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sorrowsofsilence · 27 days

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Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

#sorrows of silence masterlist #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #angst #sad poem #bad omens angst #angst fanfic #desolate love

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wen-kexing-apologist · 10 months

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Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Thank you for the Ask! Typically I find these questions difficult because I consume a lot of content and I love so many things dearly, and I inevitably forget about things that I cherish and then feel bad about it. So here are 10 of my favorite pieces of media I’ve pulled from my mental list of all the things in the world that have made an impact on me, I’m going to do these in alphabetical order

180 Degrees Longitude Passes Through Us

I only saw this show recently but it is an absolutely gorgeous piece of media. I have a bit of a theater background and this show definitely reads like a stage play, in the dialogue, in the setting, in the way that Nike carries himself around the space as Inthawut. This is a perfect piece of media in my opinion. The performances are a masterclass in acting, the use of vertical lines that place barriers between the characters or that cage them in, the complicated dynamics between the characters, the throughlines of grief and pain and loneliness that just radiates out of the screen for every character in this story. I have been through some shit, let me tell you, but there was a ten second moment in the final episode of this show that sent me in to the worst emotional distress of my entire life for a totally innocuous, complete reasonable, and minimally tragic scene and for that it does deserve immense praise.

Big Eden

I am making up for forgetting to put Pike on my Favorite Characters list by remembering to put Big Eden on my favorite media list! I saw Big Eden for the first time in my freshman year of college. Back then I was not aware of, or at leas was not acknowledging my own queerness, and to find a film like this one just healed a part of my soul I didn’t know was wounded. When I say I watched this film back to back two or three times when I first saw it, I mean that this is one of if not the only film that I have immediately started from the beginning the second that the credits started rolling. I love this film for what it gave me, an older queer romance, non-existent homophobia, PIKE! Some of the greatest lines of all time, that to this day get reactions out of me, mainly:

“I just want things to be nice for him”

and

"Well, screw you, Henry Hart. I do know what love is. You are my family. And I'm sorry... I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you."

And

“Why can’t you see how much love there is that people want to pour on top of you? I can’t help thinking that your grandma and I didn’t do right by you somehow. I feel like maybe we taught you something wrong, because you won’t tell me who you are. Did we teach you shame? Did I teach you that? Because it would break my heart if I had,” (watch the scene here)

Don't let the stars go out at night, don't let the moon break your heart, indeed.

I Told Sunset About You and I Promised You The Moon

ITSAY/IPYTM is two parts of one continuous story and therefore counts as a single piece of media.

I just got done gushing about this show the other night, because for me it is a foundational piece of queer media. It is one of my favorite pieces of media, point blank, period. Queer characters are allowed to complex, three-dimensional, and frustrating. They are allowed to make mistakes, and hurt the people they care about in their quest to better understand themselves. They are human. And the emotional honesty and vulnerability that the script and the actors showed struck deep in to my experiences figuring out my own identity. It has some of the strongest characterization that I have ever seen in media. The actors commit to the craft, the production team clearly put love and care in to every aspect of this show, every frame of it. The director trusted the audience to understand what was happening and trust the actors to play with silence. There is so much silence in this show because the actors portray so much with just the way they move around the space, the way they carry themselves, the way they look at each other. It is a gorgeous, gorgeous piece of media. It took me three watchthroughs of I Told Sunset About You before I was able to form a single analytical thought about it, because the first time I saw this show my brain went fuzzy. This show rewired my brain and changed my DNA.

And as a side note, anyone that thinks that Billkin is a bad actor or a bad crier can kindly meet me outside the Denny’s parking lot at 3am because I will not stand for Billkin slander in my household. That man is absolutely demolished the role of Teh. The constant fidgeting, the way his whole body just screams out whatever he is feeling without him ever having to say a word.

Moonlight Chicken

I have talked numerous times about why this show remains my favorite, and a lot of that has to do with the community that I gained around me because of it. But stepping back to the piece itself, I love how much this show is really dedicated to the importance of community. To showing the different mindsets of three generations of queer people, the way they struggle and don’t. The conversations that happen around poverty, and disability, and grief. The way that Li Ming and Heart are screaming to be understood. The way Jim has been hurt too many times and how that makes him scared to start over with Wen. The way Aof was able to take this BL structure and transform it into the story whose primary focus is on how a queer elder keeps and cultivates a relationship with his queer nephew. Jim and Li Ming’s relationship is the focal point of this show and I am so grateful to have that. The acting is phenomenal, the lighting is incredible, and it is a very technically strong piece. I know that Aof tends to tell us sad gay stories, but by god am I in love with every single Aof show I have seen (GOBK(with Jojo), ATOTS, HCTM, BB, MLC)

Pushing Daisies

What a deeply deeply tragic story wrapped up in the shiniest paper! I will never get over the fact this show got canceled because it is one of the greatest of all time. I love that Lee Pace has acknowledged how queer this show is, and how intentional that was, even though it was not discussed at the time of its release. Like, fundamentally this is a show about a man named Ned and his partner Chuck who can never touch. I’ll talk about this a little later too, but I am just such a sucker for stories where people can’t touch each other. I love the angst in it, the wanting to, the need to be intimate, to comfort, to care for someone and just…not being able to hold them. I loved watching how Ned and Chuck navigated this issue, the kissing through plastic wrap, the dancing in beekeeper suits, them getting excited for winter cause it meant they could wear gloves and hold hands like any other couple.

This show is hilarious and funny and fast, with a really intriguing concept and an extremely clear vision and it did not deserve the end it got.

I heard it might be on HBO Max, not sure if that is still true, but if you can find you, and you haven’t seen it, you should absolutely watch it, and if you have seen it, this is your reminder to watch it again.

Sense8

Before I begin, I just want to say

FUCK

NETFLIX

Once again, another incredible show, with very interesting themes, and things to say was canceled before it’s time. I will die mad about the fact that Netflix did not give this show the room it deserved to tell the story THAT THEY PITCHED TO NETFLIX AS A FIVE SEASON ARC. This show was so good, it got my homophobic dad to watch the whole thing without even squirming at the gay sex (like he did when he watched Game of Thrones).

I love love love love love this show. I love the way it connects people from all over the world, I love that these random strangers become a family, I love what it says about every day people being important, having important skills, and how much that can vary from being a good actor, knowing chemistry, driving, and being a skilled martial artist. I love how sex positive this show was. I love the utilization of orgies to demonstrate the way these characters are all connected to each other. I loved the mystery behind it all, they way the function of this psyllium network got progressively more understandable to us as time went on in much the same way that the characters get used to it. I love the humanization of drug users, that it touches on the struggles of trans people, queer people, eldest daughters, poor people, etc etc etc; ON BODY AUTONOMY IN MEDICINE!!! I truly believe there is something for everyone in this show and even though I am mad we really only got a two hour filmed storyboard of general concepts the Wachowski sisters were planning on diving in to over the next three seasons, I do love with my whole heart, for the memes, that Nom’s mother gets over her transphobia as a result of one very good weed brownie.

Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

I got in to these books after seeing the first season of Shadow and Bone on Netflix. Full disclosure, I did not read the Shadow and Bone trilogy, I will not read the Shadow and Bone trilogy, I do not care about the Shadow and Bone trilogy. This is a Crows Only household. Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom are very incredible heist books first of all. The main plot is compelling in and of itself, before you even add the characters in to it. And what phenomenal characters we have: Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, NINA MY BELOVED. I’m glad they aged them up for the show, but it is very funny to me to think of a bunch of gremlin teenagers running around and taking down criminal empires for the sake of revenge...and coin. Leigh Bardugo is a disabled woman and I love that she gave Kaz her same disability because it means that we get a really authentic portrayal of disability. His cane is seen as important, he is never embarrassed by it, and his chronic pain is always highlighted. (can we also talk about how pissed Kaz was when Genya offered to fix his leg?). I love how contradictory he is, how much he loves Inej and wants to be with her, and wants to touch her, and the way his trauma and touch repulsion just constantly stops him from being physical able to do what he actually wants. Inej, who loves Kaz back, and sees the boy underneath the image of a monster he has crafted for himself, who has her own hang ups around touch and understands Kaz, but values herself enough to not pursue a relationship with him if he will not or cannot work on himself. Who grew claws with the knives she carries with her, who herself is a walking contradiction, deeply religious and also murderous, and so brave, and kind, and patient, and who I love with my whole heart.

Wylan, whose own father tried to have him killed because he was dyslexic. Jesper who has been hiding who he is because of what his power did to his mother, who is always the comedic relief while harboring pain, our favorite gambling addict, ADHD, gunslinger. Matthais who has to confront a lifetime’s worth of propaganda. Nina who is just an all around badass motherfucker, who is fat and sexy and brilliant. My favorite superspy <3

The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh

You really have to go looking for this film if you ever want to watch it, because it has almost entirely been wiped away, which sucks because it is one of my favorite movies. Why?

Because it is one of, if not the most visually stunning piece of media I have ever seen. The plot for this film is a stuntman (played by Lee Pace) falls, is injured, and hospitalized at the same time as a 5-year-old Romanian immigrant who fell and broke her arm picking oranges. Roy (the stuntman) starts telling Alexandria (the little girl) a story, to manipulate her in to doing things for him, like spying on people and stealing pain meds. The movie cuts between real life, present day, and this grandiose epic tale that he is telling. This was 150% a passion project on Tarsem’s part, he spent 30 million of his own money making this movie, for it to only make 3 million in theaters upon it’s release. It took four years to film and was filmed in 24 different locations.

I love the overarching story, and how the growing friendship Roy builds with this little girl literally saves his life. The cast of characters is certainly interesting, Charles Darwin is a character in Roy’s story, but by GOD is it just a great watch, hours of stunning cinematography, with incredible costumes. Would highly recommend watching this if you can find it.

The Magnus Archives

I love this podcast for many reasons. First, because I think it was absolutely brilliant to start this show off as almost an anthology, lulling the audience in to a false sense of security by having each early episode be completely unrelated to one another, until they aren’t. Until names start popping up in multiple tales, until monsters and ghosts and any number of other unexplained creepy things start showing up in other people’s stories. How slowly you start to realize everything is connected and always has been. That set up was just…beautifully handled. Second, I love what this show says about survival and fear. That the more we believe in fear, the more powerful it gets. I love how often the survivors of these tales come out the other side of these experiences by thinking of people that are important to them, people they love. When The Buried tried to get that spelunker trapped in the cave, it was the thought of finding her sister, of getting help for her sister that got her through the other side. When Martin is in The Lonely, it is his thoughts of Jon that get him through the other side. I love that the avatar of Death is kind. I love that the Boneturner just wants to build a garden. I love the experiences and the world that Johnathan Simms builds in every story, and that he is able to create so many different types of fears, a little something for everyone. I love the heart at the center of this show.

The Princess Bride

Again, another piece of media that is fast paced and full of quips, with a beautiful, ridiculous, hilarious story, and a solid emotional core. I was raised on this film, which is part of why I love it so much. You can see and feel how much fun the cast had making this film. To this day it is beloved, highly quotable, and poignant. Also a great fencing movie, but I’m biased on that end as a fencer myself. I don't have much more to say about this film because I think it is perfect and I have no notes, but I will say I love how much this film helped Mandy Patinkin process his own grief around the loss of his father.

#wka answers #180 degree longitude passes through us #180d #big eden #i told sunset about you #i promised you the moon #itsay #ipytm #moonlight chicken #mlc #pushing daisies #sense8 #six of crows #crooked kingdom #the fall #the fall (2006)#the magnus archives #tma #the princess bride

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kiyosamu · 2 years

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You were happy once.

Pairing: Rintaro Suna x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, a prompt from this screenshot.

——— ♡ ———

“I feel like I’ve never been happy. There’s always just… something.” You pushed the hair out of your face, cold and wet from the pouring rain and cheeks stained from crying for what felt like an eternity.

Suna’s mouth curved into a small smile. A passive smirk - accompanied by a soft shake of his head.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked, looking away as you began to question the past few minutes. This was the first time you’d seen each other in years.

This was also the first time someone asked you how you were, and genuinely wanted to know, in a very long time.

“You’re lying.” Suna shrugged, resting his hand on top of yours; ring-adorned fingers interlacing with your own.

But you weren’t. Nothing you’d said had been a lie. You’d just opened your heart to your ex partner, the man you’d loved with everything you had, the one you’d never moved on from, the one you’d bared your soul to only to end up crushed when your relationship had reached its inevitable demise.

“Stop overthinking.” Suna’s golden eyes gazed into yours. He carefully studied your features, features he’d fallen in love with years prior and had never forgotten. He used to swear if he was an artist he could draw your portrait from memory, no matter how much time had passed since he’d seen you.

You hesitated for a moment.

“…Why would you say I’m lying, Rintaro?”

He knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew how badly you wanted to stay together, how much you wanted to stay by his side. He knew it. He spent every day missing you and knew it was his own damn fault for ending things and spending two years abroad.

“Because you are.” His hand left yours for a moment only to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. It was only once he’d taken a few sips and set his mug back down that he continued. “Only about one thing, though.”

He had to. When he lost his parents, he lost himself. The only thing keeping him together was you.

Suna didn’t want that for you.

He didn’t want you to be his emotional punching bag. He didn’t want to drain you with his grief; spend his days crying and processing the horrific accident that he couldn’t get out of his head. He didn’t want to tell you about the survivors guilt, because he knew you’d tell him how valuable he was. How much you loved him and cared for him, how the accident was the other person’s fault.

He knew it was, but it didn’t change the fact that he was driving. He’d wondered if he’d even had a fraction of a second longer, if he could’ve swerved and spared the lives of the only family members he had.

He couldn’t stop these thoughts, and he didn’t want to subject you to them.

You understood. When he ended your relationship, you insisted it was okay. Told him you could handle it. You wanted to.

But he didn’t want that for you, and he had to heal on his own terms.

Running into him two years later at your favourite diner was not a coincidence. You’d spent every Tuesday evening there since you’d been in high school. It was your place together.

After he left, you continued to come every week, even though you were alone, waiting, hoping for him to show up again and come back into your life.

And to your disbelief, on a rainy May evening, he did.

“And?” You smiled when you heard a small chuckle in response to your question. A sound you’d missed more than anything else. “What’s the one thing?”

“You said you’ve never been happy.” Suna squeezed your hands in his. “But you have. You were happy once - with me.”

“Rin…” A second round of tears threatened to slide down your cheeks. This year had been hard. Last year had been hard. Life has been hard and he was right, you were happy with him. After he left everything felt like it just kept falling apart and never stopped.

He tilted your chin up to force you to look into his eyes. His tired, golden eyes tinted the lightest shade of red made you realize his own emotion had started to get the best of him.

“I came back for you.” Suna spoke in a quiet, comforting tone. His deep voice softened as he continued, “I told you I would. I promised you. I’m sorry I left, I just had to and I-”

“Rin, it’s okay. You needed to heal.”

“I did.” Suna nodded. “I’m finally feeling better and now it’s time.”

“For what?” You asked.

Suna slid out of his seat and sat down next to you in the booth. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

“Time to make you happy again.”

#haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x reader #rintaro suna #rintaro suna fluff #rintarou suna #rintarou suna fluff #suna fluff #suna rintaro x you #haikyu angst #haikyuu angst #suna #suna drabble #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro headcanons #suna x reader #suna x female reader #suna angst #suna rintaro oneshot

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year

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Code Blue- Ch. 4 "The Car"

Summary: Lee tells Josie about what happened to Jacob. His tale is heart wrenching. Wounds are equally tended to, both physical and emotional, deepening an already preeminent connection. The visit is cut short but leads to a happy ending as the two bond over a similar interest.

*Major Warning!!* This chapter is very dark. Mentions of descriptive child death, angst, domestic violence, language, car accident, grief, loss

Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

February 3, 2023- 11 am.

"Lee. No, you do not have to tell me about it, or anyone else for that matter. You're right, Britt did tell me and she had no right to. I even begged her not to but she blurted it out anyways, well some of it. This is extremely personal and you owe no one an explanation of anything. I am sorry about anyone speculating about your life and thinking they know how you should and should not be grieving. I mean, if you wanna drink, or work crazy hours, or whatever else you need to do to help you deal with things, then that's your prerogative and it's your business, not theirs."

The last thing you expected to hear was what he said next accompanied by a sweet smile.

"Fuck em."

You released a hearty laugh. "Ok...fuck em. But right now, can I please get you into a chair and clean off your face?"

"Only if you let me tend to your hand."

Your eyes dropped in confusion to your bandaged hand. You had forgotten all about the blistering burns you received from idiotically picking up a scalding pan off the stove.

"It's...nothing really, just a minor burn."

"Who's the doctor again?"

"Yeah, yeah. Ok, you win doctor know it all. Come on, let's get you up."

You moved up against him and took his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder, then placed your arms around his waist, hooking your hands together behind his back.

"1...2...3." you counted as he pushed with his feet, helping you lift him.

"Ok, I'm good." he said as he peered down into your eyes.

Your 5'7 frame was literally standing flat against him with his arm over your shoulder and your arms clasped around his 6'5 body, your head arched back while your eyes were locked into the blue beholders of his soul. Oh how you could see it too...

The top of your head barely reached his chin making you feel so incredibly vulnerable. If he wanted you right now, he would have you. You knew right there in that moment, you were done for, for he already had you. He had you at just breathe.

You slowly lowered him into a kitchen chair, then reluctantly released him to go get the paper towels you saw on the counter. You soaked the sheets under some lukewarm water, rang them out and then sat before him.

As you softly and gently blotted and stroked his upper lip area, you could feel his eyes upon you, studying your face. You worked your way through his intimidating gaze and finally removed all the dried blood from his beard and mustache.

"There. Good as new."

You got up to then pour him a large glass of ice water as you had found some ice in the freezer.

"Here you go. Drink it all, you need it."

What Lee needed....wanted, was your body against his again but he would keep that to himself, for...to him...he knew you were something special after everything you had just done for him. Actually, he knew it from the first time he ever saw your face.....and he knew your lips had been on his because he had tasted your cherry lip gloss when he awoke, and he would also keep that to himself...but what he didn't want to keep to himself was his story of his son. He never spoke about Jacob to anyone, not even his best friend Orlando... but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he wanted to tell you. Maybe it was just to release the pent up knowledge, or maybe it was because he felt he could trust you with the depths of his very soul that held the darkened parts of him no one cared for....except you.

Lee chugged the water down in a mere three seconds and then watched you in awe as you got up to get him another glass without him even asking or saying a word.

He was the healer. He was the one who tended to everyone else. No one ever bothered to help him... unconditionally anyways. The relationships he had were never a give and take, but just a take on their end until they depleted him of his ability to care anymore. That's why he had fended off ever being involved with someone again. His last one, Jacob's mother Elizabeth, did a doozy on him, and he was about to tell you all about it.

"Thank you." he softy said as he took the newly filled glass of ice water from you. "Now it my turn to fix your hand up."

He held out his hand with a slanted smile, wanting you to give him your hand. You reached out and slid your trembling hand into his.

"You...are shaking?" His head tilted and his brows furrowed. "Do...I frighten you?"

"Oh god no...I'm sorry...it's...it's just nerves...you know? My anxiety?" There you were, completely fibbing again as it was him causing all your nerves to misfire, but not in a bad way.

His eyes were skeptical as he unraveled your makeshift bandage.

"Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry about?"

"I...I don't know. I guess because my anxiety is a constant thorn in everyone's side?"

"It's not in mine?" He angled your hand back and forth as he assessed the degree of the burns. "Good news. You are going to live."

You giggled. He sure could make you laugh like no other.

"Well, I don't know if that is good news really." you sarcastically relayed.

"Why do you say such a thing about yourself? and also apologizing for things that are not your fault?" He got up and opened a cupboard, pulling out some more gauze and a tube of ointment, then a steak knife from the drawer and smirked. "There's no scissors."

He sat back down and began working on your hand. "So...are you going to tell me why you seem to think your existence is not important? Because I'll tell you right now, I like and enjoy your existence very much Jo March....funny, my birthday is in March."

His face was all cutely scrunched in seriousness as he applied the antibiotic gel to your palm. Oh lord, the way his baby soft finger moved over your skin was doing things to your core that you never deemed possible. Unlike him, you were extremely reticent about telling him of your past. Not because you didn't trust him, but it was just shameful.

Your silence mad him stop as he sweetly looked at you. "It's ok. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to and I apologize if I have made you feel uncomfortable in any way." His deep succulent voice was so damn sincere, that you folded.

"No, please. Do not be sorry. It's...no big deal really. I...I have just always felt to be a burden with my issues. An embarrassment even, like if I would have an attack in public when I was with my friends or family. I could see it on their faces and then I would find myself always saying I'm sorry. Old habits die hard I guess."

"That seems like a big deal to me. Maybe you need different friends? and they say you can't pick your family, but I tend to disagree. Family isn't always blood. I have a best friend whom I call a brother. I am sorry that you have to go through that." He finished wrapping you hand and tied the ends of the gauze together in a tiny knot.

"I couldn't agree more. The friends I spoke of are no longer in my life anyways....Britt, she's like a sister to me since I can't fucking stand the one I have....thank you...for what you said, and for tending to my hand."

"No problem. I'll send you the bill."

There was that sly, cute as hell grin again on his heart shaped lips.

"So....do you mind if I tell you my story now?"

His eyes were that of a puppy, how could you tell him no even if you wanted to? It was obvious he desperately needed to talk to someone and for some crazy unbeknownst reason, he was trusting you, a complete stranger per se, with his most personal and painful moments. Denying him that was not an option. No wonder he was drinking himself into oblivion. You had been there. Not for the same reasons but you still understood and sympathized his need to wash it all away.

"Of course, if that is what you want and need to do. I will listen." Your smile to him was so naturally offered and it eased his own anxiety. Something you recognized so well since you were cursed with the debilitating emotion.

"This house...it is mine. But it was mine, Jacob's and his mother's once. Elizabeth is her name. We weren't married...I don't know why...I just never asked her...I...I didn't really feel that way towards her...you know, the forever thing? We just kind of did what we were supposed to do when she got pregnant. Things had already been rough between us anyways before all that. Her getting pregnant was not planned, but I wanted to take responsibility, so I bought this place and we moved in just a few months before she gave birth. I toughed it out with her for Jacob's sake, but I enjoyed every minute here with him."

He smiled as he spoke the last half of that sentence and closed his eyes. You could see glistening in his eyelashes from the tears he was holding back and it was making you tear up as well. Opening his eyes, he continued.

"Over the years, it got harder and harder with her. She was cold to me...and to Jacob. I don't know if she resented him but I suspected it, or maybe it was just me she resented. She was wild when I met her and that only seemed to intensify after being tied here with us. Like now, I worked all the time while she stayed home and cared for him. One night, we had a huge blow up on a drive home from her sister's house. I was driving. She wouldn't let it go and kept screaming at me while Jacob cried in the back seat. It was raining and dark out. She started hitting me and I tried to stop her with my right arm by pushing it down on her while I kept my other hand on the wheel. It only infuriated her more and that's when she grabbed the wheel. The car jerked so hard and I spun out on the wet pavement. I..I couldn't control it and slammed sideways into a tree....Jacob...flew from his car seat and hit his head on the window....she never buckled him in...."

My god...you wanted to hold him so bad as you saw him close his tear ridden eyes and drop his head but didin't know if it was welcomed, so you kept your distance and let him go on.

"She never buckled the fucking seatbelt...and do you know how I know this? Because she told me...the day of his funeral, right after we buried him. We were fighting and she blurted it out...and do you know what else she told me? That it was my fault because I was driving too fast....which you don't know how many times I have blamed myself for that exact reason, still do....and then she saved the best for last....she told me that...that I....wasn't his biological father....and that she was glad.....4 years ago, as of yesterday, I buried my son."

"Oh my god...Lee...she...she really told you something so viciously cruel?? and at his funeral of all places?"

"Yeah."

Tears permeated your eyes. Was this woman even human? You knew what he would tell you was going to be sad, but this, this had to be the saddest thing you ever heard.

You took in a deep breath and then released it hard and heavy. Words couldn't be found and so you just did it. You stepped forward and tenderly pulled him down into your arms.

"I am soooo sorry." you whispered against his ear.

Lee's hands hovered a few inches over your back, almost afraid to touch you as he was in shock by your unexpected embrace. He then let his arms fold around you as he closed his eyes. He couldn't even remember the last time he was ever held like this, probably because it never happened. Everything was messed up, and yet everything was so perfect.

Your exceedingly long affectionate hug was suddenly interrupted by your phone ringing. You both slowly withdrew the cuddle with a most intense stare at each other...until.

"You uh...gonna get that?" Lee asked, still locked in your eyes.

Finally you blinked, breaking the trance you both were in. "Oh, yeah. yes."

It was your mom.

"Mom? Is everything all right?"

"Well it is now that I know you are alive?!"

"Mom...calm down.."

"Don't tell me to calm down young lady. You left yesterday without a peep from you since then."

"Mom, I told you I was leav..."

"You do remember, we have a funeral to plan, or are you to busy traipsing after your new doctor friend? That's right, Britt told me everything, you know she will not lie to me."

Margaret was speaking so loud, you knew Lee was hearing every single word judging by his scrutinizing look.

"Ok, Mom? I'll be home soon. Love you. Bye!" You hung up as fast as you could, feeling utterly embarrassed.

When went to find Lee's, he was already looking at you with a sly grin. Yep, he heard every....fucking...humiliating...word.

"I'm sorry...Britt told her where I was..."

"There you go again, apologizing when you shouldn't be.....How's your mom doing? Losing a child, no matter their age or how, is never easy."

That compassionate side of him just kept blowing you away. How kind was he to ask about her, someone he had never even met, even after hearing her theatrics. He understood her grief all too well.

"Well, as you heard...not well."

"You should probably get going. She's obviously worried about you." His eyes were so caring but you could also see the part in them that dreaded your absence.

"I don't feel right just leaving...not when you literally just told me about Jacob, something you have obviously been keeping inside for some time if you were willing to tell a complete stranger."

You wanted to tell him that you didn't WANT to leave, and you wanted to hear him tell you he didn't want you to either.

"Well, let's see. I have carried you in my arms, sat and talked to you for over an hour to make you feel better, let you hold my hand. You came all the way here to bring me back my bracelet and nursed me back to health. I fixed your injured hand and told you the deepest darkest tale of my life. I'd say were are past the strangers stage. Acquaintances now? Maybe we could work our way up to...friends?"

You were absolutely melting as you jellied knees threatened to give out. "Yes...I...I would really like that....Lee."

"Alright, it's settled then Jo March. So...let me walk you out." His smile was soft and his touch softer as he placed his hand on the small of your back, seeming that he didn't want to come on to strong.

"Hollllly shit!" Lee exclaimed as you both walked onto the porch. "Is that...your car??" His eyes were excited like a kid in a candy store as he went jogging over to it.

"87 Monte Carlo Super Sport.... and mint to boot." he reeled in wonder as he circled the vehicle with his fingertips lightly tracing over it. "May I?" He pointed to the door, his eyes asking to look inside.

"Sure." you giggled. Seeing him perk up like this after the horror story he just told you, made you happy. He lived with that hell every single day and something as simple as a car, temporarily fixed him....like a band aid until it lost it's stickiness.

"How did you know all that?" you asked him as he sat behind the wheel, taking in the view of your sound system.

"Well I suppose if we are going to soon work towards being friends, you should know that I absolutely love classic cars and trucks, and this here....is a beauty." His eyes danced all over the dash but then had glanced at you after he said that last word.

"I can see that judging by the 75 Doge Dart Swinger sitting in your driveway."

His stunned eyes popped up over the steering wheel.

"I can't believe it..." His gaze was frozen on you.

"What?" you half laughed, feeling awkward from his incredulous stare.

"You...I...I mean...a woman after my own heart. I think we are going to be great friends." His grin was superb and radiant, matching his dreamy eyes. What he really wanted to say was that he hoped to be much more although he had been doing everything in his power to fend off women. You loved something he loved on a whole 'nother plain, what were the odds of that?

"And we could start by firing this baby up. Could I hear her run? and possibly....the kick ass stereo you have in here?"

The fact that he referred to the car as a she absolutely amazed you. His love for these works of art was truly genuine.

"Absolutely."

You fumbled through your bag and tossed him the keys in which he caught effortlessly in his left hand, although you noticed him to be right handed. He then turned her over.

"Oh wow...listen to her purr. You do know now that our new friendship will require you giving me a ride in her sometime." he chuckled.

"Sure. I'll even let you drive her."

His mouth uncontrollably dropped open as he gazed at you.

"No way. Get the fuck outta here...ok no, not really but you know what I mean."

"But only if I can ride in yours too sometime, maybe even drive her as well?"

"Oh I see. You're playing the "I'll let you if you let me" thing like what occurred earlier." The side of his lip curled up, forming his mouth into the cutest smirk. And to think that you had your lips on that mouth for a split second made your butterflies go wild.

"Of course." you smirked back.

"You don't gotta twist my arm sweetheart. it's a done deal. Where do I sign?" he chuckled and turned in the radio.

"Well, what do ya know? It's my theme song unknowingly written for me."

He cranked up the song that was playing.

youtube

"Listen to that bass, holy fucking hell! Girl, I am sure gonna miss you when you leave." he laughed. You could hear it in his laugh that he truly meant it.

He started singing for a minute as he tapped his hand on the steering wheel.

"It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy cause every now and then I kick the living shit outta me......"

He shut it off and got out chuckling.

"You must think that is an understatement after what you walked in on here today huh?" he said as he dangled your keys out in front of you.

He knew he should have just left it running, but subconsciously, he didn't want you to leave. He had never desired a woman's presence so much in his entire 43 years.

"No, Lee, not at all. You're going through a terrible time. Here, let me give you my number so you can text me..or call..whichever...I..I mean just in case you need to talk or something. I feel absolutely awful for having to leave. Will...you be alright? You did collapse earlier."

The fact you even cared about him boggled his mind.

"Only if you take mine." he grinned like the cheshire cat.

"I can see this game will be of prominence in our newly found friendship." You laughed and handed him your phone. "Here, put your number in and call your phone, then we'll be even."

"There. All done." he said as he handed you your phone back. "You don't need to worry, my best friend will be around. I've talked your ear off enough. I don't want to bother you with all that you have going on."

"Nonsense. You are in no way a bother. Remember, I like your voice?"

He flashed back to the hospital in your room as you had grabbed his hand, stopping him from leaving and asking him to please stay and talk you as you liked the sound of his voice.

"How could I forget?" His eyes were alluring in his statement, making your already wild butterflies spin out of control.

You smiled and went to get in your car.

"Wait!"

He rushed over and opened your door for you. Oh damn, he was killing you with kindness and you were eating it right up. You got in and rolled your window down.

"Take care of yourself Lee."

He smiled. You to Jo march."

He went to walk away, then turned around. "Oh....and I like the taste of your cherry chapstick."

He winked and trotted off with his hands in his pockets while singing "I kissed a girl and I liked it", and then disappeared into the house.

If anything was an understatement, it was the ghost face expression you had from the movie Scream. From this moment on, you knew your world would be forever changed.

@redeemer46

#lee pace #leeepfrog #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #JoLee #love stories #dark stories #slow burn #slow build

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anonymitywriterprescott · 3 months

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WIP

Knock, knock, knock. The door swings open, and his eyes meet mine. "Love, fucking, sucks" You slur, as you lean on the door frame attempting to keep your balance. He hesitated. "You're drunk" "You're sober" You huffed. He pulls you inside, closing the door behind you as you crash onto his couch. "Actually, I'm not" You can hear the pop of a bottle top and the clinking of glasses as he gets them out of the cabinet. Sitting beside you he puts down the glasses, and what you now see is vodka, on the table in front of you. Reaching behind you, he grabs the blanket on the back of the couch. You can smell the vodka on his breath already, mixed with the scent of his clothes, blood, cigarettes and … something burnt? You didn't wanna know. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders, "It's freezing out, did you walk here?" "No, I teleported" Sarcasm dripping off your words, you grab the bottle and pour both of you a drink. "Oh haha, funny, how did you get here because you better not have been stupid enough to drive" "I didn't" He grunts, you can't tell if he's happy you didn't drive or upset you walked in the snow. "So I know why love sucks but why do you think that? something happen with you and Mr. Unknown?"

You stay silent, downing the vodka as quickly as you can.

The air hangs, he shifts on the couch to turn towards you more.

"You know those 2 guys we saved last night?" Taking the lid off the bottle. "The ones in the coffee shop or the ones in the car on makeout mountain?" "The car" You take a good swig of the vodka, honestly it's more of a chug but you don't realize that til you start choking on your burning throat. "Bloody hell, what about them?" "Well, Mr. Unknown was also the blonde one in the car, aka the one riding Mr. 6ft bodybuilder in the front seat" The rasp in your voice is hard to ignore and at this point, you don't know if it's the alcohol burn or the tears your holding back. "Oh shit" You hand him the bottle, he takes a drink (tbd)

"Yeah

and I couldn't, fucking, tell anyone, I was surrounded by my friends and I couldn't tell a fucking soul that I just saw my entire world crashing down because I'm such a fucking good person that I still didn't want to out him" "Plus ya know, the whole 'stitching up [names] stab wound and making sure she doesn't die' thing" "Well yeah that too"

You go to grab the bottle and take another drink, this time the burn feels faint, barely like pins and needles. You swing your legs, laying them over his and lay the blanket over your arms.

"Sometimes I wish I was a worse person" "What, like me?" "I didn't say that. I can't tell anyone what happened, I shouldn't be even telling you, because it doesn't matter that he broke my heart, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone and I would be a shitty person if I started telling people because it's shitty to out him. But now I can't even tell my best friends, people who have literally saved my life, who my fucking ex-boyfriend is and why we broke up, I'm forced to keep it secret and pretend everything is alright but it's not and maybe he's shitty for putting me in this position but…" You lose steam, all of your anger slowly turning to grief.

"It's not fair" "He's shitty for doing this to you" "I know"

#m4m #writing #tumblr writers #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #prescottstories #this is 100% written with #spike btvs #in mind (where he always is rent free)#and maybe ill make it an actual fic and continue it #also idk if i like it in 3rd person or if I should change it to 1st?

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bellsnuit · 2 years

Text

Beats (Steve Rogers x reader)

Summary: Steve thinks you left after spending the night with him.

Words: 596

Only fluff.

If you like, I would be so grateful if you reblog or comments to interact ( I love to share your thoughts)

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Steve stirred in bed and quickly felt pressure in his chest. It was empty. Empty and cold on his right side. And worse, he remembered hearing your "I go to the bathroom" fallacy. His heart was in his throat, remembering how after so many years, he had decided to focus on someone, to encourage himself to love, the moment he was in front of you and your eyes glazed over as you tried to decipher the exact color of his eyes: He had already been warned that you were weird, and he didn't think that much. But that was what he liked about you.

And now, he was drowning in grief just from feeling like he'd thrown away that nice bond, thinking you'd looked at him differently, but in the end, he always ended up being little Steve without serum.

He thought back to the night, looking for something he'd done wrong, something he'd said wrong. He held his hands to his head, sighing heavily and assuring himself that the only thing that had happened, was that you didn't like him and it had been an attraction. If that was it, you had completely broken his heart.

Without much else, he got dressed in the first sportswear he could find and poured himself a glass of water, completely ignoring his surroundings. He was so overwhelmed and hurt, he didn't even notice the glass of water with your lipstick, or your clothes lying on his couch left over from the day before, or even worse, the biscuit in the oven, and went outside.

He trotted up the first two steps quickly, but the door behind him opening made him stop.

"Steve?" his skin bristled completely and he lifted his head, seeing you on the step of the stairs, with a tousled bun, leaning against the wall, a frown on your face and his T-shirt. You were wearing his T-shirt. He felt the world spin three times and his soul returns to his body. He wracked his whole body, and his heartbeat was going a thousand beats a second, and he was unable to move. You placed one of your bare feet on top of the other and as you watched him stunned, you raised a somewhat playful eyebrow. "Were you running or going somewhere?"

This one swallowed "I thought you were gone"

You wrinkled your nose "Of course not, silly" this one climbed just one step, and there he stayed again. You saw the insecurity on his face and gave him a sweet smile "Steve, I was in the bathroom. I've been up early, and besides, the sponge cake I made is due. It's chocolate, do you want to try it? Also, the coffee is already in the pot, and I cleaned those old magazines that had a lot of dust" you took a breath, making an amused grimace and puffing your cheeks and twisting your head. "You know they're still putting out some of those comics? I think I have some that were my brother's, I can give them to you."

"You didn't leave" you saw him aware that he hadn't retained a word of what you had said. You folded your arms and bit your lip lightly, and his legs trembled. "You stayed."

"And I made us breakfast, come on. I think we need to talk, not all friends make love usually. Usually, those friendships are something weirder" and by the time you realized it, he had finished climbing the steps and was standing in front of you. "Steve?"

"Did you make breakfast, clean up my things, and wait for me to get up?" you smiled tenderly at him. Aware that he must not have lived through those experiences many times.

You took his hand "And I cleaned that stain on your suit."

"Thank you "you leaned on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his lip.

"Come on."

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #captain america #steve rogers fluff

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portfolio-of-dreams · 2 years

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washed away || yuuji itadori x gn! reader

warnings: angst. hurt, no comfort.

w/c: 625

a/n: not beta read or proofed. just found this in my drafts, so here ya go.

The rain drums down in your shoulders, soaking through your top as you stand on the doorstep watching as he left your life. Bags packed up and being tossed into the back of the cab as he pulled his jacket collar up, slightly shielding his neck from the water droplets.

The soft melancholy of the sound faded in and out against the harsh crashes of thunder. There was nothing left for the two of you be. Started as strangers, just classmates that occasionally said hello. That dynamic shifted when Nobara started bringing you along to meet ups, hang outs, and study sessions. You were friends, and that blossomed into subtle glances, stolen touches and soft kisses. The cycle was now complete- back to strangers, as you bit your lip and watched him climb back up the driveway to you.

“Yuu..” you started but your words broke under your tongue.

“You should get out of the rain, you’ll get sick.” His words barely reached you. He didn’t lift his head from staring at the concrete, his strawberry blonde hair flattened, bangs framing his face from the weight of the rain.

He put his hands on your shoulders, leading you out of the rain to the cover of the porch. The wetness on your face all intermixed. The saltiness of your tears that poured down your hot cheeks, the slight stale taste of the rain. It got in your eyes, between your parted lips, and collected in the divots of your collarbones. Your clothes were soaked and heavy, sticking to your skin. You lip quivered and your lungs ached- drowning for a breath.

A flash of iridescent gold echoed behind Yuuji, lighting the atmosphere of the stilled gray night. And you finally saw his face; dark circles emphasized his honey brown eyes that were bloodshot around the edges. Your heart ached, feeling a grief that shattered it so delicately, and swallowed it whole.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this” your words trembled in a timid voice, choking on thoughts too loud to speak.

“We gave it our best shot, y/n. And I loved you in the only way I knew how- with my whole being.” His eyes were still locked on your form, hands on your shoulders and you swear you could feel his soul crumbling through his fingertips.

The cab driver honked the horn, ready to drive away as his windshield wipers fought against the pounding rain. Yuuji turned towards the car and put a hand up towards him, signaling just one more moment. His face turned back to you, a forced smile barely crept across his mouth and vanished quicker than you were able to blink back tears. His lips met with your forehead, the soft sensation wept through the pools of skin and you were ready to crumble to your knees and give him everything all over again.

He pulled the collar up again and rushed towards the cab. He quickly slid into the back seat and pulled the door shut. You couldn’t move- you stood there as he told the driver the destination and they started to pull away. And then you did the only thing you could, you ran. Your bare feet hitting the pavement after the yellow and black checked car. But he didn’t look out the window at you, he didn’t look back. And he didn’t tell the driver to stop when you fell against the asphalt, vision blurring as your screams were drowned out by the roaring thunder of the storm. The car kept driving as puddles splashed up around the tires.

And as you sat there in your knees in the midst of the night you thought, maybe forever was meant for memories, not people.

tagging: @httphaitani @blueparadis @momoewn @xshinigamikittenx @suyacho @islascafe @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @tokyo-ballroom @hanayanetwork @planetonet

#portfolio of dreams #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji x you #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk yuuji #yuuji itadori drabble #jjk angst #hanaya network #planeto🪐

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader - Welcome Home to Westview

Warnings: WANDAVISION SPOILERS, mentions of death, angst and fluff Word Count: 2,8K Summary: You join Wanda when she drives to Westview. Next thing you know, you’re reunited with Loki who you lost years ago because of Thanos. He’s there to welcome you home 1950s style and make up for lost time. Author’s Note: This was requested and I absolutely loved this idea. I hope you like it! <3

YOUR POV

When everyone came back, it had been a miracle. Everyone who had vanished during the blip. Everyone who had vanished when Thanos had singlehandedly taken away half of all life. Most people were happy to have their loved ones back. Most people got someone back.

But that wasn’t your case, nor was it for Wanda. She came back into a world without Vision, you had to keep living without Loki. You always knew that he had died differently. Thanos had killed him and you had witnessed it. You should’ve known just how real it was, that he was gone. Seeing it should’ve been proof enough in order for you to move on and let go. Yet somehow, when the portals opened you had dared to feel hope. Deep down, you had hoped he too would’ve walked out of the golden gates with everyone else, but you had been wrong.

He had never come back.

You and Wanda had grown close during your time as Avengers. Recently, the two of you had grown even closer because of your shared grief. The two of you understood one another deeply and it connected you.

That’s why you had joined Wanda today. She was headed to SWORD headquarters where they were keeping Vision’s body. Everything about it was unsettling and you too felt angry about it. Something about SWORD was fishy and you didn’t trust their motives at all, neither did Wanda. All she wanted was to have a funeral for the man she loved.

You had agreed to wait in the car as she walked inside, but you kept glancing at the entry just in case you would have to walk in to support your friend. Time passed and eventually Wanda returned to the car alone. Even before she sat down, you could tell things hadn’t gone too well. She slammed the door shut and put her hands on the steering wheel tightly.

“Are you okay?” You were concerned for her well-being.

Wanda didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes scanned the parking lot and then she looked at the papers she kept in the backseat. For a while, she seemed to be deep in thought and you decided not to push her. Eventually, Wanda faced you.

“There’s something I need to do,” She stated mysteriously.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Wanda sounded sure of herself, “I would like it if you came with me, if that’s okay.”

Usually, Wanda handled things on her own. She would push others away and never ask for help. But this seemed different. She was willing to accept your support, and you were more than happy to be there for her; no matter what.

“Okay, I’m right here for you, Wanda.”

Despite how frustrated and upset Wanda felt, she managed to smile. It was nice to have you by her side during such difficult times.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The car ride was long, but it didn’t feel like it. Wanda and you weren’t talking and the car radio filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, yet you could tell that something had gone terribly wrong. Once Wanda was ready to talk about it, you would be there for her. For now, your presence was more than enough.

Since you didn’t talk, you tried to focus on the songs on the radio to distract yourself from your own, deep thoughts. Sometimes, they would get the best of you and right now, you wanted to stay tuned in the moment, not in the past.

Eventually, you drove past a sign that said Welcome to Westview. It was a small town, but nice nonetheless. It looked old. Buildings were worn and the streets looked like they had been used for decades. The town had a lot of family-friendly places and small shops. You saw an old lady drinking coffee by herself and a man putting up flyers. No one seemed to pay too much attention to you as Wanda drove by everything slowly. You noticed that Wanda was eyeing the street names closely. Was she searching for something?

It didn’t take too long until Wanda took a turn to a street called Sherwood drive and slowed down the car, eventually coming to a stop. You noticed the foundation of a house that had once been there. The neighborhood around you was full of family homes and it had a very warm and cozy energy. As nice as your surroundings were, Wanda looked like she wanted to cry.

“Can you stay here? I need to do something on my own,” Wanda finally broke the silence. How long had you been in silence? You weren’t sure.

“Yeah. Just let me know if you need me, okay?” You wanted to reassure her of your support.

Wanda just nodded and reached to the backseat to grab a paper. With one last glance at you, she got out of the car and closed the door. You sat comfortably on your seat and turned the radio on a little louder as she walked away. The song that was playing was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your tongue on the name of it. The lyrics were beautiful and you found yourself relaxing to the melody.

“... If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do, is to save everyday 'til eternity passes away just to spend it with you ...”

Naturally, you were worried about her. Wanda hadn’t spoken about what happened when she tried to recover Vision’s body. Clearly, things hadn’t gone too well. Had she even been allowed to see him?

As you sat there, you wondered how you would’ve felt if you had been in her shoes, if someone had Loki’s body and they wouldn’t let you have a funeral for him. Immediately, your gut twisted in disgust and pain. It seemed like a nightmare.

For all that you knew, Loki was somewhere in space, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. When the Guardians had heard the distress signal, they had only found you and Thor. Loki was nowhere to be seen. All the debris from the spaceship had made it nearly impossible to see and navigate through it all.

It had been years but it still hurt. Knowing he was left alone broke your heart, as if seeing him die hadn’t been soul crushing enough. You knew you would never get over losing Loki. He was and always would be the love of your life. Even if he wasn’t there, you always kept him in your heart. You were sure your very souls were connected. The love you had was just that deep.

Curiously, you looked out of the car window just to keep an eye on Wanda. She was standing in the middle of the ruins with the paper in her trembling hands. You couldn’t see what it said, but you knew it was important because once she looked at it, she broke down into tears. The sight of her there, all alone in so much pain was awful. For so long, she had been strong and kept on a tough face, but she had reached her breaking point. All the pain, the anger, the misery, it had gotten the best of her. You knew exactly how it felt and your first instinct was to get out of the car and go there to comfort her. How could you just sit there when she was sobbing on the cold hard ground all by herself?

When you got out of the car and looked at Wanda again, she was standing. Her powers were growing around her and a bright red light made you squint your eyes. What on earth was going on?

“Wanda?” You called out for her worriedly, unsure whether she could hear you from so far away. Her powers grew stronger at an alarming rate. You could feel just how strong the magic was and goosebumps rose on your skin. Something was terribly wrong and you knew things were getting out of hand. Despite how dangerous it was to approach something so chaotic and powerful, you tried to reach her. You never did.

Wanda’s powers were explosive. In the blink of an eye, her magic poured all around her and covered everything and everyone in sight. You remembered seeing that signature scarlet shade all around you and then everything went blank. It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to be scared, nor to use your powers to shield yourself from hers. The red swallowed you completely with no warning.

‘

What happened?

How did I get here?

You stood in front of Wanda and Vision’s house. Despite not remembering anything at all, you just knew that it was where she lived. Why were you just standing on her lawn? That was odd. You couldn’t remember getting there, but strangely enough, it didn’t bother you too much. You must’ve just taken a stroll and ended up at your best friend’s house. As strange as it was, you didn’t think twice about it.

With a smile on your face, you straightened the skirt of your silky dress and looked at your heels to see that they were dirt-free and shiny. After all, your outfit was brand new and you didn’t want to get the dirty right away, now did you?

“You look more beautiful than I remembered,” A familiar voice caught your attention. Your eyes widened as you stood there, now in shock. It had been too long since you had last heard that voice.

“Do you not recognize me? Has it been that long?” Loki walked closer to you from behind.

You turned around because you had to see him to make sure you had heard right. When you saw him standing there, you felt overjoyed.

Loki was alive!

“Oh my god,” You could hardly believe your eyes.

Loki opened his arms wide, inviting you to a hug. Once the initial shock passed, you ran into his strong and loving arms. Loki embraced you just like you remembered he had done before. His oh-so-familiar scent filled your lungs and you were drunk on him in an instant. Tears stung your eyes and you closed them, allowing yourself to sink into his touch and be fully enveloped by him once again.

“I missed you so much,” You admitted and felt a warm tear rolling down your cheek, ruining your makeup but you didn’t care at all. Loki had seen you, all of you. With him, you could be completely vulnerable.

Loki planted a kiss at the top of your head, then your forehead and the tip of your nose. His soft hands cupped your cheeks and you opened your eyes just to face him. His eyes were mesmerizing and dangerous. With just one glance, you were lost.

“I missed you too,” Loki let you know sincerely. You didn’t know where he had been, or why you had been separated. All you knew was that it had been years and now you were together again. That was all that mattered and you refused to think about the logic of it all. It felt like you could hope again. You could be happy.

A gentle breeze played with your skirt and with your hair. Loki looked like a god as he stood there in his black suit and tie, with his long dark locks swaying in the wind. Your heart was so full of love again and you felt happy, so happy that you kissed him.

Your lips collided sweetly and Loki kissed you back with such fiery passion that you felt as if your soul was on fire. The kiss was so romantic that you knew if a crowd would’ve been watching, they would’ve aww-ed. It would’ve brought people to tears.

Eventually, you had to break the kiss so you could breathe. Once you did, both of you smiled like never before. Loki couldn’t let go of you and you didn’t want to let go of him either.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Loki proposed happily.

Home.

The word made your heart swell with affection.

“I’d love that,” You admitted, your mind already thinking about all the possibilities. You shared a home and you could spend the rest of your lives there together. You could have your own little family. Nothing could come between you ever again.

Loki offered you his arm for you to hold onto, which you gladly did. Together you turned away from Wanda and Vision’s home and began to walk to your own home. Somehow, you knew exactly where to go, like you had walked that path a million times before.

The walk was so relaxing. You and Loki held onto each other so comfortably and watched your neighbours, greeting them as you passed by. Everything seemed so peaceful; perfect. It was exactly where you wanted to be for all the rest of your days.

“So where were you all this time?” You asked Loki curiously. After all, he had been gone for a while now. As you tried to think about it, you felt distracted by his touch and just the sight of him. It was almost like something didn’t want you to poke your brain with a stick, so you tried not to get yourself puzzled.

Loki raised his eyebrows and hummed by himself, as if he had to really think about it in order to remember, “It’s a long story, my love. One I’ll tell you all about once we’re home. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great dinner topic,” You hinted at him. Dining together was always the highlight of your day.

It didn’t take long to walk from Wanda’s house to yours. After all, you lived on the same street. Your home was beautiful. It was spacious, so you and Loki wouldn’t outgrow it anytime soon.

Loki let go of you and he rushed to open the front door to you. “Ladies first,” He smirked to you and then looked inside.

“You’re such a gentleman,” You couldn’t help but to feel appreciated. Loki treated you like a queen, he always had. Then you walked inside.

Your eyes adjusted from the brightness outside to the dim lights inside. Loki closed the door and then you were both home. The place reflected the two of you so well, in every little detail. Someone had lit the fireplace when you were gone and you assumed it was Loki’s doing. Now that you were behind closed doors, you could use your powers without being seen.

“Did you-” Your sentence was cut short as you turned to face Loki again. He was standing behind you with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. The sweet gesture took you by surprise and you forgot what you were going to ask.

“I know it isn’t much, but I want to make up for the time we lost. I hope this is the right path to your heart again, my love,” Loki explained as he handed the gifts to you, which you gladly accepted.

“Oh Loki, thank you,” You were moved by the gesture. “But I need you to know you’ve always been in my heart, and you always will be.”

Loki seemed relieved to hear those words, “as will you be in mine.”

Ding!

“What was that?” You were surprised by the sound that came from the kitchen.

Loki grabbed your empty hand and placed a soft kiss on your skin, “I do believe you mentioned something about dinner.”

Yet another surprise.

“When did you do that?” You were impressed by it all. He had really gone out of his way to make this day lovely - and you certainly weren’t complaining.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Loki replied with a grin and began to lead to you the dining room. You shouldn’t have expected any less from your husband.

“How very sneaky of you,” You rolled your eyes playfully. That’s when you noticed the lovely aroma in the air. Dinner smelled lovely and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Had he made your favourite?

Loki pulled a chair back for you to sit on. As you sat down, the plates, the food and all that appeared on the table out of nowhere just like magic. Yet another trick, one that was very useful too.

Your eyes followed Loki as he walked around the table and sat down opposite of you. Just then, the setting sun shone through the curtains. It brightened up the room beautifully and highlighted every beautiful aspect of Loki, especially his eyes. The sun was shining on you and dinner was ready.

“One more thing,” Loki remembered and quickly snapped his fingers, lighting the candles to set the mood, “now everything is perfect.”

He was right. Finally, the two of you were together under the roof of your home. What else could you have ever wished for?

“Perfect indeed.”

A/N: I hope you liked it! If you did, I would love to hear your feedback 🥺 I loved this concept so much that I want to write more, but for now I’ll keep this one short.

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14

Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki fanfiction #WandaVision #WandaVision Spoilers #Loki angst #Loki fluff #Loki/Y/N #Loki/You #Loki/Reader #Loki oneshot #marvel fanfiction

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Pocket Watch - Levi Ackerman x Reader

A/N: I forgot to mention this! You are Erwin’s sister in this, but that doesn’t have to mean you are his biological sister! Feel free to interpret this fic in any way that you would like <3

WARNINGS: Angst, swearing, S3 spoilers, ends in fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

It was dark outside, and it was pouring rain too. Even through the thick layer of glass that served as a window, you could hear the wind whipping with the storm and smattering the raindrops against the buildings. On the inside, where you were currently, was quite the contrast though. There was not a sound to be heard inside your quarters. The fire that once crackled in the brick laid fireplace had long since burned out and you hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch - your eyes still trained on the charred wood that once harbored a flame. You hadn’t bothered to check the little pocket watch that had been shoved into your pocket earlier that day - you were quite sure that it would tell you it was far past your bedtime, but you just couldn’t bear to see the familiar golden thing.

First it was your father’s, but then he was killed, so it was passed onto your older brother. Erwin. He held it and kept it close to him with pride every day since then, making note to polish it on a regular basis so that its glint always shone strongly. Now it was covered in his blood. It was probably dry now, possibly even caked to the little clasp so that it couldn’t open properly anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash it off. You refused to even touch it. That moment when you saw the new cadet, you think his name was Floch, bring him upon that disheveled roof caused you to go silent. Your movements ceased as you watched your brother take labored breaths… dying. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the young members of the 104th division, Mikasa Ackerman and Eren Yeager, take a sharp inhale as they held their own dying friend. It was clear to anyone, that when the man holding the syringe that would grant life paused, an internal battle started to wage war in his mind. You don’t remember much - it was as if you were in a comatose state. All you know was that Erwin, your now dying big brother, reached into his breast pocket with what strength he had left, and shoved his little watch into your own. After that… a blur.

A quiet knock sounded on that measly wooden door that separated your office and adjoining bedroom from the rest of the building. You remain quiet. If they truly needed something, and were composed enough to talk to the girl who’s older brother just died, then they would come in without asking questions anyways. And that they did. The door creaked a bit and more light filtered into your office space through the opening, but went away just as quickly as it was closed. Footsteps made their way over to you and the person’s shadow was soon cast over you.

“Have you moved at all?” The voice was smooth and sullen. They knew the answer to the question as soon as they asked, you figured, but nonetheless it was spoken. As much as you thought you could answer, no words were able to be formed, much less a simple squeak. You simply opted to shake your head. With a sigh, they sat down next to you.“Have you eaten?” Another shake of the head. “Bathed?” You began to feel that your head would be moving like this forever if they kept asking you these questions. There was a beat of silence that passed through the two of you before they cupped your chin with their hand, rather roughly you might add, and wrenched your head so that it was looking at theirs. As soon as your Y/E/C eyes met his silver irises, you felt your body begin to thaw a little. Levi.

“My pocket,” you murmur, earning a confused expression from him.

“What about your pocket,” he says simply, his voice as gruff as ever. You come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to bend to your wants, so you shakily reach your hand and grab Erwin’s pocket watch and drop it into Levi’s hands. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t recoil as the blood-caked watch meets his skin. Instead, he looks at it and then back up to you.

“Please take it.” Levi is quick to refuse.

“No. It’s yours, he gave it to you.”

“He would hate for it to be dirty, and we both know that you have a knack for cleanliness,” you quip, no humor present in your eyes. Levi huffs and takes out a little handkerchief and begins to gently rub away the dried blood.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. You stay still but your eyes go back to the charred log of wood.

“Levi,” you start but he is quick to interrupt.

“Y/N, I’m the one who killed him and now you’re giving me his prized possession. That makes me feel like an asshole.” He says, scowling to himself. As blunt as his words were, you knew he was hurting. Hurting like he was when his old friends were killed.

“You’re an asshole but not for what happened.” You say. “I… I don’t remember what he said.” You feel your eyes begin to well with tears. Why couldn’t you have cracked in private? Why did he have to be here?

“You mean before he…” Levi started, earning a nod from you. He didn’t know what Erwin had said either, letting silence grace the room.

“What happens when I forget?” You confess shakily, finally letting your eyes meet his again. Levi stops his movements and lets the pocket watch rest on the handkerchief, carefully placing it on the low coffee table in front of the two of you. “What happens when I forget what his face looked like, or what his voice used to sound like.” The tears finally broke from their prison and began to rush down your cheeks. Wordlessly, Levi brought you into his arms. Your cries became vocal now as you let everything out. No longer were you just the shell of yourself - no, you were now revealing it all to Levi. Your head fell onto his strong shoulder as your hands grasped onto his shirt, sobbing.

He could hear his heart break. Of course he was absolutely devastated at seeing Erwin, one of his closest confidants and last remaining friends meet his end, but to see you like this was a strike to his soul. You were like sunshine on a rainy day, as cliche as that might sound - always there to brighten his spirits on gruelling days when he was annoyed with everyone else. Now it seemed like you were one of those gray clouds up in the sky, void of the cheer you used to possess. He held you tighter and laid his chin on the top of your head. Levi felt his shoulder begin to grow damp but he didn’t care. Nor did he mind the fact that your dirt and mud stained hands were grabbing onto his pristine and newly laundered white shirt, surely making it dirty once more. Your cries began to die down a bit, now just shaky whimpers escaping your mouth. He presses a soft kiss onto your hair and moves his hands so that they’re cradling you.

“I’m gonna lift you up, ‘kay?” He mumbles. He feels your nods against his chest and stands, walking you over to your bedroom. You’re just sniffling now as he sets you down on your bed and starts to rummage through your clothing drawer, throwing you a new set of sleepwear along with a pair of clean panties. Much to your better judgement and current state of grief, you bark out a laugh. Levi turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed, thinking you’ve gone mad now. You raise your hands up in defense and shake your head, a small smile crossing your face.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… he would be fucking furious if he knew you were touching my panties.” You couldn’t help it now, you were snickering as you grabbed the fresh set of clothes. He gives you a deadpanned look, sighs, and walks out of your room.

“Just change, you brat.” He says, clearly tired. You slowly peel your uniform off of your body and let it pool on the floor. Stepping into the clean clothes slowly, you exhale and slump onto the bed and close your eyes.

“Okay,” you call softly. You see Levi step back in and make his way over to the side of your bed. He looks down at you, an unknown emotion swimming in his eyes.

“When the nightmares start, just knock. Doesn’t matter what time.” He says simply.

“How do you know they’ll start?” You inquire.

“They always do.” He murmurs, closing his eyes for a second. An unspoken agreement becomes solidified between the two of you as you hold his gaze. He gives you a nod before he leans down and gives you a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And what about this?” You ask, motioning between the two of you. Levi’s face remains neutral as he steps away.

“A conversation for another day.” You see his figure walk out of your room and into the office space.

“You keep that safe,” you say, regarding the pocket watch, “and clean.”

“Go to sleep, brat.” Levi calls back.

Just like Levi had predicted the nightmares did come, and didn’t stop for weeks on end. Both you and him had them about Erwin, and both you and him knocked on each other's doors when they came. But, whenever it happened, Levi pulled out the pocket watch so that you and him could listen to the faint ticking, letting you know that he would be with you, always. Although, he might not be as fond to know that you were all wrapped up in the captain’s arms.

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

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ᝰ 03:10 AM — choi beomgyu

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre: angst, comfort, best friend!beomgyu. wc: 725. warnings: mentions of blood (implied), reader is in a bad mental space. an: self-indulgent, poorly written and not proofread lmfao.

silvery beams of moonlight poured into the room, through the window swinging on it’s hinge and the curtains flailing in the breeze, painting a bleak, eerie picture. the light crept up onto your skin, highlighting your crouched over figure tucked into the tight space between the bed and the windowsill. back against the bedside table, atop which the telephone off it’s hook lie, broken shards of glass are scattered by your feet. one such shard, gripped between your fingers.

I can’t. I shouldn’t.

I want to.

there is a loud BANG! and the floor trembles as feet slam against the wooden planks.

they search for the light switch, but beomgyu doesn’t need it to find you. he’d already made a dash for you the minute they’d pried the door open. his breathing erratic and tears rimming his eyes, he manages to stop himself at the cracking sounds from under his feet. sniffling, he lifts his feet and his eyes follow the trail before they meet with the soil on the carpet below your hand. his chest pushes and pulls as he chokes back his sobs.

the steps toward you were few, but slow – as if he were afraid that one fibre out of place would make you slip through his fingers forever – and then he fell to his knees, hot torrents of grief coursing down his face. he froze when he slipped the glass from your hand with ease, heart-rate quickening at your lack of movement.

“(y/n).” he whispers, fear unsteadying his voice.

no words could ever describe the relief he felt when you lifted your head to look at him; puffy eyes, flushed cheeks, mascara-streaked face – the most ethereal being he had ever seen, through and through.

he pulls you into his chest and for the first time since playing your voicemail, he breathes. his warmth forces away the thick layer of desensitization you had built up after a night of screaming, crying and destructive thoughts – and you cry. and you cry. and you cry.

“beomgyu,” you croak, voice hoarse and lethargic, tears soaking into his hoodie. he hums in response and kisses the top of your ear, continuing to rub circles into your back. “why is it so hard to do things...to say you want them...even when you really, really want them?”

he remains quiet for a moment. then he helps you up and seats you on the bed. there is confusion swimming in your eyes as he tucks the messy strands of hair behind your ears and smiles to himself as he brushes the make-up smudges from your cheeks. When his eyes meet with yours again they pierce right through them, as if uncovering your soul before him.

“sometimes we’re scared. scared of feeling the probable disappointment and hurt that awaits on the other side of things not working out,” he says, sitting down beside you before taking your hand into his. for the first time, you realize the other members are there too; they look at you will sad smiles and tear-stained cheeks.

“but,” beomgyu says, gently turning your face to his, with little to no space in between, eyes flitting to your lips, “if we don’t take that leap, if we don’t take the chance – whether it’s to bask in glory, or to deal with the disappointment until we’re ready to get back up again – wouldn’t we end up regretting it forever?”

“i’m sorry.” you choke, “i’m sorry for worrying you and for being dramatic.”

“yah!” yeonjun yells from behind you, and you turn to face the boys once more, only to find them running toward you with open arms.

you can’t help but giggle when they trap you in a massive hug, yelling at you to not scare them like that anymore.

“(y/n), we love you, please talk to us when you’re ready. Okay?”

“(y/n), it’s not because i refused to give you that plushie is it?”

“(y/n), it’s yeonjun-hyung’s fault, isn’t it?”

“yah, choi soobin!”

beomgyu chuckles as he watches the scene unfold in front of him, grateful for the friendship and love the members share with you – even if it was suffocating you with tender embraces.

ready to take a leap of his own, he shoved the mass from your figure possessed with uncontrollable laughter and yelled, “back off peasants, this one’s mine!”

and as startled as you were to hear it, it wasn’t something you needed to hear.

after all, your heart had already sworn itself to choi beomgyu years ago.

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danniburgh · 3 years

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Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 21

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.9k

Chapter warnings: uhm, this chapter is Javier’s perspective ehehe, so, beware fo feelings

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode ten. // again, i am really fucking sorry, but we are ALMOST DONE OMG, also i wanna say thanks to my official cheerleaders @queenofthefaceless and @maharani-radha-writes that helped me a lot and @alliterative-albatross that made me feel sure of some of the ideas i had for this chapter, i love you lots, guys. While proof reading this chapter for the first time i understood why it was the hardest to write, it was because i had just to strip myself naked and understand more of Javier Peña as i had built him... i just... im not quite pleased with the second half of this, but i know its needed.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @javier-pena (thank you so much for making this when i needed it the most, ily)

The air weighed on his chest; he felt his lungs struggling to find air; as he drove home, he felt his heart pounding hard and fast, as if it wanted to rip out of his chest and run and hide and die.

As if his heart wanted the same he did.

Javier couldn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even try to close his eyes after climbing into bed.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

Jesus Christ.

His mind was reeling, he couldn’t stop replaying every single thing you told him in his mind.

“My name is not Florencia Martín”

“A precarious situation”

“Another Los Pepes scenario”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He wanted to crawl into a deep hole and bury himself to stop his body from feeling.

Javier cringed deeply when he remembered he had told you he had fallen in love with you without even thinking about it.

That certainly wasn’t the way you were supposed to find out.

He guessed, while tossing around on his bed, on the same sheets that still smelled like you, that he had it coming. He probably deserved it. But that didn’t make him feel any better, it stung.

It burned.

Javier had stripped himself naked for you, more than just his body, he had let you see him; he had let you touch him; he had let you read him; he had let you know him.

He had let himself feel and… he had let himself think he deserved something good.

He felt like such an idiot, stupid and embarrassed because there you had been… Standing in front of him, in a place he thought it would become something close to his fortress, breaking him. And he let you.

God. He had known you for less than six months, and yet he let you have power over him. All that power to make him whatever you wanted. He had handed you a sledgehammer and his heart and soul on a porcelain platter for you to shatter.

And he just took it.

Javier huffed at his own thoughts while his eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He was an idiot, wasn’t he? Having let himself feel all those things he had been so beware of for a woman he never really knew.

What else was fake about you?

He felt that sting, known and oh so foreign clench in his throat and he fought it. He fought it hard. Why was he feeling like that?

“A precarious situation”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, clenching his jaw so tight his face started trembling.

He had to unclench it so he could open his mouth and gasp for air because his lungs were tightening in his chest and he knew he just had to let go. He shook his head to nothing and fought it again. He would not break. He couldn’t.

But then he remembered he was all alone. Just him and his mind and... he stopped fighting for the first time in years and allowed his feelings to pour down from his eyes.

Javier clenched his jaw again as he felt the thick, years old tears pouring and pouring, clouding his sight, flooding his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered to nothing, resting his face on his hand and his arm on his knee, his chest struggling with the silent sobs he was drowning in.

Javier cried for around an hour.

He allowed himself to cry, to cry for you, because if he had allowed himself to fall in love with you and he had allowed you to wield power over him, he deserved a chance to fall apart as well.

He had earned it.

His tears of grief and pain became tears of anger and pain.

He was so angry; at himself, because, thinking again about everything you had told him, you had said something right; he had dragged you into having whatever the hell you two had. He had kissed you and practically turned your wrist into starting something with him only, and just only because he felt lonely. Because he felt like maybe, for the first time in decades, he could have something good. Because he felt like maybe it was time for him to love and be loved again when, in reality, he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone.

He had let himself believe you could be something else, less complicated. But how wrong he was… Him? Loved? As if. Him? In Colombia? Laughable.

That country… It became more than clear how much he had lost by going down there.

He huffed again in between tears at how it took a massive hit to the heart for him to realize how much he had lost in the years he had been there.

He was so angry; at the system. The fucking system that forced you and him into taking assignments you didn’t deserve to take. There wasn’t another moment he hated more right then, than the moment he had said yes to returning to Colombia. His dad was right, he didn’t like what he found. And it truly changed him before he could change it. How he wanted to have listened to him, how he wanted to not be the stubborn ass he was and just… said no.

And you? You had taken an assignment that promised unreachable things, one that forced you into turning into a liar, one that didn’t let you be yourself.

Fuck, was he really trying to find justifications for what you did even though you had broken him in pieces?

He was so angry; at you. For lying to him and from dropping the facade, for taking off the mask that he had rushed to love, for thinking he deserved the truth instead of you leaving once everything was over. He thought it would have hurt less if you had just… disappeared.

He wouldn’t be crying at three in the morning on his bed if you had just vanished into thin air.

Javier remembered seeing the hope in your eyes when you were telling him the truth, who you really were, he saw it and he wanted to tell you he forgave you. But neither of you deserved something that good.

He was sure it all was some kind of karma. A penance for all his sins, a way too high price he had to pay for all the shit he had done.

He realized then, while sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, the same one he had shared with you for nights that felt burned into his memory, that you and him weren’t so different.

That you two had more in common than he had first thought. That you, as he had said to you before, when you were still wrapped around his arms on that same bed, were a person who was willing to do anything for a greater cause. That you as well were capable of doing anything if you thought it did good, that you also were capable of sacrifice, of losing everything as long as you were doing what you thought was the right thing.

And you had told him, as you cried your eyes out in front of him, facing him and facing and taking all the repercussions of your actions, that you really thought it was the right thing to do.

The realization was truly bittersweet. He didn’t like that even when you had broken his heart and stepped on the pieces as you walked out, he still understood why you did it.

After that despaired, miserable night, he decided he was done bringing you to the front of his mind, so he shoved all the memories of you and tried to repress them in the back of his head along with countless others he didn’t rather to address.

The next day he stepped into the office with less than half an hour of sleep he had seemed to catch while condemning himself in the solitude of his room and avoided looking at your still cluttered desk. Full of you.

He ignored Stoddard when he asked him where you were as he stepped out of the office to head to Cali an hour later and while the elevator brought him down to the lobby he tried to drown the way the mention of your fake name made him feel.

That morning you walked directly to the CIA office, every step you gave into the embassy hurt in your body, mind and soul as if each one had a dagger embedded deeply and an invisible hand was twisting each dagger deeper. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. You entered, unannounced, into Stechner’s office, not even trying to hide the enormous amount of pain you were going through. You were tired of hiding things.

“Ah, my favorite DEA agent,” Stechner said when he saw you walk in “well, not anymore, I guess.” he smirked and you felt his gaze linger on your body, shamelessly.

“Let’s just get this over with.” you muttered, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Oh, this is more than over, alright?” the man leaned back on his chair and reached a manila folder that rested on top of others on his desk and raised it so you could see it “resignation, what a word,” he said, putting the folder back on the desk, opening the folder and taking the sole sheet of paper on his hand “really? after you failed almost epically?” Stechner smiled humorlessly and took your resignation letter in both hands and… ripped it in half.

You drowned a gasp.

“You have a flight to Washington today at noon.” he let out softly, feigning a comprehensive tone.

“Of course I do.” you mumbled, dropping your arms to the sides, feeling your eyes flood with tears as you saw him tossing the parts of your resignation letter in the trash can.

You blinked the tears away and quietly took a deep breath, halfway achieving a fake sense of stability you had fed yourself since the night before.

What were you thinking, after everything you did they would have let you get off easy? Of course not you silly girl.

“Oh, honey, you need a hug?” Stechner asked with a teasing gaze and a fake tone of worry “I bet breaking up with Peña really did something on you, you look like a mess”

You tightened your jaw and rolled your hands into fists, Stechner noticed, and his mocking face dropped.

“Anything else?” you asked him, voice hardened, with your eyes staring right into his, admonishing him, warning him. He knew what you were capable of, you knew he did.

He shook his head twice, and you lifted your chin up.

“I really wish you the best, sweetie.” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his desk and trying to ignore the way your face turned into a scowl at the endearment.

“No, you don’t, you fucker,” you all but growled wanting nothing more than to erase that seemingly permanent smirk off his face that grew after he raised his head to look at you “you’re happy that I’m getting out of here like this,” you chuckled bitterly “you wanted this to happen, I hope you’re satisfied.” you let out all the venom you had been keeping inside you for that man in the last sentence you spat to him.

“You’re right, but I won’t say it,” he tutted and shook his head slowly “you really cost us a lot, sweetheart,” he mumbled and you were sure you were about to spit foam from the rage inside you “I hope you know that.”

You sighed and smiled bitterly at the man. Ever so fucking disgusting. For the first time in your life, you wanted something bad to happen to someone. And you didn’t regret it.

“I won’t ever forget it.” you spat at him in a soft voice that made him glare at you with a serious face.

You turned around and walked out of his office, leaving the door open, feeling his stare on your back.

Feeling, then more than ever, the insides of your mind finishing crashing down. Finally broken. Fully broken.

You walked towards the elevator and pushed the lobby button, hoping to dissolve in the way, hoping the elevator floor would just break and the void swallowed you and your body crashed against the concrete floor of the second basement.

But instead, the doors opened on the DEA floor and Stoddard stepped inside, shooting you a concerned smile as the doors closed.

“Hi, Florencia,” he looked at you and you tried to give him a smile, knowing you failed “you okay?” he asked, you blinked a few times before looking at him. He pushed his glasses up.

“Yeah!” you let out in a squeal “just peachy.” you drifted your eyes away and sighed again.

“I… thought you were in Cali.” Stoddard let out after a few seconds, you turned to see him with your brow furrowed.

“Cali?”

“Well… yeah,” he shrugged “the boss and the guys went back to Cali this morning.”

You let out a sigh, of both relief and worry.

“Oh,” you said under your breath “no, I…” you shook your head and tried to smile at him again and failed, this time he noticed “I needed to take care of something else.”

“I see,” he mumbled, the elevator doors opened and you stepped out “you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking at you, you nodded several times.

“Yeah, Stod,” you assured him, trying to make him believe it, not quite sure if you believed yourself “I’m fine.”

Stoddard nodded at you as the elevator doors closed and you waved him once goodbye. Knowing it would be the last time. You walked out of the embassy in complete and utter shame, and some part inside you screamed that you deserved it.

Javier rescued another witness that day, because he still wanted to do something right even though he didn’t feel right himself.

But then, after sending Guillermo Pallomari to Miami, he had to return to his office. That place he had thought was his fortress, and then it was turned into… a dungeon.

He didn’t ignore your cluttered desk this time; he was alone in the office, there was no one that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

A steel cup filled with different colored pens and only red markers, a pile of unsigned DEA reports, in one of the drawers a block of sticky notes running low, the same ones you made notes on and stuck on files when you reviewed them and that Javier hated to see because they were just so fucking bright, your red coffee cup you used when you didn’t have time to grab some at his house because he just kept kissing you until you both were late, which didn't happen at your place because Javier always woke up before you and started the coffee machine, a gun holster you hated to use because it just never clutched the way you wanted to your jeans and a small, brown journal he had never seen before and that he took because there wasn’t anyone that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

He hesitated for a moment to open the journal, unsure of himself or of what he would find. The first page had your initials, your real initials written on the far left corner and just a list of names he didn’t recognize, next a few scribbles and a phone number. Javier skimmed through the pages and around the middle he found his name. Written in your pretty handwriting, with a few numbers underneath that looked dangerously close to file codes.

He snapped the journal closed and left it where he found it. He shouldn’t have looked.

In his office he found all the documents you had risked so much to gather and all the intel you just handed to him, pretty much as he had handed you his heart.

Javier let out a sigh and grabbed the folders, sitting behind the desk and opening the first one.

He re-read every single piece of information until his eyes stung from the exhaustion, or the cigarette smoke, or maybe more unshed tears he was once again fighting so hard to keep inside him.

Tears of sadness, it was a given. But also anger, and frustration and pain, and, as a bucket of freezing cold water, years of regrets fell on him.

Javier had tried, had tried hard to bury all that shit in some far, deep corner of his mind, as he had tried to bury you and all his memories of the last four? five? months. He really did. But at that moment, sheltered inside an office that didn’t feel like his anymore, past midnight, alone and so damn vulnerable, it all rose to the surface and he found himself drowning inside a sea of his own mistakes and past sins.

It was unbearable to stay there. So he grabbed the files that felt like burning in his hands and took off.

And so, Javier went back to an empty apartment that even though had been his for a long time, felt emptier than it had ever felt without you and reminded him only of you.

Why had he allowed his house to become a fucking shrine to the time you had spent there?

Everytime he looked at everything, from the fucking lamp at the corner of the end table to the damn waterbottle you left the last morning you were there on his kitchen counter, an image of you invaded his mind. Like a suffocating wildfire, spreading with the simplest blow of the wind. Covering him, trapping him, burning him and turning him into ashes.

That night he drank almost all the alcohol he had left in his house and even then, with his body full of booze, his intoxicated mind all the time returned to you. To your face, to your eyes and that color that was so common yet somehow looked so unique, to your voice and how you called his name either on a whisper or on a scold, to your smile and how apparently you had one only for him, to your hands and how you used them one night to touch him and the next morning to grip a gun, to how you drove him crazy from the very beginning. Fuck, he loved you. And he hated you all the same.

You gave him your resignation letter, you had left a job you claimed you loved so much that you had taken on something that did you so much wrong. You quit because of what they made you do, and probably, just probably, he had to do the same. Because of what they did to him.

Was it worth it? Everything he did… Was it worth something? Anything?

He thought again of everything he had done in the past decade and felt sick at what his brain was showing him. It really wasn’t.

The idea of doing something good, doing something that could give him a little peace invaded his mind and he spent half the night thinking of something he could do to finally, finally feel like he was helping.

The next morning he found himself sitting in the conference room with Crosby hovering around him. He huffed at himself, sitting there as if there was nothing wrong going around, with the ambassador looking at him with his ever so present judgemental smirk, as if he wasn't just pieces of a man that put himself together with the weakest glue when he got dressed that morning with less than two hours of sleep after being trapped inside his house that smelled like you with nothing but alcohol and time to think. His pop was right, they did something to him in that country. He just didn’t know what.

“Y’know how many times I’ve gotten a call from the Department of Justice and State the same morning?” Crosby rhetored, Javier looked at him, already tired of the lecture he was about to get “count ‘em on one finger, guess we have you to thank for that.”

Javier dropped his eyes to the oak table in front of him and absentmindedly tried to draw a pattern with the tip of his finger while half listening to Crosby telling him about his meeting with the Colombian president to demand that the gentlemen of Cali stayed in jail. He looked back at his boss and after half a second of pondering he told him he had a draft indictment of the president’s ties with the cartel, omitting the part of the story where he had drafted it half drunk the night before. And of course Crosby laughed at it.

Javier huffed again at himself when Crosby suggested he kept the draft to himself and he felt his blood starting to boil. He sighed and fought the urge to stand up and leave. What was he thinking? That a man like Crosby would back up a man like him? Just like that? What a naïve thought.

“The DOJ’s not gonna topple a government, Agent Peña,” the ambassador told him, obviating the statement, Javier felt his chest turn “you can’t tell me you’re surprised by that.”

“Some part of me was holding out hope, I guess.” he muttered to Crosby, who walked around the table and stood next to him, Javier didn’t even bother to hide his face from him, god how tired he was of hiding.

“Well, you should tell that part to grow the fuck up,” Crosby spat and Javier drowned a bitter chuckle “no, I mean it, Agent Peña, you should be happy,” the ambassador said and Javier frowned at the man “you played the system like a goddamn fiddle, you won.”

Javier opened his mouth to rebut the statement but Crosby just walked behind his chair and left the room, leaving him with the word in his mouth.

He felt his stomach toss in disgust, at his boss, at his job, at himself. Fuck that.

“Yes, sir.” he mumbled under his breath.

Did he really win something? The job that helped him escape from everything, the one at some point of his life felt like a dream, had become a nightmare. The woman he grew to love, after years and years of not feeling that, barely got out of there alive and the name he had whispered in extasis wasn’t even hers. Everything he had once believed in was melting away like wax on a candle and being washed away by a sea of regret, desolation and anger.

Did he really win something when he had lost everything? He had even lost himself in the process of what he and everyone around him had called a once in a lifetime opportunity to end a War that was so familiar to him it almost sat at the table on Thanksgiving with him and his dad.

And when he got out of the conference room, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the idea of following your steps and quit became a lot more attractive to him.

So he went back to his empty home filled with your memories, resigned that he wouldn’t sleep much that night either, and stood in the middle of the living room, not knowing why he felt like a visitor in his own house, chain smoking, thinking about everything just because he wanted to stop thinking about you.

Javier walked to his window and dwindled himself to watch the cars down the street pass, the city was so unaware of everything. The country was so unaware of how it was being torn apart by the same people that were elected to take care of it. And he was so fucking angry, at everything and everyone, at himself. And so tired. Exhausted.

The phone rang behind him and he didn’t even flinch at the sound, even when practically no one called his house phone. He just let the machine get it.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…” he stiffened in place when he heard your voice and turned his head to eye the cradle “I know you probably don’t wanna listen to me right now but…” you sounded small, your voice sounded thin, Javier turned around and walked towards the phone “uhm, I wanted to apologize again and…” he felt like he couldn’t think, his mind was filled with your voice as if it were a fog that clouded his vision, he wanted to pick the phone up, he wanted to ask you where you were and tell you to come home to him, but his brain wasn’t letting him “I–I’m in Washington and I tho–thought…” his eyes closed on themselves when he heard you sigh and choke down a sob “forget it, uhm, I just… fuck…”

Javier looked at the phone, the sound of static still there, he pondered if he should just swallow his anger and his newfound pride and just pick up.

“I think someone will contact you about this and I just wanted to let you know I–I didn’t tell them anything about... us…” he heard you chuckle softly and he just stood there, rolling his hands into fists, waiting for you to say something else, “I’m sorry, Javi, uhm… I really think I did the right thing by telling you, I’m just sorry it had to be like this…” you sniffed on the phone and Javier sighed, “I guess I also wanted, uhm, to hear your voice… shit.” he closed his eyes and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” he said and gripped the receiver when the sound of the cut line replied to him.

Javier threw the receiver on the floor and sat on the couch, cursing at himself for his weakness and his hesitation altogether.

He rested his head on his hands while thinking on the few things you had said, if you were in Washington talking to the directives that meant they didn’t let you resign, that meant they were firing you. And you called him to let him know his involvement was minimal, because still after everything you were trying to divert the backlash from him.

God how he was tired.

That’s when he decided, he was going to do it. Not only for what you had made him feel, but because he just needed to leave back all the baggage he had been carrying with him for almost a decade. He needed to let go. He knew it, he needed to free himself of something that turned him entirely into a different person that wasn't even close to what he had been before, because no one else would do it for him.

And he had nothing else to lose. Absolutely nothing.

Once that thought occupied his mind, he finally could lay down on the couch and sleep.

The next morning Javier just re-dressed and called his journalist contact, he had decided, in his pre-sleep haze, that he was just gonna tell the truth. To everyone.

Just as you did with him, he was going to use all the information you had given to him to redeem yourself of your own baggage to get rid of some of his.

Even when he didn’t want to think of you, you were still helping him.

And the truth went out as he told it, and he let himself out of the whole situation by following your steps.

Until the ambassador called him into his office later that day and that time… Javier felt like he could tell the man absolutely anything.

He had nothing else to lose.

When he walked into the office Crosby was watching the news about his little interview. Javier walked and sat in across from him, feeling something that looked like freedom. But his mind was still reeling with guilt and loss.

“You didn’t really call the country that we’re guests in a narco democracy.” Crosby asked without asking, Javier looked at the man and shook his head once.

“Are you sayin’ that it isn’t?” he replied, looking at the ambassador tightening his jaw.

“The state department’s livid.”

Javier nodded a few times.

“Good, they’re responsible,” he let out and shrugged slightly “we all are.”

“Samper is not going anywhere.” Crosby let him know, quite exasperated. Javier dropped his eyes to the man’s desk.

“Well, at least people know the truth.” he said, including himself in the sentence. No more lies.

Javier saw Crosby shake his head and study the four walls that surrounded them, and he caught himself wanting to read him like you would be able to.

“I want you gone, Peña,” the ambassador told him, Javier guessed so “so do the colombians.”

“I understand, sir.” Javier replied and Crosby said nothing else. He looked at the ambassador for a few seconds and saw also a shell of a man. He guesses that it wasn’t so much the job that took a person’s humanity, but the context in which they do it.

He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You know…” Crosby called, Javier turned around “any aspirations you had for your career just got dragged behind the barn and shot.”

Javier licked his lower lip and allowed himself to look intently at the ambassador, the man looked at him with something he thought was pity.

“I resigned from the DEA this morning.”

Crosby stood up straighter when he heard it, Javier said it almost solemnly, and saying it out loud not only made it more real, but it really made him feel light as a feather for the first time since he was a teenager when he walked out of the ambassador’s office for the last time in his life.

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fifteen - “but she couldn’t”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: bucky and y/n have their first therapy session after what happened a few days prior... things happen.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

He wrung his hands outside the door, nervous for what was to come. Bucky came alone now, no royal Wakandan guard to escort him. He had graduated past that precaution, with the help of Y/N's insistence. She was always advocating for him.

Ahead of him was the first therapy session after that night with the bonfire and then the leaning and then the pinky promise and—

He was anxious... to see her. To say the least. He wanted this to work, wanted his idea, their agreement to work. He wanted this to work because he didn't know what he was more afraid of: seeing her again or never seeing her again.

Frankly, he didn't care what their "professional boundaries" were. He just liked to be around her. Personal. Professional. It didn't really matter to him. He didn't care whether they sat across from each other on the therapy couches or if they were closer. Sitting on the floor... leaning...

Again, he didn't care. It was Y/N's worries that worried him.

Just go, idiot.

He knocked.

"Come in!"

Bucky was careful when he opened the door, almost as if he was trying not to frighten a timid animal. Her face was carrying a lot. Behind her eyes was an abundance of thoughts, worries, feelings, and more. He wasn't sure how he knew... he just did. He knew her.

He silently made his way to his couch, his side of the room. He felt so separate.

"Good morning," her voice was flat and controlled. Her tone was friendly and light, but still controlled; he could tell.

"Mornin,'" was all he said. He was apprehensive to interrupt what was so far in tact.

"Can I just start by apologizing for how I spoke to you the other day. About your arm and everything else. I was out of line. I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," he breathed, looking up at her. Yep, a lot of thoughts in there. "You weren't exactly wrong..."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't rude."

"I've already forgiven you... like two seconds after it happened. Don't worry about it."

Her eyebrows creased, face contorting into clear concern. "If it upset you, you can tell me. I don't want to let anything fester... please."

"I guess I have issues with the arm, but... not with you."

"Do you want to talk about that?"

Bucky exhaled. "What else are we here for, right?"

She gave him an encouraging look, as if to say go on. He got the hint.

"I just feel sort of incomplete. Having one arm is... strange. And I guess I never had to deal with it before, because Hydra gave me the cybernetic arm... Well more like attached it to me. It's not like I had a say."

"You lost your arm back on that train in the forties, and you never really got a chance to cope with that loss. It's a huge change for your body and mind to get used to, and it's completely understandable that you're having trouble with it."

"My body feels so off now. Everything I do I have to do differently, and it just makes it all so difficult."

"Are there things we need to fix for accessibility? I can talk to Shuri and-"

"No, it's fine," he was quick to deny any assistance. "I don't wanna complain."

"It's not complaining, Buck. If you need help, it's okay-"

"I don't want help. Everyone's always helpin' me. I don't need to ask for more."

"Bucky..."

"It's fine, I just... need to suck it up and deal."

"There's no reason to 'suck it up' when it's a problem that can be fixed," she offered.

His voice sunk to a whisper, guilt withering his confidence. "I'm sick of being everyone's problem."

Did he just say that? He wasn't sure he meant to. His feelings sort of leak out when he talks to her. Like it's easy. Like it's safe.

- - -

READER

She could feel her heart nearly rupture at his words and the broken cadence in his voice. She wanted to leap out of her seat, pull him close, and hold him until all the pieces stuck back into place. But she couldn't.

Oh, Bucky, she sighed sorrowfully in her head. She wanted to cup his face and tell him how he most definitely was not a problem. How he was wonderful and patient and trusting and kind and a thousand other things she never was. But she couldn't. It hurt to not be able to comfort him the way she felt she needed to do.

Instead, she took a deep breath, and said what she was supposed to say.

"That's a really hard thing to have on your mind, Bucky. I'm sorry. But I can promise you that we really are here to help you. And we want to. I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't feel, but please know that me or Shuri or anyone else - we don't think you're a problem."

He looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact and mumbling, "Thank you."

He didn't seem convinced. Her chest tightened. She wanted to do more. But she couldn't.

"I flew all the way from Europe to come help you. And I mean, I didn't know you then, but looking back now, I'm damn well glad I did."

"Yeah, but now you're away from home on another continent because of me."

"Bucky, I chose to come here. No one made me."

He put a hand on his forehead, fingers rubbing at his temples in tired frustration. Like he had been bullied by these thoughts for a while now. There had clearly been a lot going on with him that he hadn't told her. A part of her wanted to admonish him. She wanted to scold him for not letting her help. For not letting her erase any and all bad feelings.

"I can't-..." he sighed, voice helpless. "I can't even cut my own hair..."

She closed her eyes, feeling the pain radiating off of him.

"... can't even make myself feel human."

Y/N moved before she could think the better of it. She was in front of him before she even registered the movement. It was automatic, involuntary. Her body just had to get to him. Make it better. Make the hurt go away. Like a reflex. She felt chemicals with him; he was an instinct.

She knelt in front of his feet, looking up at his sitting figure still on the couch.

"Give me your hand."

He stared down at her, confused. "What?"

"Reach your arm out."

Reluctantly he obeyed.

Slowly, softly, delicately, she smoothed her hand over his and up his forearm. Starting at his fingers, moving over the center of his palm, and gliding up his wrist to then pivot her hand so that her fingers were on the underside of his forearm and her thumb settled a tender touch on his pulse point. (the gif!)

She tried to transfer every ounce of compassion into her touch in an attempt to fade his distress, his guilt, his pain. A physical way of expressing that, yes, someone did care about him. So, so deeply. Even if he didn't see it.

She exerted a slight amount of force on her thumb so that he could feel the pressure of his pulse.

"You feel that?"

He nodded.

"That's your heart beating. How profoundly human."

Then she splayed her hand over the top of his forearm.

"You feel the coolness in my hand?"

Again, he nodded.

"That's your body heat. How beautifully human."

Still with a hand on his skin, she moved up to sit next to him. She brought his hand up to his chest, pressing it flat up against the center of his rib cage and holding her hand on top.

"Can you feel that?"

"Mhm."

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

She looked into his eyes then, and he bore into her in a way she's only seen one or two times before. Their hands remained against each other, over his heart, when he spoke.

"I don't deserve this... deserve you..."

There was no hesitation. "You deserve everything good and then some."

She rubbed her thumb softly on the back on his hand, hoping to communicate the sentiment as lovingly as she could. She wanted him to know that he mattered.

"Even though I took you away from your home and your work and everything else... all for my stupid screwed up head."

"I don't... really have a home to go back to," she confessed. "Like, yes, I had a place to live, but.. not a home."

He almost chuckled. "Neither do I."

Maybe sometimes home was a person.

"You have people, though. Which is good. You know, Steve, Sam."

"You." His voice was soft.

It made her lungs almost contract. She could've sworn her cells began to heat up. God, she felt so much. Such strong ardency. You have me, she thought. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me. She wanted to say that. But she couldn't.

"Right. And I have you," she offered, trying to reciprocate the sentiment without pouring out the adoration that was in her head.

He stared at her, dead in the face like he was looking into her soul. With his entire chest he whispered like it was the only truth he'd ever known. "You have me."

His eyes were blue and his face was kind and then the back of her head felt warm like someone's hand was on it. His voice was soft and his heart was beating and then every nerve in her body ignited into flames because his lips were on hers. His lips were on hers and any semblance of control she might've had left burned up as she burned for him.

Slow and heavy, she melted into him. Parts of her found parts of him. Fingers softly curled at the nape of his neck, palm pressed up against his chest and feeling his heartbeat. On Bucky's chest, her hand was where his previously was. But now, his hand was cupping the back of her head and it was dizzying.

He tasted like rumination and benevolence and thank you. She moved her lips as if to pull out every inch of sorrow and grief and heartache and say I'm sorry. Sorry for all the things that happened to him that weren't good and gentle. For every hand that had hurt him; for all the hands that had touched him that weren't hers. But she couldn't. Oh god, she couldn't. What was she doing?

She pulled her head away even though it felt like a gravitational pull as strong as the sun's was keeping her there. In response to her movements, Bucky leaned back too. He removed his hand and suddenly she felt cold. No, she felt frozen. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I-I," she stammered, having no idea what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

She looked away from him, eyes anywhere but his. She stared to the side of the room.

"No, I-... I can't- we can't... this is-"

"I kissed you."

She avoided whatever that was the same way she avoided his gaze.

"This is transference," she declared, not even dignifying what he said.

"Huh?"

"Transference, it's- it's when a patient's feelings from something or someone else get redirected and projected towards their therapist. That's... that's what's happening here."

"It is?"

He didn't seem very convinced.

"Yes. It happens sometimes, it's not anyone's- ... it's okay."

"This is okay?"

"No!" she caught her breath. "No. The... action is not okay, but the fact that it happened isn't something to be faulted. It's not unheard of; it's a common phenomenon in therapy, so..."

She could feel him looking at her. She wished he'd stop. She felt like she might faint. Her lips were numb.

"So..."

"So, it just can't happen again. Okay? No one's in trouble. Let's just... be aware of the possible consequences of transference and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Y/N..."

She thought there might've been a slight inflection of fear in his voice.

"Yes?"

"Look at me... please."

She sighed and turned her head. Fuck. She wished she'd drown.

"Does this mean you're leaving?... or not leaving for that matter?"

His eyes were pleading, vulnerable, and scared. If she was honest, she wasn't sure she could leave him if she tried. In fact, a tiny repressed part of her mind wanted to stay with him forever. But she couldn't.

She reminded herself why she was here, and why they needed boundaries. But when reasoning with her inner logician, she wasn't sure leaving would even be the best option. It's not like Bucky needed more disruption in his life. He needed some sort of constant, something reliable and trustworthy. At least that's what Y/N told herself as she realized that if she left him with that look in his eye, she could never forgive herself.

"No, I don't... I don't have to leave. As long as we make sure that doesn't happen again."

Relief visibly flooded his face. "Okay... okay, good."

Seeing his worry wane was alleviating. Though, she wished she could do more. She wished his hand was still on the back of her head, and her hand was still on his chest. She wished she could rewind back to that moment and just sit within it for a bit longer.

But she couldn't.

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mkakki · 3 years

Text

Stay

I've got a thing for the quiet introverted boys o(╥﹏╥)o

At least I don't have to suffer alone in this hell

Choso, your sweet pigtails make me happy.

Disclaimer: manga spoilers, maybe some swearing I dunno. I'm feelin sappy and I need comfort.

He knew you were still reeling, still trying to wipe the devastation clear of your mind, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't like humans, let alone a Jujutsu Sorcerer, showed him any form of kindness. He was a curse, so it was natural that his thoughts remained selfish, right? It was normal for him to watch you with hooded eyes, jaw clenched, while you tried to make everyone believe that you were okay. While he wanted to commend you for your strength and mental fortitude, it left a rather bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe that was the curse within his soul speaking.

You had lost nearly everything in Shibuya.

He never knew much about Nanami Kento, just that the man was someone important to you. Yuji had explained that Nanami was his mentor, but before that he was yours. Even if the man was rather distant and indifferent, there had been a repertoire built up between the two of you. If anything, Yuji had been a tad bit envious that you had been able to earn high praise from the older man. Apparently you had been orphaned as a child, and taken in by the Tokyo branch of Jujutsu High, raised and immersed in a culture Choso couldn't help but think didn't fit you so well.

Watching the way you were so close to crumbling now made that apparent. It was subtle, and if he wasn't watching so closely he probably would have missed it, but there were shadows clinging to the edge of your facial expressions. The redness around your eyes just barely noticeable in the mornings, the slight rasp in your voice for the first morning greeting. Your slim fingers would shake slightly, and you would pause. Almost as if you were waiting for someone to open the door, but no one would come.

Not only had you lost your mentor, but many of your dear friends. While he might not completely understand human emotions, he knew what it meant to mourn. The raw pain of losing two of his brothers still fresh and threatening to swallow him whole from time to time.

"Yuji, tell me more about Y/n." He dared not ask while others were around, while he might be a turncoat now, there were still people who didn't trust him entirely. The young man hemmed and hawed a bit, brows furrowed in thought. It was the most thought he saw his younger brother put into something, and it made the notion of this being a delicate subject even more apparent.

"Well, Y/n is a crazy strong sorcerer. Like insanely strong, even Nanamin use to say so, and he never said stuff like that. I've been worried lately, she isn't the same since, you know." Yuji chuckled nervously, was it to hide his guilt?

In truth, Choso didn't learn more than what he had already gathered. It was easy for him to sit back and observe, quietly taking notes in his head about your likes and dislikes, what made the corners of your mouth begin to twitch into a half-hearted smile. He silently began to take it upon himself to try and ease your burden.

The boldest he got was leaving a few wild flowers in front of your door.

That morning you came to breakfast holding them, which sent his heart into a frenzy. It plummeted once you sat next to the shikigami user, asking if he was the one who left them.

"Wasn't me." You cocked a brow, eyes sweeping across the room in a smooth motion. Choso pointedly caught your eye, maintaining contact for a brief moment before turning to Yuji.

It didn't stop him from seeing the slight flush to your cheeks out of the corner of his eye.

----------

There were some nights he could hear your sobs. For the most part, you did well to conceal them, and if anyone were aware they never mentioned it. It opened up a gaping wound in his chest, to hear the desolate place your cries came from. He thought he could ignore it and allow you to deal with it yourself, to work through your grief in the way you knew how.

Tonight he couldn't.

He drifted to your door silently, and held his breath. Never before had a door looked so intimidating, but it was the barrier helping to muffle your quiet cries. He pressed the pads of his fingers against the worn wood, wondering how many times you had trudged your way here after a hard battle. If that shikigami user had ever done what he did, but with more confidence.

He surprised himself when he knocked softly, as if he could scare away the aura that the silvery moon granted. It surprised him even more to hear shuffling behind the door, no doubt you were collecting yourself, before the latch popped open.

"Choso-San? Is everything alright?" There it was, the rasp in your voice, the redness around your eyes slightly more apparent.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed. " When I lost my brothers, I didn't know how to continue, all that pushed me to continue was the thought of revenge."

The way your lips parted, eyes wide and trained on him, was quickly derailing his train of thought.

"You can try to bury the feelings, but they're still there, no matter what you do." His fingers twitched, a sigh leaving his lips. It was unfair that you looked so tragically beautiful, even now.

"I'm not sure-"

"You might be able to put on a brave face for the others, but you can't really think that your mask will work on me."

He was a curse, a tainted being who shouldn't be feeling like this. It shouldn't be natural to place a hand on your shoulder and pull you against his chest. Why was it as easy as breathing to allow his eyes to fall shut, basking in the scent of your shampoo? Why weren't you pulling away?

"You don't have to bear this burden alone," he whispered. Your entire body shuddered, and he could feel your hands grasp at the front of his shirt. It was reminiscent of someone drowning desperately holding onto their salvation.

He wasn't surprised when the first sob racked your body, your face pressed against his collar bone as if that would shield you from the world. You were unaware of the fact that he would do just that, shield you. The you who kindly included him in conversation, poured his tea, offered to let him try sweets that you had gotten as an offering from someone who knew you were in mourning. The you who, despite all of your injuries, had stood tall and vouched for him when he came to the realization that Itadori Yuji was his long lost little brother. He would never forget the fierceness in your face, and the way it had sent heat rushing to his face.

"I won't allow you to bear this burden alone." He carefully allowed his cheek to rest against the top of your head, arms awkwardly wrapping around your shaking frame. He kept waiting for you to push him away, to tell him that you didn't need him to coddle you.

"Please, please just stay" It was gasped between sobs, and barely comprehensible, but there wasn't a chance his ears would deceive him now.

He might be a wretched curse, but he would be damned if he would allow anything to happen to you ever again.

Your tear stained face was dusted with a tender shade of pink, eyes shining brightly in the dim light. He didn't dare push his luck and try anything that might offend you, he simply waited with bated breath as you gathered your thoughts.

"Please Choso, don't leave too."

It quickly became habitual. At night when he couldn't sleep, he would inconspicuously wander his way to your room, which would be unlocked just for him. Some nights you would be caught in a troubled sleep, blankets tangled around your legs as you whimpered quietly. Some nights would bring fresh waves of grief, and he would help you tread them without a word. He was able to marvel at how soft your hair was as he fumbled his way around trying to comfort you, or how it felt like you fit in his arms like a missing piece of himself. It wasn't until you pressed a brief kiss to his cheek that it began to bleed into your day to day tasks.

While he still didn't risk doing anything that might offend you, he began to grow bold. Brushing fingers across your cheek with a small smile on his face, which sent a chaotic blush to the tips of your ears, daring to place a hand at your waist when you were relatively alone. These stolen moments helped to not only ease his own grief, but you began to flourish.

He would stay, for as long as you wanted him too. Your silent protector.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso #manga spoilers #mmmm yes comfort

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