyes and the smile slips off your lips as he says his next words with the intensity of a thousand suns. “You bark out orders and you take on responsibilities like a boss, but what you really want is a man. Not a pushover boy that’ll listen to your every command and constantly try to please you, fall at your feet...But a man that’ll choke slam you on the bed, that’ll make you his, that’ll torture you with the deepest pits of hellish pleasure until he ruins every other man for you. You want to be controlled, brought over the edge so far you won’t ever be able to go there by yourself and then at the last moment get that taken away from you. You want to be used.” 

You openly gape at him but he ignores you and slightly scoots closer, still at a safe distance, but close enough where you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“Sleep, Princess,” he whispers. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

At first, you’re too shocked to react. Your heart is positively hammering against your ribcage and your cheeks are uncharacteristically red. You were flushed. How had he managed to...’you know what?’ You think. ‘No.’ 

You breathe in deeply. ‘ I’m not going to think about it anymore.’

Because doing so would mean letting him win. And also, never mind the fact that he’s in your bed right now...

Decidedly, you squeeze your eyes shut, begging sleep to come amidst all your stupid, surely drunken thoughts about your stupid bodyguard and kissing him, or simply straddling him right now...

Despite how much you disliked him, you felt safe and protected, like you could let your guard down. And yet...not enough. 

Soon, lulled by the steady beating of his heart and the warmth of his body, you curl into a ball and slowly let your heavy lids close, relaxing completely.

“Oh, and Agent Brainless?” you murmur, on the very verge of sleep. 

“Yes, princess?” He looks at you. 

You manage to send him one last cold smirk before answering.  

“Don’t misinterpret this, right now. I’m merely asking you to do your job.” 

And then darkness takes over.

Before fully giving into the softness of the darkness of slumber, though, you think you hear him laugh softly and say something like “wouldn’t dream of it, brat.” 

****

They’re honestly growing on me. Should I continue?

ALSO YALL SEE TFATWS????  SEBASTIAN LOOKS SO DARN GOOD PLEASEEEEEE

A special thanks to:

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@sammykb1994

@mogaruke

@mo-onstarrs

@loveofmychips @juliesland​

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes masterlist #james bucky barnes #marvel #avengers #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #Bodyguard!Bucky #bodyguard!bucky x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america

[thebigbadbatswife]

One Single Thread Of Gold Tied Me To You

Summary - Everyone is tied to their soulmate with a red thread tied to their wrist. All except Y/N’s, who’s thread is gold. Tired of waiting for her soulmate to come and find her, she decides to go and find them. It doesn’t go quite how she expected it to.

Warnings - A little angst

[A/N] - This is a soulmate au where you and your soulmate are attached by an unbreakable red thread (or, in this case, gold), tied to your wrist. This was inspired by the song 'Invisible String' by Taylor Swift.

Word Count - 4k

As the early morning sun slowly filtered into your room, through your blinds, you carefully examined the thread attached to your wrist. Everyone had one; it was your link to your soulmate. Yours was different to everyone else though. While everyone had red, yours was gold. As you turned your wrist, it caught the sunlight and glistened a little.

Everyone you knew had always been fascinated by it. As was nearly every stranger you met. Why was it gold? What exactly made you and your soulmate so different to everyone else’s? Questions you had often asked yourself as well. Why were you two so different?

Your family had a theory that whoever it was, they were rich. Very rich. That was surely the reason it was gold. Nothing else made sense to them. Meanwhile your friends were completely convinced that your soulmate was some kind of God.

“Come on, Y/N! It’s the only thing that makes sense!” Tracey said before taking another sip of her third glass of wine. Her usually bright emerald eyes were glazed over from all of the alcohol. “Why else would it be gold?”

“You gotta admit, Tracey might be drunk right now, but she has a good point!” Skylar joined in. She took her brown eyes off the blonde and looked over at you before continuing. “Oh! What if your soulmate is like Wonder Woman or Superman or something! How cool would that be?”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your own glass of wine. “Stop it. You’re both being ridiculous,” you had told them because they really were being ridiculous. There was no way your soulmate was a member of the Justice League, let alone an Amazonian Princess or the Man of Steel.

You were, of course, curious of your soulmate yourself. Who wouldn’t be curious of the person they’re destined to end up with? But you didn’t think up the crazy theories your friends and family liked to come up with. Instead you wondered things like, what kind of hobbies do they have? What’s their favourite colour? What type of music do they listen to? Were they a cat person or a dog person? And other things like that.

Another thing about the thread that tied you to your soulmate was that, while everyone could see the thread around your wrist, only you and soulmate could see where it led. While you had always wanted to follow it, you had decided that it would be better to focus on having a decent job and place to live first.

During that time a small part of you had hoped that maybe your soulmate would come looking for you, but since they clearly weren’t, maybe you should? After all, you had a well paying job and a great apartment, so why not? Every job was legally required to allow people time off to go search, so that wouldn’t be an issue. It was paid time off as well so you didn’t have to worry about money. You also had a car so you wouldn’t have to spend a shit ton of money on travel. At least, you hoped you wouldn’t. In truth, for all you knew, your soulmate could be in a completely different country. Now that would certainly complicate things.

Shaking that thought away (because there was no way fate could be that cruel), you got out of bed and set about putting the wheels in motion that would allow you to start following your thread

‘ Welcome to Gotham City! ’ the sign read as you drove past it. When you had told those close to you, your plan, they had been super supportive. Now, if they knew where your thread had lead you, you doubted they’d be as supportive. Hell, even you were rethinking things now. Out of all the cities for your soulmate to be in, it just had to be this one.

How did you know it was this city that they resided in and it wasn’t just another stop along the way? It was hard to explain, but you had a feeling deep within your gut, almost like a sixth sense that just yelled “Yep! This is the place!”.

You felt extremely uneasy as you drove through the city. It was night-time as well which did absolutely nothing to help. Honestly, of all the times to arrive in Gotham, night-time was definitely the worst. Well, there was nothing you could do about that now, you just had to keep on going, so you did.

The golden thread snaked through the gothic city and went from the “posh” part of the city all the way to the worst part of the city. The buildings were run down and most of the windows were boarded up. Each turn you took there were shiftier and shiftier characters on every corner. You started to get the feeling that you really shouldn’t be here. Plus you were starting to wonder if you really wanted to know who your soulmate was if they were hanging out in neighbourhoods like this.

You brought your car to a stop in front of a particularly dark and sinister looking alleyway. A particularly dark and sinister looking alleyway that your golden thread lead straight into. Coming to this part of this city was already a bad idea. Continuing to follow that thread to what had to be your certain doom was even worse. Yet, at this point in your mission, you were pretty much committed.

You couldn’t help out a quiet and very nervous laugh as you climbed out of your car. ‘ This is fucking insane ,’ you thought as you stepped out of your car. Before shutting and locking it (though you doubt that would do much to protect it in this area), you grabbed your pepper spray. ‘ I really hope your worth all this .’

As you followed the thread down the alleyway, you heard a sudden loud bang. A gunshot. You stopped in your tracks and you could feel your heart pick up its pace. Your thread lead in the direction the shot had come from. ‘ I really hope you weren’t involved with that .’ Taking a deep breath, you continued down the alleyway.

The alleyway lead out onto another street. There was a small crunching sound as you stepped out onto the street. Taking a step back, you looked to the ground to see what you had just stepped on. The ground was littered with small shards of glass. Looking up, you figured the shards of glass were from the bulbs from the streetlamps. Something had broken them. It didn’t take you long to figure out what, or rather who ,was responsible.

Further down the street, taking on group of ten men, was none other than Gotham’s Caped Crusader. The Batman.

You quickly ducked back into the alley you had just left. You then carefully peered around the wall, so you could watch the fight. You were well aware of the fact that your thread was leading straight toward the fight. Which meant that your soulmate was involved.

You watched the fight intensely, both intrigued and terrified to figured which one of the men was on the end of your thread. There was a voice in the back of your head praying hardcore that it was the hero in the centre of the fight.

Batman was a blur of black and dark grey as he rapidly made his way through the group of men. With a variety of different punches, kicks and gadgets, he made short work of them. During his combat flow, you followed your thread with your eyes and a small gasp left you as you realised who the other end was attached to.

Holy fuck. You’re friends had, kind of, been right. While your soulmate wasn’t Wonder Woman or Superman, like they had suggested, he was apart of the Justice League’s ‘Big Three’. Your soulmate was Batman . At least now you knew why he hadn’t come looking for you. He’d been busy saving the world.

Now you had to figure out how to approach him before he ended up disappearing into the night.

Exiting your cover, you took your thread between your finger and thumb and gently tugged on it a couple of times.

Batman looked at his end of the thread curiously as your tugs had gotten his attention. Then his head drifted upwards, following where it lead till his eyes settled on you.

If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, his eyes never leaving you. Part of you wanted to cower away from the intense stare, but you willed yourself not to. He was your soulmate, and you weren’t a criminal,  you had no reason to be afraid.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, finally ending the silence between you. His voice was deep and almost robotic sounding. Probably some sort of voice modulator to help hide his identity, you figured.

“In Gotham? Yeah, this place really sucks,” you replied, thinking about all the things you had heard about this city, “but I came here to find my soulmate; to find you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice was sharp and serious as he spoke. He also sounded irritated at your sudden appearance, which caused you to frown. That couldn’t be right… could it?

“What?” You hated how meek and pathetic your voice sounded, but you couldn’t help it. Wasn’t this supposed to be a happy moment? One of the happiest in your life in fact. Instead you felt like you were being scolded rather than meeting the person who was supposed to be your other half.

“I didn’t want to meet you. Now I suggest you go home. It’s not safe here.”

What? You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There was pressure behind your eyes and your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath as you took a step backwards away from him. It quickly sunk in that the man you’d been destined to be with, the man you had thought about since you were old enough to understand the concept of a soulmate, wanted nothing to do with you.

“I-I’m sorry I disturbed you.” Your voice broke as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. You weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. You then turned around and ran back toward where you had left your car.

As fast as you could, you started your car up and made your way to a safer part of the city. It didn’t take you long to find a somewhat empty parking lot to park in. Once the engine was off, you screamed and aggressively slammed against the wheel as you let the tears freely fall.

You felt like a complete and utter fucking idiot. Of course he didn’t want you. You’d probably just get in the way of him saving the world or something like that. Besides, what was that article you had seen a few months ago? Something about Catwoman and a relationship between the two? While it happened very rarely, some people in the world had been known to reject their soulmate because they had found someone they deemed better. Is that what had happened? Whatever the reason, you could feel your heart breaking.

You had used to think that, out of all the members of the Justice League, Batman had been one of the cooler members. Now all you could think was that he was a massive jerk.

Maybe it was your own fault for romanticising the whole thing and thinking that your meeting would be something out of a fairytale. Apparently fate was far crueller than you could have ever thought it to be.

Bruce watched as she ran away from him, back down the alleyway she had come from. A small voice in the back of his head told him to go after her. To grab her, hold her close and apologise, tell her that he hadn’t meant it. He ignored it and headed off in the opposite direction, back to where he had left the batmobile.

Over his comms, he heard a barely audible sigh and he could easily picture his butler and lifelong friend shaking his head in disappointment. No doubt he was going to get an earful once he got back to the batcave. Well it certainly wasn’t the first time.

As the batmobile pulled up in the batcave, he could see Alfred waiting for him. ‘ Here we go ,’ he thought as he got out of his car and removed his cowl.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he stated as he walked past him and toward the batcomputer. He set his cowl down on the desk. Even as the words left his mouth he knew he had wasted his breath. If there was one thing that Alfred had done consistently since Bruce had started down this path, it was letting him know when he disagreed with something he did.

“Was that really necessary Master Bruce? She’s come all of this way…” Alfred started, but ended up trailing off. There was a small moment of silence before he continued. “You know, I remember a small boy who couldn’t wait to go out there and find…” Before he could finish what he was saying, Bruce promptly cut him off.  

“What would you have me do, Alfred?!” His voice echoed off of the cave’s walls and disturbed some of the bats still hanging on the ceiling. Bruce gestured toward his equipment and the display cases that held some rather badly damaged batsuits. All of them testaments to injuries that had come far too close to killing him. “Would you really have me force this life on to her? The dangers, the no guarantee I’ll come home…” He took a deep breath and rested both his hands on the surface of his desk. “She deserves so much better.” His voice was quiet, but still easily heard in the, almost, silent cave.

“With all due respect, sir, I believe she should be allowed to make that decision, not you,” Alfred replied before leaving the batcave, not giving Bruce a chance to respond.

He looked in the direction of the stairs that lead up into the manor. The direction that Alfred had headed in. Was he right? Should he be leaving it up to her to decide what she wanted? But with all the dangers he faced nightly… No, it was better for him to stay far away from her.

Over the following week Bruce found himself distracted. It didn’t matter where he was, what he was doing, he couldn’t focus. And considering what he did once night fell over Gotham, to say being unfocused really wasn’t good was a complete understatement of the situation. He had been having far too many close calls recently.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. The way she had looked at him as he told her he didn’t want to meet her, that she should leave. Alfred’s words echoed in his mind and he found himself questioning the decisions he had made that night. Something that Bruce rarely, if ever, did. Everything he did was meticulously planned and there was never any doubt when he made a decision. Was this what happened once you met your soulmate and rejected them?

Bruce was sure that the rest of the Justice League had taken notice. With how off beat and slow to react to certain things, it would be hard not to. Of course, if they had, none of them had mentioned it to him. Apparently they knew better. For the time being, at least. He was sure it wouldn’t be long before they did try to pry into his personal life.

Which lead him here. On the roof of the building opposite of Y/N’s apartment building. He hadn’t needed to do any extensive research to find her, or learn her name, because he had been in this exact spot a couple of years ago.

Two years ago Bruce’s own curiosity had gotten the better of him. He blamed Clark and his soulmate, a reporter by the name of Lois Lane, for it. He had seen them one too many times in the Watchtower together and had found himself wondering who exactly his soulmate was and what they was like. As a result, he had gone looking for them. Not because he wished to finally meet them, but so he could make sure his soulmate was safe and happy. And she was, so he had left. Only ever checking up on her every now and then to make sure she had stayed that way.

He looked down at the golden thread that came out of his gauntlet and lead down toward the apartment he’d been watching. Both as Bruce Wayne and Batman he had made sure to keep it well hidden. With its unique colouring he couldn’t allow anyone to see it. It would be all too easy for his enemies to find her if they did see it.

He knew that by being here he was easily undoing everything he had done to keep her safe, but, then again, had she not done exactly that when she had tracked him down in Gotham? Besides, and while he would never say it out loud, Alfred had been right. It should be up to Y/N to decide whenever or not she wanted all the baggage that came with him being in her life. Baggage that had driven more than one person from his life…

He shook that thought from his head and got up from his crouched position on the roof. Bruce then leapt from the roof and allowed himself to fall for a couple of seconds before opening up his cape and let it catch the wind that was rushing past him. He silently glided over to her apartment’s balcony.

Y/N was in her apartment alone. She was sat on her sofa, the light from the tv was the only thing illuminating the room.

Bruce was unsure of how exactly to go about this. Back in Gotham he had originally thought of approaching her as Bruce Wayne, but quickly discarded it. Bruce Wayne showing up at an out of the way apartment building was sure to garner attention. As would Batman using the front door, so the balcony had seemed to be the best option. But now that he was here, he wasn’t entirely sure it was.

Should he just knock? That seemed like the best way to go about this. It was going to scare the everloving daylights out of her, but he could deal with that.

He gently rapped the glass of the balcony door with his knuckles. As he had expected, Y/N leapt up from her seat. A bowl and the contents of the bowl followed her and scattered across her carpeted floor. She spun around and when she saw him, the look of shock on her face quickly turned to anger. Her eyes narrowed and he swore that glare would be enough to make even the toughest of Gotham’s thugs would cower at its intensity. Maybe she would deal with his life better than he thought.

After a minute of glaring at him, she turned around and walked toward the lightswitch. At the same time, she gestured for him to enter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded as soon as he had entered the apartment and shut the door behind him. The rage in her voice was evident and Bruce was sure he could cut the tension in the room with a batarang.

“I came to apologise,” he said, his voice gentle despite how distorted his modulator made it sound. Y/N scoffed immediately. He didn’t blame her. If he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t believe him either. After all ‘Batman’ wasn’t exactly known for making apologies.

“Yeah right.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m being truthful. I… I shouldn’t have said what I said. It wasn’t right.”

“Then why did you say it?” A fair question and one he had an answer to. Before he even said it, Bruce was aware how cliché it sounded.

“I wanted to keep you safe. This life isn’t for everyone.”

“So without even meeting me, you decided that it wasn’t for me.” She shook her head. “That’s not your decision to make!” she yelled at him.

“I know. It’s been pointed out to me before.” In fact that night in the cave wasn’t the first time Alfred had told him that. “But that’s why I’m here now. To give you all the information you need to make that decision.”

You listened intently as Batman explained the dangers of the life he was leading. The dangers that effected the people in his life in one way or another. He also made it a point to reiterate the fact that when he left at night or was summoned by the Justice League there was no guarantee he would return. You asked the occasional question, but for the most part you just listened to him to talk and let his words sink in.

You got it. You understood the very clear concerns that Batman had about this whole thing, they concerned you as well, but you weren’t about to let it deter you. You wanted to know your soulmate. Even if it ended horribly, like he was saying it would, you felt it in your core that you would regret not knowing him, especially if the worst truly did happen. And you told him so.

“Even if you’re not wearing a mask, this life is dangerous. Anything can happen.”

“Anything could happen to me when I leave my apartment each day.”

The superhero life wasn’t special in that regard. As you spoke, your voice was a lot calmer than it had been earlier. In fact, as he had spoke and explained you had found your anger slowly fading. You still wanted to slap the jerk superhero before you, but that was a considerable downgrade from your overwhelming need to deck him when you first saw him standing on your balcony.

“It won’t be easy.”

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge before.”  

You admired his commitment to deter you, but it wasn’t going to work. You were too stubborn to let it. Something you were positive he was learning very quickly.

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you that this is a bad idea, is there?”  

“Nope.” You made sure to pop the ‘p’.

Batman sighed deeply. You watched as he looked away from you and toward the golden thread that linked the two of you together. You could almost hear the gears in his brain turning as he thought. Then he was looking back up at you.

“In that case then.”

You watched as Batman brought his hands up to his cowl. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help the small gasp that left you as he removed the cowl and revealed his identity to you. Bruce Wayne. While you didn’t live in Gotham City, you were well aware of Gotham’s favoured son. You would’ve had to have lived underneath a rock to not know who he was.

And apparently your family had been right on the money, literally. Not that you cared about the money, you weren’t superficial like that. Personality was far more important than the material items someone may or may not have. In your eyes, at least.

You both stood in silence, his blue eyes studying you, probably trying to gauge how you were going to react. To be truthful, you weren’t entirely sure how to react. Except maybe…

“Well, it’s… it’s nice to meet you Bruce Wayne. I guess this is the part where we forget about what happened and start over?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Yeah, sure, this was probably going to end horribly, but you were looking forward to the adventure that lie ahead.

#bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne imagines #batman imagines #soulmate au #my writing

[writtenmemxries]

“If I could read your mind, love, what a tale your thoughts could tell.”

I was inspired by this post by @gum-believable to write this fic. I tagged all the people that asked to be tagged under that post, I hope you don’t mind and I hope you like this! :)

[1.9k words]

Sam had learned early on that many hunts rarely go as one would hope, unfortunately. He used to wait anxiously for his father and brother to come home, sitting on an uncomfortable bed in a random motel, nearly thirty years before, scared that things could go bad.

As time went by, he understood firsthand that not everything always goes as planned. Murphy’s law teaches us that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Even on a trivial hunt like that.

A case to solve, a witch to stop before it was too late, people to save. Nothing they hadn’t faced before, nothing they weren’t able to overcome with their skills and experience. It was such a mundane hunt that even a pair of young hunters like Claire and Kaia could have handled it well, or so Sam and Dean believed.

Alas, hunting is unpredictable. Who would have thought that the witch had a twin sister? Who would have imagined that the aforementioned sister was so poorly endowed with magical powers that the spell cast against Dean would have side effects even after her death?

Still, that was exactly what happened.

When a purple cloud enveloped Dean’s head, dulling his senses and making him lose his balance, Sam shot the young woman in the head and she fell to the ground with a thud.

Dean, still a bit pale, got up trembling. Despite everything, he seemed to be fine. No trace of purple smoke, no strange dust, no visible wounds. They were both fine.

Sam let out a relieved sigh. That was a close one, he thought.

“Amen to that, little brother,” Dean said with a smirk.

Sam looked at him confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

Dean frowned. “What do you mean, you just talked!”

“Dean, I didn’t speak.”

Dean thought about it for a moment, then shrugged carelessly. “I must have imagined it. I still feel a little dizzy from the spell.”

Sam nodded. “Can you drive?”

“Of course I can, who do you think I am? You won't put your filthy hands on Baby,” Dean exclaimed offended, and quickly went down the stairs of the apartment.

Sam looked around cautiously one last time before following his brother to the car.

As they traveled through the city towards the highway, Sam stared out of the window thoughtfully, while Dean cheerfully drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

That Starbucks is new, Sam thought casually, noticing a new sign of the popular coffee shop.

“Wow Samantha, you know these towns really well, don’t you?" Dean commented wryly.

Sam turned to him frowning. “What?”

“I said you know-”

“I heard what you said,” Sam interrupted him. “But why did you say that?”

Dean gave him a confused look before focusing back on the road. “Uh, no offense Sam, but honestly, who cares about Starbucks.”

Sam was starting to fret. “How do you know I was thinking about Starbucks?”

“You okay Sam?” Dean asked concerned. “Did those sons of bitches do anything to you?”

“I didn't say anything, Dean,” Sam said for the second time that day. “I just thought about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't speak. And I didn't do it before, either! I didn't say anything about Starbucks, Dean. Not out loud at least.”

“So what, I can read minds now?”

Sam sighed. “I don't know, maybe.”

Dean smiled in amusement. “Awesome.”

“Dean, there must be something else. Something bad. It must be that spell's fault. I'm gonna call Cas.”

But Dean had stopped listening to him. He was smiling to himself, proud of his new supernatural power. After all, how dangerous could it be?

When they got to the bunker, Castiel was already there. Sam hadn't explained anything to him on the phone, except that Dean had been hit by an unknown spell and they needed the angel's help.

As soon as they entered the room, Castiel ran to meet them, worried.

“Sam, Dean. What happened?”

“Dean thinks he has superpowers,” Sam said without many pleasantries, as Dean greeted Castiel with a pat on the shoulder.

“I told you Sam, I'm like Professor X,” Dean said with a grin.

Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes.

Why did I have to fall in love with this idiot?

Dean nearly tripped over his own feet. Castiel grabbed his arm, steadying him, but Dean immediately drew back, as if his touch had burned him.

“What?!” he nearly shouted, looking at him with wide eyes.

Castiel looked at him confused and preoccupied. “Dean, I didn't say anything,” he said calmly, as if he were explaining a complex concept to a child.

“Cas, the thing is-” Sam tried to explain, but Dean shut him up.

“It's- it's not important. Do you know what matters now? Dinner. I still have to cook, so, Cas, you're coming with me to the kitchen,” he said quickly. His ears were burning and he knew he was blushing.

“Dean-”

“No tofu-eating man allowed in my kitchen, capiche?” he interrupted his brother again, pointing his finger at him.

Then, without saying anything else, he grabbed Castiel by the wrist and they disappeared together down the corridor, leaving Sam astonished in front of the bunker entrance.

In the kitchen, Dean let go of Castiel's wrist, clearing his throat embarrassed. Castiel continued to look at him curiously.

I miss the feeling of his fingers on my skin. I love it when he touches me like that.

Dean choked on his saliva and started coughing under Castiel's concerned gaze.

“Dean, what happened, do I have to heal you?” he asked apprehensive.

Dean shook his head no, catching his breath. “No man, I'm fine. It's just... dinner, alright? We have to hurry up,” he said hastily, turning his back to the angel to avoid him noticing his obvious blush.

“Dean, Sam said a witch cast a spell on you...”

“Sam hit his head and has no idea what he's saying,” Dean lied.

Castiel frowned. “Is he okay? Maybe I should check if he needs my assistance,” he said, already heading down the hall.

“Cas, no!” Dean exclaimed.

Castiel winced, looking at him in shock.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. “He's fine, I've already checked on him. He just needs to rest,” he said looking around, unable to fix his gaze on Castiel. “For now, I need you to stay here with me, okay?” he continued, grabbing a pan to cook some burgers.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Why?”

“Because-” Dean sighed, “I want you here.”

Castiel's gaze softened.

I love being with you Dean. Spending time with you. Talking to you, or even being silent. I always want to be around you.

Dean felt himself blush again. “Good,” he murmured.

Castiel sat down at the table, knowing he couldn't be of much help, and he simply watched Dean cook. There was silence between them, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The only sounds were those that Dean made moving around the kitchen, slicing tomatoes, washing salad, preparing dinner.

How can I be so lucky?

Dean turned to Castiel, winking in his direction.

You're amazing. And it's incredible that I get to sit here, with you, watching you. Admiring you as one would admire a work of art or a natural phenomenon. Seeing you here, in such a normal and domestic environment, fills my heart with joy. I want to see you like this forever.

“So, Cas,” Dean said perhaps a little too loud, trying to distract himself from those words that were ringing in his head, hitting him right in the chest, unleashing lightning and storms inside his brain. “What's on your mind?”

Castiel eyed him enigmatically. “It's nice to see you cooking happily,” he said simply, looking around the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah, that's good, I guess,” Dean replied, scratching his head in embarrassment.

“What are you thinking about, instead, Dean?”

Dean looked into his eyes, which stared back at him with an expression so fond that he felt his heart ache.

I love you, he thought, and for the first time it didn't scare him. He didn't feel horrified, he hadn't been ashamed of his feelings for a long time. But he wasn't afraid either, not anymore.

I love you, he thought again. Cas, I love you. Cas cas cas cas-

“Dean.”

Castiel's cheeks were tinged with red, his lips were slightly parted, his pupils dilated. Dean's first thought was that he wanted to see him like that every day.

“Dean, why are you praying to me?” Castiel asked in a whisper.

“I'm not,” Dean said quietly, dumbfounded, letting his eyes wander over Castiel's features, his flustered face.

“Yes, you- you have-”

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Castiel closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

Dean clung to the kitchen counter, already regretting having said it out loud. What if he wasn't actually hearing Cas' thoughts? What if he was just hallucinating?

“Say something Cas.”

Castiel shook his head slowly.

I don't deserve your love. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you a family, someone who can get old with you, someone who has never betrayed or hurt you, I don't-

“Cas. I- I can hear your thoughts. The witch's spell, I think... I don't even know man, I don't know what happened, but I can hear what you think as if you were talking,” Dean whispered guiltily.

Castiel jerked his head up. His eyes were full of tears.

“Dean, why haven't you told me-”

“I didn't want to. I'm sorry, okay, but you were saying all those nice things about me, things I don't deserve, and I didn't expect it. I just wanted... I don't know, man," Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “But I love you,” he continued, moving closer to Castiel. “You’re family, Cas. You, Sam, Jack... I want to grow old with you, until I die of liver cirrhosis or some other bullshit. I don't want anyone else. It's you, Cas. You're the one for me.”

He had crouched down in front of Castiel, who was still sitting at the table. Tears ran down the angel's cheeks, which Dean promptly collected with his thumbs, gently caressing his face. Castiel huffed out a laugh, clinging to Dean's arms, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

He stood up, Dean right after him. And in an instant, their lips met and started moving together, in tune, as their hands explored the other's neck, jaw, hair, eagerly and sweetly at the same time.

They parted, out of breath, and Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's, losing himself in his green eyes.

“Should we thank her?” he asked with a smile, breathing in Dean’s scent.

“Who?” Dean said, stroking his hair absentmindedly.

“The witch.”

“Oh,” Dean chuckled. “Sam killed her.”

“Of course he did,” Castiel laughed.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, and pulled him close to kiss him again.

Castiel smiled against his lips, and in that moment Dean was certain. He wanted this with him more than anything.

Smiling back, he wished Castiel would never stop grinning like that.

And if Castiel thought the same, Dean was too engrossed in the kiss to hear it.

· tags under the cut, ask to be added or removed ·

@rambleoncas @chaoticdean @winchester-novak @randomblabbling @seffersonjtarship @professorerudite @queen-rowenas @sana-drinks-isklar @tasersloth @beforejuko @superduckbatrebel 

@nguyenxtrang @destiel-bitches @multi-fandom-dark-lord @kindahotommo @cartoons-tothemoon @piratefairy-moonlight @legless-fish-on-rollerskates @hemdall

#coming back with a new piece of writing after more than a month of total eclipse on my part #i've been busy and i couldn't find the time nor the strength to write anything because haha the finale wrecked me completely haha #but i think i'm back now?? so yeah i hope you like this #it was fun to write and a lovely prompt so thank you #i hope nobody minds that i tried to give my contribute and tagged a bunch of people who might be interested #also it's past midnight here so if there are mistakes please forgive me #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel oneshot #destiel ficlet #deancas fic #deancas fanfic #deancas oneshot #deancas ficlet #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #case fic #spn fic #supernatural #sometimes I write #this isn't my best work but uhmmm someone might like it so i'm gonna post it anyways

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

pause, m | myg | 2

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

warnings: rated M (18+) - please be warned this story has a physically and verbally abusive relationship; language; emotional manipulation; gender stereotyping; non-idol!AU; music producer!Yoongi x dancing fanatic!reader

rated M because I know how sensitive a topic domestic abuse is.

The music reader listens to is inspired by Frederic, specifically their songs ‘oodloop’, ‘OWARASE NIGHT’, and ‘Kanashii Ureshii’ and you can look up the MVs on YT. They have subs, yes the lyrics inspired certain scenes, no I have no idea what is going on, and I don’t know why they’re dancing like that lol

–

1.

-

She slapped him across the face.

You froze.

The cassette smashed.

“I hate you, Min Yoongi!”

She shouted it so loud that you heard it over your music. Your finger instinctively went to your earbud and tapped it, pausing the sound. You couldn’t believe your eyes. What had this guy done? What had this guy done to be yelled at like that the second he stepped off the night train to stand in front of his girlfriend?

“Useless piece of trash, always fucking late!”

Slapping him over and over, so loud because the train station was completely empty except for you and these two, yelling obscenities and the guy was just standing there, taking it, saying, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry for what? Why did she keep hitting him? Why? Stop it. Stop hitting him.

“Such a fucking waste of life, I can’t believe I have to be your girlfriend!”

Stop it.

“No one will ever fucking love you, you shithead, so I’m stuck with your stupid self!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Mumbles. Fear.

Stop it!

“You think anyone will ever do anything for you the way I do? I’m all you have!”

Within two seconds, you crossed the space between you and them.

You smacked her hand away from him.

Pause.

You hesitated to press play. Standing in front of this random guy you didn’t even know, fury in your chest so strong that you forgot you were a stranger, glaring at this scowling, rage-filled woman with vehement disdain. You had no idea what the fuck was going on, you had no idea why he was being slapped so much, you had no idea why this woman was so angry and maybe there were very good reasons for it all, but somehow.

Somehow you didn’t think so.

Play.

“Stop it. He said he was sorry,” you barked, narrowing your eyes.

Her pretty face twisted with rage. “Who the fuck is this bitch, Yoongi? A whore you picked up?”

“I… I don’t know her…” the man behind you rasped, trying to move around you, but you kept yourself between the two, shouldering your backpack.

“I don’t know him. I just know you shouldn’t be hitting someone like that.”

The woman snapped at you, rising to her full height, challenging you. “This isn’t any of your fucking business. This is between me and him and doesn’t concern outsiders. Tell her, Yoongi.”

But you didn’t let Yoongi tell you, cutting him off as he tried to speak.

“This isn’t my business, but I’ve seen enough examples to be able to spot domestic violence when I see it,” you growled.

The woman scoffed, flipping her hair. “Domestic violence,” she snorted. “He’s a man. It’s not like I hit him that hard. I’m a woman.”

You curled your hands into fists.

“You stupid bully.”

The woman looked taken aback. “What?”

“I said, you’re a stupid fucking bully,” you snarled, taking a step forward and forcing her to take one back. “You think this is nothing, until you have children and your children have to watch this shit over and over, every night, thinking it’s right, thinking it’s the way it should be, but you’re fucking wrong, because this is not a relationship, this is not love, this is fucking bullying and you are a stupid, dumb bully who can’t admit you have an inferiority complex and your kids will spend years in fucking therapy wondering why they don’t understand how to make relationships with other human beings because their mom was a terrible fucking example, so do me a fucking favor and get the fuck out of here and leave this guy alone, because you are an absolute sewage of a human being.”

She gawked at you, slack-jawed, probably never been talked to in such a forceful manner before, but you didn’t care, because you didn’t spend years in therapy to watch this shit happen right in front of your face.

Never in your entire life had you ever been so angry at a stranger before.

The woman seemed to gather her bearings and spat at the floor, staining the concrete with her spit. You raised your eyebrows, unintimated. She stamped her foot at your lack of reaction, pointing accusingly at Yoongi behind you.

“Don’t you ever think about coming back home. I’m burning all your shit.”

She turned her heel and stomped away.

You almost expected Yoongi to run after her, but he didn’t. He just stood behind you and breathed laboriously. You suddenly realized that you might have done something mildly insane. She said she was going to burn all his shit.

“Hmph,” you heard the mumble behind you. “All I had was clothes anyway.”

You turned around. He wasn’t looking at you. His black hair was all over his face, and his face mask was half-pulled down, revealing his red cheeks. You looked away quickly, taking a step back.

“Are you… okay?” you asked quietly.

You saw his eyes shift around. He didn’t actually respond. Just shrugged.

You bit your lip.

Silence.

“There… are no more trains,” the Yoongi guy whispered.

“Y… Yeah.”

Silence.

The lights above you were harsh, casting large shadows all over the concrete. Nothing but the sounds of the city and the darkness above, the moon witnessing it all.

He turned away from you, walking over towards the benches. Walking away. The crumpled paper of a man, shrinking as he took one step, then another, farther and farther away from you, and you opened your mouth to shout after that black back, extending your hand in the air.

“H-Hey!”

Pause.

He turned his head around to look at you with broken and lonely eyes.

“If you want… I have a couch and some blankets.” You swallowed, knowing how crazy it was. “Because… You shouldn’t go back. I…” Don’t want you to end up like my dad. “Even if it’s one night.”

I want to break this cycle.

“Just one.” You lowered your hand, holding up one finger. “One.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

Only turned around wordlessly and walked back to you, stopping in front of you. Saying nothing.

He didn’t say anything the entire walk.

Didn’t say anything as you opened the door and gestured him inside. Showed him the couch, got him the blankets. Asked him if he wanted anything else. He shook his head instead of talking. You ran to your room and got him a spare pillow. Held it out to him. He took it silently. Ran off again and got a new toothbrush from your stash of toothbrushes. An unopened travel toothpaste. Asked him if he wanted anything to eat. A glass of water. He shook his head.

Showed him the bathroom. A shower?

Shake, shake.

Okay.

You told him if he was cold to let you know. You would find another blanket.

Yoongi said nothing.

You nodded and turned away, letting him be. It was hard to look at him. You didn’t want him to think you pitied him or anything. But he reminded you too much of your dad if you stared at him too long. You had gotten him everything you could think of and let him know that if he needed anything to tell you.

You went to your bedroom and let out a big sigh.

No dance party tonight.

You went to your computer and opened Spotify. Put your headphones on and listened to the music, letting it carry you away. Before you knew it, one song flowed into another. You slowly began to bounce your head to the music, the cheerful, quirky beats making you smile, your hands moving on their own, lip-syncing the lyrics.

A happy tune with sad lyrics, but it made you smile at the same.

You failed to notice Yoongi appear at your door, holding his phone. He needed a charger. Did you have one? And then he saw the back of your head, bouncing along, headphones on.

He retreated back to your living room, clutching his phone. Decided to go to sleep instead.

Hours later, you finally decided to sleep, placing your headphones down. Was Yoongi sleeping? You padded over to the dark living room, seeing a bundled form on your couch. His coat was over the blanket. His head was under the blanket. Was he cold? You went back to your room and collected a pink knit one. Walked back to the living room and moved his jacket aside onto the armchair, putting the extra blanket on top of him.

His phone was on your coffee table, flashing. It was low on battery.

You checked if it was Android or iPhone. Android. Good, because you didn’t have a lightning cable, although you would have gone to the twenty-four-hour convenience store nearby to get one if he did have an iPhone. Back to your room. Got a charger and struggled to find an outlet in the dark. You’d think you would know where your own outlets were, but apparently you were too sleepy to remember. You felt around in the dark and poked at an outlet, stabbing the wall repeatedly before plugging it in. Maybe you should have turned a light on, sheesh.

You snaked the cable around and plugged his phone in. It vibrated approvingly and you gave it a thumbs up, even though it was an inanimate object.

Let’s just say living alone made you weird.

You let out an exhale and wandered off to brush your teeth.

Not noticing Yoongi had woken up and been watching your struggle. Saying nothing.

Pause.

Fast forward.

-

Morning.

You yawned and nearly jumped when you saw the unmoving pink blob on your couch. Oh, right. You were surprised he wasn’t awake, but you shrugged. The blankets were over his head, blocking out the sun. You tried to stay quiet, opening your fridge, staring at the contents.

Staring at it with a million question marks.

You had… kimchi. Eggs. Cheese. Definitely expired take-out. You took that out and dumped it in the trash can, grimacing at it. A stranger didn’t need to see how disgusting that was. You went back to your fridge. Um. It wasn’t that you couldn’t cook, it was that you didn’t have jack shit. And if you cooked on the stove, you would definitely wake up Yoongi.

Your stomach screamed in rage.

Feed me!

Ah, well. Sorry Yoongi. You settled on a kimchi-egg-cheese pancake thing. Was it going to be good? Sure. Was it not the most elegant thing in the world? Maybe. What can you do?

You began to chop the kimchi.

-

Yoongi turned over on the couch, groaning. He heard the sizzle of the pan. Smelled spice. Eggs. The world was unfamiliar. No one was yelling at him to get up. No one was doing the blankets off of him and calling him a lazy pig. 

"Motherfuc–!"

A female voice cursed in a loud whisper. You cut yourself off, muttering.

"Stupid oil, ugh."

Not his girlfriend. 

Slowly, Yoongi pulled the blankets off his head. An unfamiliar scent, different laundry detergent than he was used to. The sofa smelled different too, like vanilla with a hint of stale popcorn. Probably from being dropped in the cushions and forgotten about until months later. 

His stomach growled. 

The smell of the food enticed him. He got up, seeing you at the stove, wearing black pajamas with the sleeves rolled to your elbows, and a cream scrunchie holding your hair up. You made a face at the pan and scolded it. 

"Who's the boss here?" you hissed hotly at the sizzling food. "That's right, me, because I'm about to eat your ass, so simmer down and stop trying to singe my arm hair off."

Yoongi blinked. 

He got off the couch as you continued your quiet tirade, shoving your hand into a bag of cheese and sprinkling it on top, laying down a generous layer. 

You should cover it, Yoongi thought. To let the cheese melt. 

You grabbed a pan lid, and covered it. The lid definitely went to a separate set because it was a different shade of silver, but it didn't matter. You mumbled triumphantly at the pan. 

"Ha, take that, you stupid eggs, who's in the hot seat now, eh?"

Yoongi stared.

You lifted the lid and checked the cheese. A billow of smoke floated out. You seemed satisfied and turned off the gas. Lifted the pan and spun around. 

Froze. 

Yoongi blinked at you. 

Your eyes were wide, still holding the hot pan. 

Silence. 

A good ten seconds past. 

You slowly put the pan on the cork potholders at the counter. Two plates were at the counter with two sets of chopsticks.

"Uh... I made a kimchi-egg pancake t-thing..." you stuttered. "With cheese on top. You don't have to eat it. But I'm not going to poison you or anything. Er, well, that's something a someone who would poison you would say, huh? Oh, maybe I should have checked the expiration date on the kimc–"

"Why do you talk to your food?" Yoongi asked pointedly.

You turned bright red. 

"Um... bad habit. 'Cause I live alone..." You shifted your eyes. "No one... to talk to."

Yoongi stared at you. 

You turned around abruptly and grabbed a knife. Took off the pan lid. The kitchen was suddenly filled with the delicious smell of eggs and kimchi. The cheese bubbled as you cut it into pizza-like slices.

Yoongi sat down at the barstool, staring at it. He was the one who usually cooked. He hadn't had a home-cooked meal by someone else in forever. Not since he lived with his parents. 

That was a long time ago. 

"I seasoned the eggs beforehand and poured it on the sautéed kimchi..." You placed a plate with a pair of chopsticks in front of him, ears still red. You avoided looking him in the eye, scratching your cheek. "I, uh, have to go grocery shopping," you mumbled, taking a slice. "Sorry it's not that fancy..."

Yoongi picked up the chopsticks and took a slice. He blew in it carefully and took a small bite. Spicy, savory, delicious. He took another bite. And another. The food was hot, almost burning the roof of his mouth. This must be a dream. He wasn't in his nightmare. He wasn't going to question it. 

As long as he wasn't in his nightmare, he could pretend this was reality. 

Yoongi didn't notice you watching him with relief. 

He took another slice. The meal was quiet, but not suffocatingly so. It was calm, only interrupted by chewing. You reached into the cabinet below you and produced a water bottle. Put it next to him. Didn't say anything. Yoongi are three more slices, throat prickling with the spice, lips puffy, before he opened the water bottle and drank from it.

"If you want, I can direct you to a shelter."

Yoongi put the water bottle down. Stared at his stained, now empty plate. 

"Or you can call a friend to shelter you," you continued. "You can even get a restraining order if we involve the police–"

"No."

He said the word with harsh finality. 

"It's not that bad."

It wasn't. He was just being a child, running away. 

"... Okay."

Yoongi looked up. For a split second, there was immense pain in your eyes. Why? None of this was happening to you. You didn't know anything. You were just some stranger. Why was he even here? Why had he come here to sleep on some random couch? So dumb. Some random woman couldn't save him from his problems. 

... Your kids will spend years in fucking therapy wondering why they don’t understand how to make relationships with other human beings because their mom was a terrible fucking example...

Yoongi stilled as he remembered your words from last night. That was far too specific. His brows furrowed. You let out a sigh and took his plate.

"Do you want a shower?" you asked. "I have spare towels."

Yoongi tilted his head. "I don't have a change of clothes." He stared at the hardwood floor. "And my other clothes are probably burned by now."

You placed the dishes in the sink and began to wash them. 

"We can go buy some. I need groceries anyway."

He didn't understand why you were being so nice to him. It was strange. You didn't know him. Well, actually... he didn't even know your name either. 

"Uh..."

You looked up from the dishes, hands covered in soap. Yoongi did all the dishes at home. He did all the housework, in fact. This was weird, watching another person do housework. His voice was quiet, timid, crumpled like a piece of paper. 

"What's your name?" 

-

"Do you want white or black?"

You held up two multi-packs of t-shirts in his size.

"Uh... Black."

You dumped the black in the cart and put the other back. Yoongi stayed behind you, not picking out anything. You were wearing your backpack, a black cap, red wide-knit sweater, and black jeans. Black combat boots, the familiar staple for you. The two of you are standing in an aisle at the local convenience store. Yoongi was still wearing the same clothes from last night – black parka, black turtleneck, black jeans, black face mask. 

He mostly stared at the floor, following your boots. 

"White or black?"

Yoongi looked up to see you on the other side of the cart, holding two multi-packs of underwear. White briefs and black boxer briefs. He felt his cheeks heat up as you blinked at him. Instead of speaking, he grabbed the black boxer briefs from your hand, intending to chuck them into the cart.

Except his jacket sleeve caught a strand of your red sweater, the Velcro sticking to and unraveling it, so that when he twisted his hand to throw the plastic pack into the cart, the yarn tangled around his fingers and got caught, rapidly getting pulled around. Your eyes widened, gasping as the red string was yanked from your sweater. 

"O-oh!"

"Fuck!"

His hand was tangled in it and the part around your wrist tightened, the missing yarn causing the constriction. Yoongi cursed again, trying to shake free, panic rising. Oh no, fuck, what if you got angry? What if you started yelling at–?

You laughed. 

You started laughing. Yoongi froze, slowly lifting his head to witness your laughter. Your shoulders shook, shaking your head, big smile on your face. The yarn hung in the air, shaking a little.

The red string connecting you to him. 

Yoongi stared. 

At you.

His heart thudded in his chest. 

Thump. 

"Hold on," you chortled, reaching over and following the red yarn.

Thump.

His heart was like a bass drum. Consistent and loud, rhythm in his own ears. You untangled the mess slowly, carefully, wrapping the exposed end loosely around your wrist. Finally, it was off his fingers. Your fingers were centimeters from the back of his hand. You grasped the red yarn tightly. Yoongi looked at the end, trapped in the Velcro of his parka.

Thump. 

A fleeting feeling. 

Happiness.

You ripped the red yarn off, the end frizzy and scraggly. 

Another fluttering feeling. 

Sadness. 

You backed up, going back to the cart, tucking the end in next to your wrist, all chuckles. Thump, thump, thump. He couldn't breathe. It was impossible. What was going on? Why did he suddenly start shaking all over?

"I'm sorry," he blurted, breathless in panic. 

You shook your head, waving a hand. 

"Don't worry about it. This thing is old anyway." You pointed to the rack. "Is four enough? Or do you need more?"

"U-uh..."

"Let's get one more. I can always return it if you change your mind."

-

"Do you have a job to go to? Because I have to go soon," you were saying as you shoved the groceries into the fridge. Yoongi was unwrapping the plastic and cutting off the tags from the few clothing items you two had bought. 

"Um... yeah, I work at a music studio..." Yoongi mumbled. "I make my own hours."

"And it ends right before the last train, right?" you affirmed, nearly dropping the green onions and making a mad dash for them before they touched the ground. Whew. You shoved them back in your fridge. You didn’t really have an organization system. You probably should. Being an adult was hard.

"... Yeah."

"Cool, you should take a shower now then. I'll get a towel, hold on!"

You scrambled out of the kitchen to find a towel in the linen closet, the fridge door still open. 

"... Alright..."

-

Pause.

Fast forward.

-

Yoongi spent the entire train ride tense. You sat in your usual spot, humming along, bobbing your head to your music in your earbuds. Neither of you attempted to sit next to the other. Yoongi fully expected his girlfriend to be there as he stepped out of the train, at the last stop. He thought he was going to get yelled at once again. He thought she would be there to smack him upside the head again. He braced himself as the doors opened, exhaling deeply as he walked out of the sliding doors.

"Ugh, I need some energy," you mumbled behind him, yawning. 

No one was there. 

The bright streetlamps only illuminated the concrete. 

"Hey, Yoongi."

He turned his head to see you tilting yours. 

"You coming?"

You bounced on your heels. He remembered your usual routine. 

"Wanna race?" you asked with a big grin. 

-

Morning. Night. Morning. Night. 

Empty station at the last stop. No one but you and him getting off. 

Morning. Night. 

"Hey, Yoongi."

Morning. 

"You coming?"

Night. 

“Wanna race?”

Repeat.

The cassette tape replayed over and over, flipped around in the stereo, day in, day out, stuck on replay, a weird reality that wasn't his until it became his, seeing your face when he woke up, watching you cook breakfast in the morning, chastising inanimate objects when you thought he wasn't looking.

Your lips asking him once again. 

"You coming?"

Then you and him, breaking out into a run, racing to your apartment. 

At first, Yoongi didn't smile. 

Then one day, he did. 

And he kept smiling, smiling as he ran breathlessly with you. 

-

"What are you doing?"

You froze. 

Literally one second before you heard those words, you had been wiggling your arms like an octopus in front on your full-length mirror, flapping the long sleeves of your over-sized blue sweatshirt, your billowy knee-length gray shorts following suit. You reached up to your Bluetooth headphones to take them off.

And realized, with heated cheeks, that the music was not coming from your headphones, but the Bluetooth speakers on your desk, blaring the odd twangs of guitar and quirky drum beats, paired with whiny, almost nonsensical lyrics. 

You turned around. 

Yoongi stood at the entrance of your bedroom door, staring. He was wearing a black t-shirt. Black sweatpants that were slightly too short, exposing his pale ankles. 

The song went into the guitar solo. 

He blinked at you. 

"Uh... dancing?"

Blink. 

Normally after work, Yoongi would either be asleep or watching television in your living room. You told him cable came with the apartment and you never watched TV, so he should at least watch some in your stead. You usually went to your room. The first couple nights, you only danced in your chair. Then you got up and danced next to your desk, and then you were back to your wacky mirror dancing, thinking that if it was though headphones, then Yoongi wouldn't notice. 

But, of course, you had disturbed him with your music blasting through the speakers, which had never been disconnected all this time because, well, how were you supposed to know? They must have connected because your over-ear headphones died.

"That was dancing?" Yoongi echoed.

Your eyes shifted. "Er... it's stress relieving?"

Yoongi stared at you.

Blink. 

The song changed. One of your favorites. 

Your shoulders began to bounce. Your head tapped to the beat. Then your heel. 

Blink. 

"Are you possessed?" Yoongi asked with a deadpan look. 

The tune was getting to the good bit with the xylophone. Fuck it. He had already seen you octopus it up. You began to bob your head from side to side, breaking out to a big grin, shooting him some finger guns before going back to your full-body jiggle and arm flapping, singing along on the top of your lungs, prancing around your room, Yoongi staring at you the entire time in mild shock. He probably thought you were psychotic, but who cared, because you were clapping along to the snare drum, skipping in circles, pointing at him at certain parts in the lyrics and playing air guitar. 

His normally downcast cat-like eyes were huge.

You grabbed his hands at the guitar solo and he yelped, his arms rippling as you swung them around, you stumbling through the lyrics, singing the absurd words, and Yoongi gawking wide-eyed.

The song went to the final chorus and you wiggled like a fucking squid. 

Only to see Yoongi burst out laughing and wiggle his arms with you, tiny wiggles compared to your full-blown tentacle swings, but it made you laugh too, because it was all stupid and ridiculous and very embarrassing. 

With a start, you realized you had seen Yoongi laugh. 

And he looked so wonderful laughing, perfect teeth and pink gums, huge smile and scrunched-up face, black hair falling back from the strength of his chuckling, revealing his lovely fair-skinned features and those cat-like eyes sparkling.

Sparkling with brightness. 

The song ended and you were panting breathlessly.

Yoongi raised his eyebrows in disbelief, half-smirk on his lips. 

"Your music taste is nuts."

You smiled as the next song started. 

"Nah, this is just my nighttime dance party music. It's supposed to be crazy."

You flapped your sleeves to the beat of the drum. Grinned at him. 

"Because every night should be a dance party."

And you started dancing again, Yoongi watching you and laughing, even joining in sometimes. 

From then on, every night was a dance party. At one point, Yoongi started to bring you songs and weird beats he discovered for you to dance to. He even said a few times, "Hey, I made this. Can you make a dance from it?"

You'd dance to anything. 

You weren't great at it. 

But it was always hilarious. 

And it was always worth it, watching Yoongi laugh all night. 

-

Pause. 

Fast forward. 

Wait. Are you sure?

You can always rewind. 

You don't have to press play. 

Pause.

Play. 

-

“Do you like rap?”

You were sitting next to Min Yoongi on the night train. There were still people around, not yet the last stop. He was clutching his phone, face mask on his chin. He looked a little nervous.

“Yeah, of course. I like all music,” you said cheerfully. “Something you want me to dance to?”

Yoongi chuckled a little, giving you that little half-smirk. “No.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a… music producer. And I… I make music. And I wondered if you wanted to listen to a little bit my mixtape.”

“I do.”

Yoongi looked taken aback. You grinned.

“I definitely want to listen to it.”

You connected your earbuds to his phone and listened carefully. His words, his beat, his rhythm. Yoongi sat beside you, wrapped in his black parka, looking nervous as he chewed on his lip, but you didn’t notice, bobbing your head to certain bits, mouthing the chorus, raising your eyebrows as he altered the framework of a traditional song. He had only five tracks on the playlist, but you listened to them all, holding his phone. When the playlist ended, you clicked back to your favorite parts and replayed them, over and over, listening to his strong, raspy voice.

Yoongi sounded confident when he was rapping.

Like he was meant to do it, perfectly expressing himself with his simple words and elegant phrasing, his anger, his sorrow, his hopes. You could tell there was an underlying theme, an uncertainty about the future. As if he was taking steps to an invisible, unlit path, and he wasn’t sure whether to run forward without a guiding light or go back to all he knew.

You handed him back his phone with a smile. You understood him a little better now.

“Well?” he asked, still biting his lip.

“I really like it,” you said. “Especially your vocals. It’s different from other voices I’ve heard.”

“… It’s not that–”

“And I like your lyrics. They’re simple, but they pack a punch and make you think.” You smiled widely. “I like music that makes me want to listen to it over and over again. That’s how your rap makes me feel.”

Yoongi looked stunned.

You pointed to his phone. “You could release it just like this, if you wanted.” You tilted your head. “Hm, maybe a few more songs though. It seems like you’re trying to tell a story.”

He blinked rapidly, putting his phone in his pocket. “Y-Yeah… I’m working on a few more that I want to add.”

You nodded. “That’d be awesome.”

The train screeched to a halt. There was no one in the car. That was your cue. You stood, stretching first and then shouldering your backpack. Yoongi stood as well, pensive and silent. The train doors slid open. He walked out first and you followed. Streetlights harsh and bright on the concrete. Yoongi did his usual routine of looking to the edge of the train station.

Both of you froze.

“Get the fuck over here, Yoongi.”

You recognized her. She might be wearing a different dress and a different coat, but it was the same woman all right, with the same harsh scowl.

“I knew you wouldn’t be a man and face the music. Instead, you went off prancing with some whore.”

“She’s not a whore,” Yoongi muttered, pulling up his face mask.

You didn’t say anything. There was a sudden pressure on your chest, an overwhelming, tense heaviness, because you knew what was coming.

“Are you telling me that you’re not going to come home to the woman you supposedly love, the one you were supposedly going to marry and give a comfortable life to?” the woman accused. “Are you telling me that you can’t take responsibility for your actions? That you’re not a man, but a child?”

Yoongi took a step towards her.

The weight in your chest felt like a ton of bricks crushing you.

Another step.

“Yoongi.”

He turned his head, dark brown eyes flickering to you.

You smiled.

Smiled even though the moment was killing you.

“I… I have to finish this,” he mumbled, the sparkle in his eyes dulling with every passing second.

You kept the bright smile on your face.

Like a cheerful-sounding song with sad lyrics.

“Okay.”

Pause.

You wanted to rewind. You wanted to rewind so bad, even if it was only to ten minutes before this painful moment. With a shaking hand, you pressed play.

“My door is always open for you, Yoongi.”

He made eye contact with you. He nodded.

“Goodbye.”

You turned and ran.

Ran and ran, hoping he was running after you, but you knew he wasn’t, you knew he was walking towards that toxic woman and you could do nothing about it, you couldn’t care, you just had to keep running, running and running until you hit your front door, fumbling with your keys and running inside, slamming the door closed.

You froze.

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you ran to your room and threw up a specific playlist, a playlist full of cheerful-sounding songs with agonizing lyrics, hopeful beats tainted by upsetting words, and danced the night away, danced and danced. Not wanting to think about the blankets on the couch, the suitcase you had dragged out to let Yoongi borrow and put his clothes in, not wanting to think about his toothbrush on your bathroom sink, not wanting to think about all those nights dancing stupidly in this bedroom with him, and focusing only on dancing alone, singing the night away, on and on and on until you couldn’t stand anymore, couldn’t sing anymore, and you just fell on your bed and passed out, completely drained.

Physically.

Emotionally.

Empty.

-

3.

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts series #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you