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turtleedovee · 4 years ago

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Life Has a Funny Way of Working Out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3,111

Warnings: Cursing, abuse, angst, small descriptions of blood and bruises, shouting, breaking things (that’s about it but if you guys have anything else i’ll gladly add it to the list)

A/N: this is my first bucky fic ahh! idk if i’ve ever posted any fanfics on this blog before which is crazy. i was thinking of making a side blog but whatever it works here. this is gonna be a series of sorts. maybe three chapters, 4? we’ll see. reader is a female and has powers oOoOoo. i’ll post this on AO3 as well so check out my account on there too! i’ll reblog this post with the ao3 link once i publish it on there if you wanna leave kudos or see my other work 👀but anyways i’m done talking, i hope you enjoy! (not my gif)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You sighed at your boyfriend’s anger and frustration, you didn’t blame him of course, you had just told him you wanted to break up.

“Please just calm down and let’s talk about this-” You tapped the table lightly, signaling him to just take a seat because he wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth.

“No, I’m not gonna sit down, what the hell? Why are you doing this to me?” He ran his hand down his face; you were really hoping this wouldn’t turn into some big thing but life has a funny way of working out.

“We talked about this. You are constantly complaining about me not being around enough because you just want to hang out with me, which is sweet of you, but after thinking about it, I am not what you need right now, I can’t be an attentive girlfriend right now and you know why.” You tried to reason with him but he was still standing up, all jittery. You really did think about this long and hard; he was always upset about you being away on missions constantly but you had warned him about that the first time you both went on a date.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you save the fucking world, then why did you decide to put me through this if you knew you weren’t gonna be around.” He accused you.

“Wow.” You were starting to get upset, standing up you started defending yourself. “I told you what we were in for if we started dating, you told me you didn’t care and wanted to be with me either way. So you knew this was going to be difficult, now I’m giving you an out. You can go be with someone who will be there for you alright? I can’t be that for you and I’m sorry.” He scoffed and turned away from you, after a couple of seconds of silence he turned around and looked at you in shock.

“Oh my god.”

You shook your head confused. “What?”

“You’ve been cheating on me.”

“What!?” Now it was your turn to shout. You could not believe how and where he drew his conclusion.

“No yeah, yeah!” He shouted as if he was trying to convince himself of this. “You constantly hang around this boy’s clubs all the time and what? I’m supposed to believe you’re just going on missions?” He said stepping forward.

You scoffed, honestly amazed as to how he was trying to blame this on you. “Yes! I am away trying not to die constantly to save the world your ass is living in.” You shouted, you clenched your fist so angry as to how this was the same guy who brought you flowers after you came back from your first mission while you two were a couple.

“Oh so now this is my fault.” He waved his arms around, exasperated. “Honestly how am I supposed to believe you.”

“You’re supposed to believe me because I wouldn’t lie to you. Because we’re in a relationship, isn’t that what it’s all about? Trust? I can not believe we are having this conversation right now.” You stepped closer now, just tired of this whole evening.

“Well if you didn’t want to have this conversation maybe you shouldn’t have decided to dump me.” He yelled and then did the most childish thing you could think of: he punched your wall and made a hole in the column right next to the kitchen.

Now you were angry, mainly because you were going to have to pay to have that fixed, or else your landlady would never let you hear the end of it, but also because he was acting like a child. “I decided to end this relationship because I couldn’t be the girlfriend you wanted me to be. You are constantly bitching and moaning that I don’t give you enough attention while I’m out there busting my ass working tirelessly day and night trying to oh I don’t know, save the damn world you live in and you decide to just complain about how you don’t have anyone to watch a movie with you? Honestly dating you had been like having a second job, fuck you-” Suddenly he turned around and swung at you.

Not a slap, it was a punch. He hit you with his right hand and hit the left side of your face, you’ve always been told to expect punches and hits, hell, one of the first rules you learned was to always protect the face. But no training could ever prepare you for the person that you cared for most would decide to swing at you.

The impact was enough to turn you around and almost cause you to fall but the couch was on your right-hand side so as your body motioned to the right you instinctively reached out for the couch and balanced yourself.

You reached out to touch the spot where he hit and realized he broke some skin. As you removed your hand from the side of your face you realized that there was a little bit of blood. You didn’t look at him, trying to compose yourself and not explode.

Just breathe. Just breathe.

You should’ve used your powers

You reacted too slowly

Your powers could’ve stopped him

You should’ve broken up with him in public

He wouldn’t hit you in front of random strangers like he did now… right?

A million and one things ran through your head but finally, after an excruciating 5 seconds of silence, you spoke quietly. “Get out.”

He looked at you as if he was confused as to what you meant by that, but still, he did not move.

“I said get out. Now.” You turned to him, stared him dead in the eye, and pointed to the door. “We’re done. I want you to leave and never speak to me again.”

He shook his head and began to talk, “Babe, c’mon you know I didn’t mean it.” He started walking closer to you and reached out for your arm, but you were ready this time.

You lurched your arm forward and up, lifting the now terrified man in the air, he knew about your powers and what they could do, but you promised to never use them on him; now those promises meant nothing to you.

“I told you to leave. You refuse to listen so here is how this is going to go,” You tilted your head slightly to the right and lifted him up higher, he tried moving his arms but your powers kept them to the side of his body, “you are going to leave. I don’t ever want to see you again, don’t look for me, don’t talk to me, do not even breathe the same fucking air as me. And if I ever see you in my line of sight again, I will not hesitate to end you. Are we clear?” He just stayed there staring at you. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” Using your free hand you motioned it up and to the side, two keys coming out of his pocket and landing in your hand. It was the spare keys you gave him when you first moved to the apartment so that way he could wait for you until you got home. “I’ll be needing these back, thank you.” Putting them away safely in your pocket, now ensuring he won’t be able to get into your apartment complex again. “Now leave.” Once again using your free hand you waved and the door began to open inwards revealing the empty hall. You moved your hand that held him in place towards it and launched him forward, his back hitting the wall. The last thing you saw was him starting to get up but you didn’t give him much of a chance to do anything else until waved for the door to close. Finally letting out the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in, you ran for the door and double-locked it; turning around and resting your back against the door breathing heavily, you stayed there trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

This man was stubborn as hell and you hated him for that. He stayed at your door for god knows how long, occasionally weeping and saying he was sorry for what he did, begging you to let him back inside to talk it out, to bangs on the door and screams shouting things at you whether calling you a “slut” or saying that he straight-up hated you. You were starting to regret asking Fury to find you a complex that had no other tenants on the same floor because you knew by now someone would’ve heard and called to complain, but since the complex was four stories and you were in the building furthest from the staircase, no one could hear anything.

————————————————————————

He checked his phone for the third time in the last 5 minutes

Sent 1 hour ago

Shit…

He turned off his phone and threw his head back sighing. His partner now getting annoyed.

“Look man, don’t worry about it maybe she got just forgot or something,” Sam spoke, looking at Bucky who’s stare stayed unwavering at the ceiling.

“I don’t like it, Sam, she said she would text us once she finished breaking up with that douche bag.” Checking his phone once more, all that stared back was the 4 texts he had sent back to back constantly checking in. You had told him not to call but part of him itched to just hit the dial button and make sure you were okay.

“She’ll call us when she’s ready to talk, so just give her some space.” Sam tried to ease his nerves, but Bucky knew something was off, he felt it in his gut. It wasn’t like you to just not leave a message in case nothing happened.

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Bucky began to get up from the couch.

“Buck-” Sam warned.

“She said she was gonna text us once she finished dumping that guy, that was 3 hours ago and we haven’t heard anything from her. If it’s nothing then I’ll come back.” Bucky grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Sam only shook his head knowing he couldn’t stop him now.

“Fine, but be careful alright. If this guy is still there by the time you come I don’t think he’ll be very happy to see you.” Sam chuckled a little.

But Bucky rolled his eyes and headed out.

————————————————————————

He arrived at your apartment complex in a little under 15 minutes, trying really hard not to break any traffic laws. But it didn’t matter after what felt like forever he looked at the building now shrouded in darkness since the sun had set less than half an hour ago. He tried looking for your window to see any signs of people in there, not getting very far he decided to go up to your door and knock.

This building was not the most secure in the world. The front gate that led to every tenant space was left open so getting in was a breeze. After climbing a few sets of stairs he finally reached your door. The first thing he noticed was the dent on the wall that wasn’t there the last time he came to visit. He tried looking under the door to see any movement but all he saw was something dark standing in front of the door. But didn’t hear anyone speaking; so he just decided to knock quietly hoping you would answer and explain how you were just fine and how everything had gone well.

————————————————————————

Today couldn’t have been any worse

You heard another knock.

Dear fucking god can he not quit

It had been nearly 5 minutes since you heard the last knock and wanted to look to see if he was finally gone but something in your body told you not to move. You have never been this paralyzed in fear. You had gone through worse things before in your life as an Avenger but those guys were bad, they meant to do harm and had no reason to give you any false sense of security, but he did.

Knock knock knock

You couldn’t take it anymore. He had been at the door for over an hour and you just wanted to be left alone, so you got up created a ball of pure energy in your hand made solely out of anger, just ready to blast the ever-living shit out of him.

You began to open the door and started to wind your hand back ready to launch the ball of energy in his face, “I thought I told you to leave me the fu-”

“Woah Woah Woah-!” You heard a voice say, and when you actually looked at who it was you realized it wasn’t your now ex.

“Bucky?” You asked in disbelief, still ready to launch your hand forward at any second. He held his gloved hands above him to cover his face from being blasted right off. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you. You weren’t answering your messages so I got worried.” He said, slowly lowering his hands.

You followed his movement lowering your own raised hand and dispelled the energy ball, fading away just like your anger.

You sighed in relief. “Oh,” you started realizing that he could probably see the mark on your face so you slowly rested the left side of your face on the door, slightly flinching at the contact, not expecting it to hurt as much, you hoped Bucky didn’t notice. “Well, uh, everything is fine.” You told him, giving a small smile.

He tried looking inside, “You sure?”

“Yes I am very sure, it all went smoothly.” You knew lying was going to get you nowhere with him, he was pretty perceptive.

“Okay, so you wouldn’t mind letting me in?” He pressed on, he knew he was getting nowhere standing outside the door, while you were inside desperately trying to hide something.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, trying not to alert him of anything going wrong, but you knew if you told him he couldn’t come in he would suspect something and the last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something worse than it already was.

“Of course, come on in.” You opened the door gesturing to come in, already regretting your decision.

“So, who were you trying to blast?” Bucky asked as you let him in, he examined the living room, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. Your beige couch was slightly slanted forward but other than that everything else seemed to be in place, he did notice however, you having your back towards him, not making eye contact.

“Hmm?” You asked slightly distracted. “Oh, uh my neighbor’s kids, you know they keep running up and down the stairs and hallway.” You said, hoping he believed you, though you wouldn’t even believe your own lie given how shaky your voice was getting,

You cleared your throat, “Want some tea? I’m gonna make some right now.” Hoping a distraction would get you through this.

“No thank you I’m good, so uh, what did he say when you decided to break it off with him?” Bucky asked.

You weren’t ready to discuss this now, but what choice did you have, you could tell he was getting suspicious about something, so you just had to convince him it was nothing.

“Oh you know, he was upset obviously, but what’re you going to do.” You tried sounding nonchalant about the whole thing, you talked all the while putting water in the kettle and put it on the stove to boil. “He was upset but understood why I did it, and then uh, left.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Mhmm.” You spoke, the kettle starting to scream a little, grabbing your mug.

“So, if he just up and left without any struggle… then who made this hole in the wall?” Bucky asked as he tapped the wall with his knuckle.

Your fingers slipped and you dropped your mug, first hitting the counter then smashing into pieces on the floor, the screams of the kettle now almost piercing.

“Shit.” You whispered, for dropping the mug and completely forgetting about the hole he made right before he hit you.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Bucky turned around and saw you on your knees trying to pick up the broken pieces of the mug you had just dropped.

You were at your tipping point. Everything felt like it was unraveling all at once, you tried picking up the broken pieces of the mug, hardly noticing your tears trickling down and hitting the floor.

Bucky turned off the stove to stop the screaming and went up to you, gently putting his hand on your back. “Hey don’t worry about it okay? It’s just a mug you didn’t mean to drop it.”

“No… no no no, I wasn’t careful enough, I should’ve been nicer and more careful, this is all my fault.” You muttered to yourself.

Bucky was starting to think that you weren’t talking about your mug. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and gently lifted your chin and that’s when he first noticed the little bit of dried up blood that was on your left cheek and saw a bruise forming. “Oh god-”

You hated how he stared at you: pity, it was written in his eyes, you really didn’t want anybody to find out, especially him. Most of all, you were embarrassed, embarrassed with everything that happened and how you handled it all.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say, trying really hard not to break down crying, but it got harder the longer you stayed there on the floor staring at the shattered mug.

“Hey it’s okay, come here.” He wrapped you in a tight hug and that was all it took to get you to release the fear, anger, and sadness that you’ve had bottled up for the last few hours.

And there you two were, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, silently crying into Bucky’s shoulder gently gripping his jacket to steady yourself. Bucky just stared at the shattered mug, a mixture of relief and sadness filling his head; glad he went to check up on you but angry and upset that you have been put through something that dick had caused, and he intended to make his sorry ass pay.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #avengers #mcu #sam wilson #bucky barnes x you

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aitarose · 4 years ago

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A HUNDRED LIVES (H. IWAIZUMI) pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

synopsis: only real relationships stand the test of time, some fair better than others—but in the end, all that truly matters is telling them you love them. all that mattered was how hajime would finally confess.

word count: 2.2k

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, mutual pining

warnings: mentions of death

notes: i hated the way this was and i’ve had it finished for like a week and a half but now it’s in second person because i rewrote the whole thing ok aha enjoy! reblogs are very much appreciated like pls tell me what you think about this i kind of love it?? or do i? idk

↳ DIRECTORY

You knew that congratulations were in order, one for not only you, but the entire third year class of Aoba Johsai. The third year class that you’d grown up with, the people that’d graduated together from their high school duties. The very people that you’d grown up with, known for years on years, were moving on from Miyagi and saying their goodbyes.

It was saddening, knowing that you’d all have to leave your past behind, grow up and move on as an individual. You, yourself, hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact that you’d be moving to Tokyo—the city of stars and big dreams. There was something solemn about the thought—beginning a life on your own, away from the friends and family you’d grown used to seeing every day.

Which was why today was all the more important, why it mattered so much in the hole of your mind. It was one final hurrah, one final farewell to all of the fleeting people you’d come to love. All of the classmates from first period, advisors who’d suggested career paths, family friends and relatives that’d seen you grow up—and him.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

As children, you and Iwa had been as close as you could possibly be—spending nearly every day with one another as you were next-door neighbors, only separated by a thin wooden fence. One that was commonly crossed, as it was impossible to stay away from his energy—he’d been your first friend, first crush, the very first boy you’d ever daydreamed about while the sun was awake.

Perhaps it’d been his smile, the joy on his face as he’d swing you back and forth on the playground. How he’d try his best to teach you how to set and spike, lecturing Oikawa as he’d complain about how you were never going to be good at the sport, and ignoring his best friend’s claims of a secret little crush on his favorite girl.

And though those times had been fun and all, the moments in which you’d meet each other between the dividing fences of your backyards during the evening hours, Oikawa long gone—and run off to the countryside to play in the old and sturdy tree house that your father had built the two of you, had always been amongst your favorite memories.

They were the memories that were always on the back of your mind, itching to be recalled, reenacted—the longing you had for him never truly going away even as you grew apart as time went on. That part of your brain, the part that might’ve loved him only taunted you—taunted you with the brokenness of the bond you thought would always last.

Your greatest wish was that you would’ve been able to keep in close contact throughout the late middle and high school years—but life had come in the way, life had ruptured your attachment to him—the responsibility of upholding your family after the death of your father had surpassed your need for Iwa, creating an abyss with no bridge to cross.

No bridge except a tiny, frail wooden beam that would only be stepped on in the times where Iwaizumi and his boasting best friend would stop at his house to hang out when after-school practice had ended. While it was rare that his path would cross yours, there were some sparing moments in which you’d miraculously be outside to greet them.

It wasn’t like you and Iwa weren’t friends anymore, it was just that you’d each let the void amass for so long that there was nothing you really had in common—nothing except the bright pink flush on the both of your faces as Oikawa would poke fun at his ace’s face, causing Iwa to drag him into his house with a stoney and angered expression.

And that was it. That was the only interaction you’d ever have, the only time you’d speak to the boy you thought you loved.

Which was why you weren’t all that surprised when he hadn’t decided to show up to your graduation party despite the handwritten letter you’d dropped off on his doorstep. His absence was deafening, making it all the more difficult to say your goodbyes as the person you wanted to see most, didn’t care enough to bid a farewell.

So, you’d decided to take matters into your own hands and somehow move on from the lost dreams that you’d once shared with Iwaizumi. The only reasonable way being to let go of that broken connection, the connection that had started with your little hideaway—the hideaway amongst the trees that you’d found yourself climbing up now.

The calloused wood of the ladder splintered beneath your hands, scratching the taut skin, sanding its softness—no doubt blistering it to oblivion. You winced, curses flowing under your breath as you hesitantly reached the top, not exactly knowing what to expect as the treehouse had seemingly been abandoned for years.

Pushing your nerves aside, you crawled into the tiny space, forgetting how much younger and smaller you’d been the last time you’d sat in the little alcove. Looking up, your eyes grazed over the clean walls of the hideout, free from overgrown plants and cobwebs and dusted to near perfection—there wasn’t a single thing out of place.

It was surprising, the sight of your childhood playhouse having been taken care of after you’d assumed it had been forgotten—after you’d forgotten. Someone had to have been maintaining its structure, keeping it tidy and homey—that someone being the boy sitting directly across from you, scaring you half to death as his irises grew wide in shock.

“What the—” You started, tripping over your own feet as you fell backwards towards the opening of the doorway. A small scream grew on your lips as you began to free fall, nearly out into the open air before Iwaizumi reached out—catching your wrist in his, reminding you of the times when this was a common occurrence—when he’d never fail to keep you on your feet.

“You alright?” He breathed out, large hand gripping your wrist, continuing to hold on even though you were standing between his arms. It was comforting, the feeling of being so close to him, back in the presence of the boy who’d you’d lost oh-so-long ago—the boy you’d been hoping to see at some point before you had to leave for university. “I see you’re still a bit clumsy.”

Rolling your eyes and stepping away from his familiarity, you crossed your arms, one resting over the other, clear confusion in your eyes. “And I see that you’re still attached to this little shack.” There was a hint of humor in your tone, laughter being vocalized, but pain within its context. “It looks amazing, though—for how long it’s been.”

Iwa scoffed, shaking his head as he bit his lip—mouth itching to say something, then refusing to do so. Perhaps it’d been a snarky remark, or maybe one of sadness, whatever it’d been was lost, now a mystery to your ears. Instead, he patted the stray couch cushion next to him, offering you a seat—the seat that had used to be yours.

You sat in silence, together yet apart as the sun was setting over the far away fields. With every second, every sun ray splitting off and being reborn in moonlight, you could feel your adolescence slipping away—the thought of being dependent and a child losing meaning, losing importance, losing validity and need.

Thoughts running wild, chaos in your mind, the only constant being fear and anxiety in retrospect to the unknown that was your future—your future miles and miles away from everything that you’d come to love. Noticing the stress in your stature, Iwaizumi took a deep breath—wanting to hold your hand, but stopping himself before he could try.

“It hasn’t been that long, you know.” He said softly, glancing over at you. A little smile grew on his face at the furrow in your eyebrows, the slight upturn of your lips, and scrunched nose. If there was any beauty in the world, any beauty at all—Iwa believed that you were gifted with all of it. “I used to come here every night.”

“Yeah, Hajime—I know.” You responded, scoffing as you called him by his first name, the only name you’d ever known him by. “We both did, I was here too—” In the midst of your smart-assed response, he shook his head. There was something about his posture, energy, that made you stop in your tracks—it was one of his little ticks, one of the things that you’d never failed to remember.

“But that’s just the thing—you weren’t here.” He mumbled, tapping the top of his knee with a finger as he leant back against the wooden walls, a reminiscent look in his eyes. “I’ve always been here, Y/N—always kept this place perfect for you, on the off chance that you’d come back. On the off chance that we’d keep our promises and not forget about each other.”

There was a sense of solemnness to the words spouting from his mouth, the truth that she had in fact left him behind—all with reason that he undoubtedly understood—but that didn’t make up for the lost years and memories that they could’ve had had she not been so distracted with the troubles of life and reliability.

“This is going to sound ridiculous since you’re leaving soon—” Iwa mumbled under his breath, internally cursing at himself at the horrible placement of his timing. “—but I’m not going to lie, Y/N. I really did think we’d end up together, somehow. When I proposed to you in that corner over there with that grass ring, I meant it. I meant every word.”

“Even if that ring had fallen apart two seconds after I tried to slip it on you.” A laugh bubbled from your throat, recalling the memory from when you were children—how he’d given you a kiss on the cheek along with getting down on one knee. The two of you had had a makeshift wedding after that, gathering all of your stuffed animals and placing plastic chairs beneath the tree—saying your vows with your parents in attendance, watching fondly at the pure sight.

Biting your lip, you turned to face him and his gaze that had already been intent on seeing you. There was a ghost of a grin on his features, wistful wonder in his irises, his hair messy and sticking in every direction due to the static—yet he was still the most handsome boy you’d ever seen. “I’m sorry.” You placed a hand on his, stopping the fidgeting nerves in his lap, and calming the rushing blood in his veins.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long.” Wincing at the thought of your carelessness, the complete disregard you’d kept for his feelings along with your own. You’d had no intent on leaving Iwa behind, you’d just been so caught up with your own problems that he’d gotten lost in the mix of it all. “I must be a pretty shitty wife.”

Iwa laughed loudly, head dropping back at your remark. The moment was filled with deja vu, reigniting all of the feelings and love you’d buried under the hauntings of your mind. He always seemed to manage to make that broken part of you feel whole again, with his directed remarks and little jokes. “You’re not wrong, left me all alone after the altar—that doesn’t exactly scream ‘perfect wife’ material.”

Those words seemed to trigger something in him, a feeling that he hadn’t yet overcome as his expression turned stoney. Placing his empty palm above yours, hands stacked atop one another in a tower, Iwa grimaced, choosing his next set of sentences very wisely—knowing full well that they could make or break whatever chances he had with you.

“It’s alright though.” He whispered, his warmth heating the radiating coldness that was you. “Since I’d rather live a hundred lives of loneliness, then see you suffer even a minute of sadness.”

With his emotions bare, confessions out on the table, the things he said were more meaningful than those three little words themselves—you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow. The love you held for him overcompensating for every mistake and pain that you must’ve caused him—the only goal listed in your head being to make the rest of your time count, make the rest of your lives worth something together.

Leaning forward, ignoring the look of surprise on Iwa’s face as your nose touched his, you smiled through the outflowing sentences—outflowing thoughts that were spouting out like raindrops in a thunderstorm. “Sounds like you might be living a pretty lonely life, then.”

He chuckled, calloused hands cupping your cheeks as he pulled you in, pressing a soft and long-overdue kiss to your awaiting lips. It was euphoria, the absolute bliss that was being with him, the boy of your dreams. It was a kiss that you’d spent countless nights thinking over, countless fleeting wishes of him holding you exactly as he was now.

While your future had always been uncertain, there was at least one constant—a constant that would hopefully always be right within your grasp, right within your arms to hold on to, listen to, love wholeheartedly. Iwaizumi Hajime was it for you, he was the endgame that you’d always been searching for.

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pogueshomecoming · 5 years ago

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Bruises (part two) x JJ Maybank

requested? yes: there were multiple! I can’t find them all on my blog now but thank you to everyone who asked for this. I hope it meets your expectations!

the original request, “jj gets drunk and starts being aggresive but when he’s sober he sees the injuries he has made on you and asks where they have come from (not knowing he was the one) and john b/ the other pogues have to tell him. :))))) (@jjjmaybank)

fill out this survey to join my taglist(s), here’s my masterlist, and requests are open

warnings: crying, angst, but also soft toward the end

word count: 2.5k

here’s part one icymi! idk how you could’ve since I haven’t shut up about it

After that day you left JJ on the ground, you distanced yourself from the Pogues. It felt like the right thing to do, considering you weren’t around before you started dating him. It also broke your heart because the four of them had become your family.

Without them, you became more independent. You ran newspaper routes in Figure 8 to keep the lights on in the little shack you called home. It was good for you to establish a routine.

Still, there were those days that you pedaled a little faster past the Maybank residence, so you didn’t have to think about JJ for too long. You don’t hate him for what he did, but you know he does. It put you in a hard position.

Knowing that you’re the only person who could convince JJ that he wasn’t terrible, and knowing you aren’t ready to face him caused emotional turmoil. So, you had to not think about him.

Occasionally, you’d see the Pogues around, minus JJ. You never stayed long enough to have a conversation, but you always acknowledged their presence. JJ was their friend first, they needed to be there for him before you’d think about going back to them. Taking yourself out of the group eliminated them from choosing between you and JJ, it was simple.

Until it wasn’t simple anymore. You’d called in an order at the Wreck after paying your bills to treat yourself. It was early, right as the Wreck was opening when you got there. The plan was to get your food and go home because spending time alone had come to be your favorite thing recently.

Entering the restaurant, you go straight to the bar to let them know you were here. Only after that do you look around, spotting Pope, Kie, and John B sitting still a table in the corner. They’re already looking at you, but grabbing your food and going isn’t an option because the lady hasn’t brought it back yet.

So, you walk over, giving them a smile and a wave. “Hey, guys.”

“Hi, Y/N. You doing okay?” Kie asks, but something is off with them. Pope’s eyes are focused on something behind you. John B and Kie keep cutting their eyes to the side.

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you?” You ask any of them that will answer, looking between the three.

“Uh, yeah, we’re good too. That’s good, glad to hear.” John B says, but it’s rushed, and he’s not looking at you now.

“What is going on? Are you guys okay?” You twist a little to glance around the dining room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary until you turn back to the table, looking at the empty chair that your hands were resting on. There was a cup on the table in front of it.

“Oh, you’re expecting someone.” You say quietly, and suddenly they’re all looking at you again.

“JJ is in the bathroom.” Pope blurts, causing Kie and John B to look at him.

“What? She should know before he comes out, right?” Obviously, they’d talked about this situation before.

“I’m on my way out, it’s not a big deal. It was good to see you guys.” You wave them off, but Kie stops you from turning around.

“You don’t have to rush off, that’s not what we want. We just-“

“I know, Kie. It’s okay. There’s no sides or anything, but I’m going to go anyway. See you.”

You give a small smile before turning around. The smile quickly fades when you’re now standing in front of your ex-boyfriend. Suddenly, your palms are sweaty, and your heart has moved to your ears. Your emotions are overwhelming you because you can’t get yourself to move or say anything.

JJ physically looks good, he looks like he always did. However, his face has softened upon realizing that it’s you. His eyes are starting to get shiny, and his brows are pinched together ever so slightly. To top it all off, the corners of his mouth seem to be pulled down toward the floor by an invisible string.

“Y/N, your order is ready.”

JJ flinches, hearing someone say your name. You don’t say anything, you step around him. Every ounce of his energy went into not reaching out for you, but that was all he wanted to do.

You grab the paper sack off of the counter and immediately exit the restaurant, afraid that you were going to suffocate if you didn’t. You’re panting by the time you reach your bike, setting the food into the little basket, and swinging your leg over the seat.

Seeing JJ confirmed all of your worst fears. He hadn’t forgiven himself or even thought about it. JJ couldn’t look at you without being reminded of what he did to you.

But the worst fear? The worst part? You realized you still weren’t ready to talk to him. Feeling yourself freeze up in front of him was exactly how it felt when you were tensing, your muscles to prepare for his blow. You hated yourself for that because he didn’t mean it. JJ wouldn’t do it again, you didn’t have to talk to him to know that.

So instead of enjoying your celebratory meal, you threw it away and cried.

Three days later, you’re holding your bike while standing beside it, looking at the Maybank house in front of you.

Your hands are shaky as you lay the bike in the grass. JJ’s dirt bike is in the front, but his dad’s van is not. If there was any time to do this, it’s now.

The front door is opened slightly, so you don’t knock as you enter. Trash litters almost every surface, but that was normal around here. Music is coming from behind JJ’s bedroom door.

Another deep breath. This time you do knock, but you don’t wait for an answer.

JJ is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His chest rises and falls slowly with his breathing. For a second, you think he’s asleep, but then his chest expands as he inhales harder. That’s when you realize he’s crying.

“JJ?” You ask softly, you’re still in the doorway with the doorknob in your hand.

He sits up immediately, wiping at the tears that streak his face. That’s not what you’re worried about, you’re worried about the dozen bruises all over his upper body. His lower abdomen is so bruised you can’t tell what color his skin is supposed to be.

You gasp, covering your hands with your mouth. JJ follows your gaze, looking over his body, but he shrugs your reaction off.

“Don’t Y/N. This is what I deserve for what I did to you.” JJ shakes his head. His voice is shaky and barely audible.

“What on earth are you talking about, JJ?” You don’t move. For some reason, your feet are planted right where they are.

“I’ve been picking fights with my dad. Purposely getting him worked up so he’ll hit me. I want to feel the pain I caused you for every day of my life.” JJ can’t look at you. He can hardly speak he’s so upset.

You tilt your head back, looking at the ceiling for just a moment while you think. A sob that leaves JJ’s mouth is what pulls you back, and even though you’re still trying to figure out what to say, your feet start moving toward him.

He looks up at you just as you open your arms and take the last step you need to reach him. As you close yourself around him, JJ doesn’t try to fight you, he accepts you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, at least, each of you squeezing with a good and constant amount of pressure as if you’re afraid to ever let go. Eventually, though, you gather your thoughts, and you’re ready to talk to him.

You pull your arms out from underneath his and move your hands to his face, making him look at you.

“Listen to me, JJ Maybank. I want this to get through your thick and stubborn skull, got it?” You wait for him to nod before you continue, blinking the tears out of your eyes. “You are not terrible because of a mistake you made. It doesn’t define you, it doesn’t mean you deserve punishment, it only means that you had a lapse of judgment.”

“But I hurt you. I can’t forgive myself for that.” JJ’s blue eyes are so pretty when he’s crying, but you like them much more when he’s smiling.

“Yeah. You did hurt me, JJ, but I forgive you. I’m not excusing your actions, I’m not saying it was right, or that I’ll forgive you if it happens again, but I’m saying that I forgive you. Do you want to know why?”

He looks back to his lap but nods. “Because even though you hurt me, you’re the one that I wanted to heal me.”

“Really?” JJ makes eye contact with you again, and for the first time, he doesn’t look completely miserable. His frown is a little less droopy.

“Because I believe with my whole heart that you’d do anything in your power to take back your actions and prevent even the slightest chance it could happen again.”

JJ reaches up, cupping your face in his hands. “I would, and I am. I don’t go to the keggers anymore, I don’t even help John B and Pope pick it up. No more kook parties for me, either. I’m trying to do the right thing, baby, I really am.”

He’s full-on sobbing again as he clings to you.

“I know you are, sweetheart. I never doubted you, I just needed some time.”

You hold him for a little bit, rocking him back and forth until he’s calmed down. After his breathing has returned to normal, he pulls you onto the bed with him and lays you down.

“Can... can I see?” He asks, nodding toward your torso. The bruises weren’t there anymore, but you give him permission anyway.

Slowly, JJ rolls your shirt up, starting at the bottom. He stops when he meets your bra, tucking it under so it’ll stay out of his way. His breath fans over your body as he observes you for a few moments, and you watch him carefully.

JJ leans over you, opening his nightstand and digging around for a moment. When he finally finds what he wants, you recognize it as a pen.

“What are you doing?”

“Can you show me where they were?”

Even though they’re gone, you remember where exactly where they were. The image the mirror reflected the day after has stayed with you. So you trace the odd shapes with your fingertips, and JJ follows your finger with the point of the pen.

The one that used to be on your shoulder is the last one he draws, then he sits back for a few minutes. JJ’s eyes rake over your body, but not at all in a sexual way. You can tell he’s letting the negative thoughts back in, so you grab his hand to squeeze.

JJ leans down and presses a kiss to each spot. He lets his lips linger each time, giving you chills from feeling his breath. Your heart swells at the gesture, and tears prick your eyes once again. Finally, he locks eyes with you again.

“Now you should go. You can’t come back until the ink is gone, and no scrubbing it off in a day. I can’t let you forgive me yet, it’s too soon for that. I didn’t do anything to deserve redemption.” JJ has a bad habit of mumbling when he’s upset, so it’s a good thing you’ve known him long enough to understand what he’s saying.

He rolls your shirt back down to its place, and you sigh. “I don’t agree with you, JJ, but if it’s what you want, then I understand.”

You watch him roll away from you, his way of finishing the conversation. With a sigh, you get up and make your way to the door. An idea comes to mind before you’re out of his room.

Turning on your heel, you speak, your voice strong and firm to let him know you’re not playing around. “No, JJ, I’m not letting you decide when I forgive you. This should be on my terms. Come with me.”

One hand is outstretched to him, waiting for him to roll out of bed and accept it. After a few moments, he does. JJ’s movements are slow because of his soreness, and you can tell he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not hurting.

Your boyfriend places his hand in yours, knowing he can’t argue with you, so he follows without a word. However, you don’t take him far. You lead him down the hall and into the bathroom.

JJ shuts the door behind you two as you turn on the sink, letting the water run until it’s warm and grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet below. You push yourself up onto the counter next to the sink and hand him the rag, then you pull your shirt over your head.

He watches your shirt fall to the floor, turning the washcloth over in his hand. When JJ looks up at you, he’s got that tortured look on his face. The one where his eyebrows are pulled together just enough to create a line between them. The one where his eyes are red and brimming with tears. The one where the corners of his mouth are pulled into a permanent frown.

“Wash the ink off.” You lift your arms, making the marks on your skin more visible.

“What?”

You take his hand and put it under the faucet. “Because you said you haven’t done anything for redemption. I’ve spent weeks thinking about this, about what happened. It was hard, but I came to terms with it, and I forgive you, JJ. That doesn’t do us any good if you can’t forgive yourself, so I need you to wash the ink off. Show yourself that I’m healed, and we can move forward.”

Tears well up in both of your eyes, and slowly, JJ starts gently wiping the ink on your skin away. You reach up every now and then to wipe his tears off of his cheeks, each time you see a corner of his mouth lift in a small smile to show his appreciation.

When he’s finished, JJ places his hands on the edge of the sink and leans his weight into them. You think maybe he’s trying to hide that his hands are shaking, but the closer you look at him, his whole body is shaking.

Gently, you tug on his elbow until he’s standing between your legs again. All you can do is take him into your arms and let him cry. You did what you could, and the rest is up to him. Maybe things won’t be the same between you for a little bit, but that’s okay.

The only thing you can guarantee him is that you’ll be there while his bruises heal.

thank you for reading! don’t forget to reblog if you liked it or send me feedback :)

jj maybank taglist + ones who asked to be tagged: @wlwkie , @jjjmaybank , @shawnssongs , @hopelesswritingxd , @newsiestrash123 , @millie-753 , @thatsonobx , @jjtheangel , @obxkie, @baileysb1tch, @ohbx , @babysbestlife , @psychicforest , @fanficscuziranout , @maebanks , @diverdown06, @pogue-writings , @maybankdreams , @thelocalpogue , @maybe-maybanks , @dpaccione , @teenwaywardasgardian , @extratragic , @pixelated-pogues , @kitluvs1 , @a-brooding-bird , @ilovejjmaybank , @damonsalvawhore27 , @beth-winchester21 , @danicarosaline , @sunwardsss , @outerbanksbro , @collecting-stories , @thebendslikebendover , @maybebanks , @jjxobx

(also just want to say that I posted part one a little over a month ago and I only had one person on my taglist, now look at all of you! thank you 🥺)

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oneirataxxiaa · 5 years ago

Text

Give Us A Little Love

Request from Anon : Oof i pressed ask before i could end it. Here we go again:"Do you trust me?" "Always" "Look,a shooting star! Make a wish." "Take my hand." "Are you...blushing?" with YJ Kaldur.

Im so sorry for the wait Anon, I had some things I had to deal with. Made it long for you to make up for it! I’ve been listening to the song ‘ Give Us A Little Love ‘ by Fallulah so I kinda based the Y/N off that? used this as bit of a vent piece, Idk. Missed a prompt cause i couldn’t fit it in. Enjoy! *opens writing angst playlist*

warnings: serious angst. mentions of suicide, swearing, neglect, trust issues?

“Give us a little love, give us a little love . We never had enough, we never had enough”

***

Trouble seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

Never able to settle down, each time she felt as though she had found herself a forever home, Y/n L/n experienced something that would send her foster parents running to send her away. The daughter of an unnamed member of the League of Assassins and a civilian, the child who dealt with horrors no one should have to witness at an age such as that, Y/n learned early on to trust no one, do what's best for herself to stay alive another day.

Y/n was raised by her mother's guild until she was old enough to fight, being subjected to the terrors dealt by the League of Assassins, her childhood was disrupted. She developed little social skills beyond basic polite greetings and formal conversations. She understood the human body, not for science exams, but to know what the fastest way to kill a person was. She could fight her way out of any battle, but place her in a social situation and she would shut down. Unable to think for herself.

Y/n was fourteen when she was put into foster care, after Talia Al Gaul became pregnant with a son and there was a new heir to the league. Tossed away like a bag of trash, her mother didn't stand up for her, and her father wouldn't care for her. Pushed into the system and forgotten.

"What happened now?" Mrs Davis asked her husband. She looked tired, resting her head on her hand, her eyes half closed. Her husband of ten years shook his head.

"She punched someone, one of the upperclassmen bumped into her and she reacted by sending them across the hallway" the man was in his early forties, tired from work and stressed from the current situation.

"God, what are we going to do with her Luke? We can't home-school her, and she refuses to see a therapist! we've tried punishing her, rewarding good behaviour, doing nothing! I don't know what to do anymore" the woman sounded desperate. Her and her husband thought a good idea would be to take in a seventeen year old trouble child through fostering. Over the three months they had her, nothing quelled her radical behaviour.

Luke Davies sighed. Exhaling and rubbing a hand over his eyes with frustration. "There's nothing we can do" he paused, hating the idea that crossed his mind. "we'll have to put her back into the system. Our health and life is important as well, so, we have to take care of that" his wife nodded, looking down at her hands, tears of guilt pricking in the corners of her brown eyes, becoming heavy.

"I'll call Ruth in the morning then".

Beyond the kitchen, Y/n sat with her back against the wall, a scowl on her face as tears threatened to spill. 'emotions betray us, control them' her mothers voice rang in her ears, a memory of toddlers and nightmares and staying awake hoping and praying the monsters from the green pool wouldn't come for her. Y/n sniffed, her tears drying as she willed them to do. The teen hiked her bag further up her shoulder and took a breath, walking past the entrance to the kitchen and out the front door, ignoring the yells of her foster parents, Y/n started into a run, disappearing into the streets as dusk set in.

She didn't know when she ended up a the waters edge, but it was plenty after dark. The sun long gone and her foster parents left far behind. Y/n walked along the boardwalk, feet kicking at pebbles on the ground, sending them skipping across the concrete. Giving herself an idea, she picked up the pebbles as she walked, placing each small stone into the pocket of her jacket until she had quite the collection growing there. Further down the coast she could see a peir, stretching out over the water. That was her destination.

Voices were heard to her left, making the girl turn to see a couple whispering to each other, on dragging the other - who was laughing - towards the closed fairground further down. Y/n frowned at the freedom the two seemed to think they had, too distracted by each other to care about consequences of their actions. That was dangerous, a thrill that many couples took the chance on as far as she knew. As far as she knew, having no experience in that department anyway. The couple vanished from sight and their laughter faded into the night like a memory.

The concrete ground turned to wood, and the crunching of stones turned to occasional creaks and groans from the old wooden plants supporting the jetty. Y/n walked the length of it, reaching the end and standing still. The girl enjoyed the smell of sea salt, the crashing ambience of the waves and calls of birds gliding over the water. The moonlight seemed only to amplify the wild beauty of the ocean, making her want to stay there forever. Y/n picked a stone from her pocket, flicking it out with her wrist, it didn't even skip. Simply crashing into the water with a dissatisfying plop. The teen tried again, angling it further down and still failing to achieve the skip she wanted.

"you should bend your whole body, it helps get the right angle" Y/n jumped back, pulling a pocket knife from her jeans and flicking the blade out. Her eyes were narrowed at the person who snuck up on her out of nowhere. "its alright, I'm not planning on hurting you" raising his hands in a calming motion. Y/n didn't move. "if I was planning to, I would have done it when you didn't know I was here don't you think?" he reasoned, motioning for her to put down the weapon. A minute passed of the boy eyeing the weapon, then looking her up and down. Any movement either made sent the other into a split second panic. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, Y/n lowered the knife, tucking it back into her pocket. The boy let out a breath and walked a little closer. Now that he was out of the shadow of the buildings on the shore, Y/n could see his features clearly. A strange suit with two handles strapped on his back. Dark skin, glossy from the salt water, blonde hair in a close shaved buzz-cut, and pale turquoise eyes that looked darker in the night air.

"can i ask what you're doing out here on your own, throwing rocks into the water?" he walks closer, eventually standing beside her.

"you may not ask" she replies, taking another rock in her hand, pausing and considering the boys first words to her. Y/n bent sideways at the waist, bending her knees and swinging her arm, being sure to flick her wrist. With the added momentum and angle, the rock bounced three times of the surface of the water before sinking on the forth landing and vanishing under the waves. Content with the one victory, Y/n dug out the rest of the rocks in her pocket, holding out her full hand and dropping them into the water with a series of splashes. She watched the fall.

"A waste of rocks if you ask me" The boy said, now leaning against one of the support poles.

"I didn't"

"didn't what?"

"ask you, I didn't ask you" Y/n clarified, sitting down on the wood, watching the waves like a mesmerising swirl of hypnotising spirals, pulling her deeper in. It felt dark in her mind, dark and scary. She felt her own emotions smothering her, suffocating her and clawing to get out.

A tear fell.

Almost instantly, the boy was by her side, sitting on the wood beside her, legs hanging over the edge in the cold water. He didn't say anything, but every action he made clarified the idea that he would listen.

Y/n opened her mouth, throwing words into the wind, venting frustration, anger and confusion, her words a spiral of fear and unfamiliarity. She felt afraid, afraid she would get a proper family. It was her fault, her behaviour and actions drove these kind people away. But she could help it, couldn't stop herself from doing things that made foster parents scared to have her around them. She couldn’t control herself some times, lashing out in fear and anger to those around her. People were scared of her, avoiding her in the hallways, refusing to work with her for projects. It hurt, to be isolated, but she knew it was her fault. She closed her mouth, halting her words and looking down at the water, tears falling freely now, though there were few. She didn’t know why she was speaking to him, telling him everything that had happened. She didn’t want to

“you’re allowed to react how you have been, nobody should expect you to stay quiet through everything that happened” The boy said, crossing his legs underneath himself. Y/n stayed silent, looking out at the water. “do you feel better? letting everything out?”

She nodded, raising to her feet, Y/n kicked her foot against the ground, frowning.

“Uh- thank you-”

“Kaldur” he said.

“Thank you Kaldur” she nodded, sticking her hands in her pockets and turning on her heel to head back towards the Davis’ house. Leaving the strange boy behind her.

***

It shouldn’t have surprised her that her foster parents had called to return her. She found herself sitting in the police station, being picked up by a cop car when the Davis’ reported her as a runaway. Sitting with her head rolled back on the chair, her legs kicked out in front of her and her hands behind her head, Her mind was slow, running over scenarios in her head of what would happen to her. Would she be thrown back into the system? Would they put her out on her own? She would be eighteen in a month. Would they just throw her out on her own, to deal with what lay ahead with nowhere to turn?

Y/n looked conflicted, alone and confused. Which is what interested one of the training detectives. He was young, around eighteen or nineteen, but his connections helped jump start his dream career.

“What are you in for?” He asked. Y/n looked up. This one had dark hair and blue eyes with a spark in them that made her wonder what was going on in his head. He looked like he was planning something, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out exactly what it was going on in his head.

“Running away apparently” she shrugged, sitting up and crossing one leg over the other in a more comfortable position. Dick frowned, sitting himself in the chair across from her and leaning his arms on his knees. He didn’t wear a uniform like most of the officers in the station, having on a blue shirt, black cotton jacket and jeans. He looked almost casual, at home in the station among officers much older them himself. But something told Y/n he was smarter then he looked.

“Why’d you run away?”

“Why should I tell you?” Suspicion rose on her voice. Dick sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve done the same stuff, when I first moved in with my adopted dad I ran away three times in the first week” that made Y/n laugh a little, shaking her head with amusement.

“In one week?”

“yep, was probably my best achievement at that point in my life” he grinned, “I was thirteen as well”

“Good on you” the girl nodded, picking at the corner of her shirt, pulling a thread out and watching the fabric bunch up.

“Yeah, then I settled into the house, and well, thats that I guess”. He trailed off, making Y/n frown and look down.

“Its not that easy”

“Its not, not when you don’t try” He looked like he was trying to help, but he was just pushing her further out of her comfort zone.

“I did try!” Y/n exclaimed. “I tried so hard to be a good kid, I can’t help it . . .” her outburst faded quickly and Dick got to his feet.

“I’m going to make a quick call, i’ll be back, I promise” his smile was infectious, and Y/n returned it, looking at the floor again as she ran a hand over her face and then rested her arms on her knees, an uncomfortable position, but she didn’t seem to care about it in the moment. Time passed, and Y/n seemed to be ignored by officers who walked past. The occasional person would send a smile her way but ultimately, she felt like she was on an island, in the middle of the sea of people who were judging her for being there.

“Alright, you’re all set!” Dick appeared out of nowhere, phone and keys in hand. His sudden appearance made Y/n start in surprise, looking at him with wide eyes for a second before calming down and settling again.

“What?” Y/n asked, confused, getting to her feet and following the boy as he gestured for her to follow him. They walked from the office, out into the hallway and towards the lobby room, filled with various civilians and criminals being brought in for holding.

“I, being myself, made a call to my dad, we’ve got this big house in Gotham City, and there’s heaps of room for someone to stay, even with Tim living there and Barbara dropping in from time to time” Y/n didn’t recognise any of the names he dropped, but things were starting to click in her mind. “I’m Dick Grayson by the way” and that was when it all came together in her mind.

“You’re Bruce Wayne's son!” The girl stopped walking, eyes wide in surprise. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t see it before, the man looked just like the pictures of Bruce and his kids that she had seen on the news online. He was usually pictured with Bruce, and a shorter boy with dark hair. Seeing her reaction to it, Dick took a breath and rolled his eyes. As if he had to deal with such reactions on the daily - which was probably the actual case.

“Yep, now come on, or do you want to stay here moping all day?” the boy grinned and walked out of the building. Y/n looked back at the officers, milling around the station, nothing interesting catching her eyes. Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, Y/n followed him out the door as she let said breath out.

The car park was fairly empty, considering how early in the morning it was, and that most people had just walked there to avoid traffic considering the station was central in the city of Bludhaven. Dick lead her towards a car parked on the far side. Y/n wasn’t an expert on cars, but she could tell that this was expensive - far more then she could afford - and certainly in the price range of a billionaires son.

“Can I ask where we are going?” Y/n questioned when he opened the door for her. He nodded, closing the door behind her and walking around to the drivers side of the vehicle. Closing his own door and pushing the keys into the ignition, he replied.

“I called Bruce, as I said, he’s finalising some paperwork to foster you - so we are heading to the manor in Gotham! Not too long of a drive”. Y/n stared at the dashboard in front of her with wide eyes, processing what was happening. A few hours before, she was sobbing and venting everything to some random boy on the pier, and now she was moving in with a billionaire. It was a startling change, the suddenness of it started crashing down on her. “Do you have anything you want to pick up from your old place?” Dick asked, turning the wheel to get them out onto the road, following the signs towards Gotham City.

“No” was her simple reply, tucking up her legs, Y/n positioned herself to look out the window, watching the city flash by, a swirl of bright lights and dark corners and alleys.

***

“Are you sure you’re ready to work with everyone?” Dick asked, tapping on the zeta panel, his stance was casual enough, but his eyes kept glancing towards Y/n checking up on her to make sure she was alright. Something he’d been doing since she’d moved into Wayne manor all those months ago. Y/n herself however felt nervousness curling in the base of her stomach, clutching at her chest and making her feel a little sick. Not like she was going to throw up, but it certainly wasn’t helping to steady her nerves. The girl looked towards him when he spoke, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine Dick, I already know most of the Team anyways, i’ve known Kaldur longer then i’ve known you” Dick shook his head with a small laugh leaving his lips. A beep emitted from the panel, and their location was locked in.

“Alright, first official team mission here we come then!”

“what are you going on about, you’ve been on missions before”

“that’s not what I- you know what, no, i’m not letting you have this win” he grinned, securing his mask and walking up to the platform, Y/n following him.

“sore loser?” she asked, matching his grin and standing beside her adopted brother.

“says you” was his quick reply before they were swallowed by the bright yellow light of the zeta tube. It was always strange to travel this way, stretched across a far distance only to be snapped back into place where they had set their destination. This mixed with the feeling of unease that already settled within her system made her clutch her stomach as they reappeared in the zeta entrance to the cave the mission room sprawling out in front of them, various heroes spread out, chatting amongst themselves as if there wasn’t a serious mission about to occur. Heads raised when her and her brothers names were announced by the computer, most turned back to their conversations, but one stayed up, looking towards them, and eventually walking in their direction. Y/n heard him before she saw him.

“Nightwing said you’d be joining us” Kaldur smiled as a greeting, “Are you alright? you look like you’re going to be sick” the smile turned to a neutral expression of concern, something that seemed to appear a lot when Y/n was around. He always had an eye out on her, to make sure she was alright, make sure she was feeling her best. Y/n smiled softly.

“I’m fine, just a lot of people that I haven’t met” she replied. When Y/n first encountered the Team, she had just started vigilante work with Nightwing, and was only introduced to Artemis, Wally and Zatanna, and reintroduced to Kaldur. It was awkward for a few weeks before the two fell into a comfortable friendship. Still confiding in each other with troubles and fears, but their relationship with each other was more stable then the random meetups on the pier. They became close, usually found together when they both had free time. Y/n could confidently say that he was one of her closest friends, alongside Nightwing and Zatanna.

His expression changed, from concern to understanding, the smile returning.

“you’ll be alright, its not a big mission, just some surveillance” his words helped her a little, the nerves calming down. He rested a hand on her shoulder as perhaps some kind of reassuring act, but it sent a strange feeling through her mind.

“yeah, alright” she swallowed, looking forwards, and hoping beyond hope that the burning feeling rising to her cheeks and ears was covered by her domino mask. Unfortunately, luck didn’t seem to be on her side at that moment.

“Y/n, are you . . . blushing?” Kaldur asked, drawing her attention back to him, instead of hyper fixating on making the blush fade.

“No” she replied, glad that her training with Nightwing and Batman left her with a good control over her voice and expressions - the blush was something she had little to no control over unfortunately. She continued however, the question throwing her into a defensive reply. “Its not your business anyways”. That made her cringe at her own words and guilt crawled in her. Kaldur seemed to let out a breath, dropping his hand from her shoulders and stepping back a little.Y/n frowned at the movement. Had she offended him? Was what she said - lying - wrong? Y/n looked at the ground, fiddling now with the corner of her suits belt, her hands moving with nervous energy. Nightwing announced the mission details, explaining what each squad would be doing. He would be keeping an eye on everything from the cave, but Y/n herself was on a lookout team with Kaldur and Zatanna. Once the group split up into the teams and started heading out, Zatanna approached Y/n, smiling.

“Where’s Kaldur? I assumed he’d be with you” she looked confused, around as if Kaldur would be hiding.

“I’m not sure, he left a little while ago” Y/n turned, and Kaldur was indeed gone from where he had been standing. Zatanna lit up when she spotted him by the Zeta Tube.

“There he is, come on Y/h/n” Zatanna walked towards him, the other female following quickly behind. They were silent when travelling to their location. Even Zatanna seemed to see there was some sort of strange tension between the two heroes, though not sure where it had sprouted from. As far as Zatanna understood, the two were close friends. After arriving at the location, Kaldur spoke to Zatanna quietly for a moment, the girl nodded and Kaldur walked towards Y/n, holding his hand out.

“take my hand, please?” he asked, making Y/n frown as she couldn’t decern the tone of voice he was using. So, she took his hand and he pulled her off to the side, out of the earshot of Zatanna, who took over the job of keeping an eye out for what they were looking for.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, sitting her down on the ground and sitting across from her.

“Always” Y/n replied, quicker then she would have liked. Kaldur nodded.

“Then why don’t you tell me whats wrong? You’ve been cold lately, colder then usual, and I want to make sure you are alright, and if there is anything that I can do to help you” Y/n looked down, scratching her arm nervously. She mustn’t have been as subtle as she would have liked then. Kaldur sat up a little straighter. “I don’t mind you taking your time, but I would like to know if I can help you in any way”

“I like you” she replied. Cringing at her bluntness. He was definitely sitting up straighter now. “And I don’t know how to deal with it - and i’m sorry if I've been rude to you, or anything like that” she paused. “I’m just not sure what to do, and I don’t think i’m ready for anything serious, but i’d like to see where it goes and-” Y/n paused to take a breath. Thats when Kaldur interjected.

“Y/n, slow down a little bit please, you don’t need to explain anything to me” he smiled.

“I’m sorry”

“don’t be, you don’t need to apologise for experiencing hardships, you take your time and take steps at your own pace, and i’ll be right there beside you when you need me” He got to his feet, offering his hand to help her up.

“Sorry- uh, thank you Kaldur” she smiled, and he returned the expression.

“If you guys are done? We’ve got some movement down there” Zatanna called to them from where she was set, watching over the empty cortyard.

“We should probably get back to work” Y/n laughed nervously.

“Probably” Kaldur replied, the two walking towards Zatanna.

Some relationships aren’t sudden. They require communication between both parties, settling on what best fits them. And Y/n? She just needed time. So Kaldur would wait until she was ready.

***

THIS TOOK 10000 YEARS . HERE YOU GO

onto DCACB chapter 3

requests are open! tag list : @silverdecepticon93 @izzieg3987 @starr60

#young justice #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #young justice headcanons #Kaldur'ahm #kaldur x reader #kaldur #aqualad x reader #aqualad #batsis #the team #oneshot #nightwing #zatanna

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leatherjacketvan · 6 years ago

Text

Back to You

A/N : This was a request! Thank you for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it! It’s super long but I felt the need to be detailed. Also, it’s poorly edited so I apologize. Enjoy! :)

*** The Past

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!?”

Shocked and confused you both stood in the comforting space of your living room. However, the tensions from the heartbreaks you both were now in the face of made your home feel far from a sanctuary.

“I- I can’t do this! It’s too much. I feel like our relationship is living off of borrowed time!” You replied, trying so hard to gulp all your feelings down. But they were bursting through like a busted water pipe and there was nothing you could do about it. No matter how hard you tried to keep it all in.

“So what? You’re breaking up with me!? Is that what this is!?”

“Van. . . I- I don’t know. I don’t know what this is. I just can’t keep pretending we’re okay. We’re not. . .”

“Everything’s been pretty fucking great for me! Why? Am I not good enough for you now?” He sneered. He was bitter and cold and it hurt to see him that way.

“Van. Calm down! We can’t talk when you’re acting like this.” You replied solemnly but sternly.

“Calm down? Y/N, you’re the one who’s breaking my heart right now! Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

“Van. . .” you replied. You sat down on the couch, a wave of emotions hit you like a tsunami. Sobbing into your hands as if you were a child. This was never what you wanted. But it was something that you felt that you needed to do.

Your brain always treated you with logic not with tenderness. You told yourself you couldn’t do this anymore.The constantly being away, the burdensome feeling you had when you weren’t around him, not knowing what the future would even hold for the both of you considering how you couldn’t seem to move past the fact you may never have or even want the time to just settle down. You convinced yourself it was the truth. . . that these were all valid reasons to leave. Maybe it was. . ? It felt like it was. . . You’re brain was all warped over the idea of losing him. You loved him. . . right? Yes- of course you did! How could you not? He was bright and kind. Caring for you and always there when he could be. But that was the thing ‘could be.’

He was constantly gone for long periods of time. You were constantly traveling back and forth for work. You loved him. . . yeah. . . you really did. But it made your brain melt and your heartache whenever you thought about all the times he was never around. Or when you were never around.

You sat quietly after you started to calm down from the wave of panic that had just possessed your body. He walked over to the couch, sat down right next to you and sighed heavily. Letting out a strange whimper as he began to break down too.

“Van, you know I love you. . . right?” you said softly. He pulled you into a tight embrace as your head faced the floorboards. He cried into your shoulder. You couldn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“Yes, Y/N. I know you love me. I love you too. . . I just don’t understand. . . Why are you doing this?�� he replied, his voice was melancholy and strained. Both of your emotions were filled with innocence and desperation, which made the situation all the more devastating

“Because, right now. In my life. . . things are changing. I’m gone all the time, and so are you. I miss you constantly. I hate when you leave. Hell! I hate when I leave. . . But I worked so hard to get where I’m at. . . and so have you. Neither of us should have to compromise our careers for each other. It wouldn’t be fair. . .” you began.

“Van. I think you need to let me go. . .” you turned up to look him in the eye. But he was already staring into yours. His had become ghastly pale, his frame was slumped. His cheeks blushed from the sadness.

“I- I. . . can’t, Y/N. I love you. . . I love you so much I can’t-” he broke his words with a soft sob. You held him in your arms this time. The moment was so sappy but it was now a reality. And it was terrifying to think you were just going to leave one of the best things that ever happened to you. And that you were breaking not only yours, but someone else’s heart.

“Van. . . I’m gonna leave. It’s what’s best for the both of us. I know it. I think deep down you know it too.”

“You can’t!” he said, an absolute mess.

“Van. . .” you said sternly. You grabbed his face and intently looked him in the eyes. Your nose was all runny and your face was all red and puffy. You were far from a pretty crier. You knew that. He knew that too.

“Van, ju- just think! For one moment. . . . please. . . just.” you signed heavily. “I love you, I always will. You’re one of the best things to have ever happen in this lifetime of mine. And I say that without a fucking doubt in my mind. But if we keep this up. We’ll never be okay. Things will just get worse.”

He sighed heavily, he pulled your hands away from his face and held them gently in his.

“You’re going to leave me?” he whimpered.

“I think we need some time apart is all. I know this doesn’t feel right now, but Van I know it is. You can focus on yourself now. You can let me go. . . I promise.

I understand if you hate me. I hate me for doing this to us. . . But in the long-run. This is what’s right.”

He looked down at your hands, his thumb rubbed over the ring he got you for your last anniversary. It marked three years of your love for one another.

“You promise?” he mumbled.

“What?” you questioned confused.

“You promise, that no matter what. . . you’ll never take this off? Please. . . promise me.” he said solemnly.

“I promise, Van.”

*** The Present

You sat upon your brand new sofa and took a deep exhale of relief. “Finally!” you exhaled.

You sat in your new apartment. You had just got done decorating. It was finally a home now. All your records were organized by genre, artist and then release date. Your kitchen was now prepped for you to cook actual food, instead of takeout that you’d been eating for the past few weeks as you settled into your new place. Your bed was made up and your bathroom was stocked with all your essentials and favorite things. You had finally moved in.

The past few years had brought a lot of new perspectives into your life. They way you wanted to live it and so on. . . It was no longer a struggle to figure out the next step like it had been for so long. Because you had realized something. . . Life was too unexpected. And to map it out down to the smallest details was only causing you stress and even more stress. You got sick of living like that. So you decided to finally just let live. You weren’t old by any means- but you were getting older. And you were at a point in your life where you had to be a real adult now. Even though you’ve had a continuously climbing career, you decided to settle down for awhile. Maybe you’d change your mind in a few years. . . who knows?

You sat back and relaxed as you opened the bottle of wine that you had been saving for this moment. You filled your glass and slowly sipped on your pricey Rose. The dinging of your phone abruptly came from the coffee table. You slowly leaned over and picked it up to see a text from one of your long time friends, Quinn. You’d been college buddies, and she definitely made your homesickness a lot better whenever she was around.

“You’ll never guess who the FUcK is in town rn!!!” - Quinn.

“Idk is it ur creepy uncle who wears the button downs but without buttoning them? Because if it is. . . I’ll pass :)” - Y/N.

“No! … thank god. . . but Y/N like for real!!” - Quinn.

“Okay Q. . . who is it?” - Y/N.

“Y/N. . .” - Quinn.

“I’M GETTING IMPATIENT NOW! WHO???? Spill it!” - Y/N

“Y/N. . . it’s Van. . . :/” - Quinn.

“. . .” -Y/N.

“Do you want me to come over? I know how much you hate to talk about it. . . He’s only here for a few days anyway.”

“. . . yeah. You can swing on by. . . we’re going to need more wine tho :/” - Y/N

“Of course girly :) I gotchu. . . always. <3 .” - Quinn.

You gulped down your glass and set it to the side as you began to just drink straight from the bottle.

You stared into the blankness of your wall. You didn’t understand why you were so caught up about Van still. It had been years, afterall. He’s probably moved on by now. After you split ways with Van you didn’t really keep in contact much longer, afterwards. Their was the occasional ‘I think I left my favorite perfume at your place.’ or ‘ Mind if I drop by? I think I left fifa at your place.’

Your work had you flying around a lot after that. Going from city to city every other day for a few months at a time. That’s when one day you had the enlightening realization that it was all becoming too much and that you should just settle someplace for awhile. Which is exactly what you did. And something about you settling down now, without Van, made you feel a deep guilt that built up in your stomach.

The door opened and Quinn walked in. She sat down next to you and let out a deep sigh. “Men amiright?” she scoffed, taking her own beverage from the bottle too. You both looked at each other. Then at the ground. You just started to laugh. It started off as a small little breathy scoff, and then laughter just erupted from your lungs, and you couldn’t stop. You were practically screaming you head off with laughter like a madman. Quinn just sat confused.

“Quinn.” you paused mid-laughter.

“I’m fucked. . .” you sighed.

“Y/n. . .” Quinn muttered trying to get your attention.

“Yeah?”

“I think you still love him. . .”

“. . . I think so too.” you replied softly.

You both stared at each other once again. Eyes glassy and scared.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore.” you asked desperately. It felt pathetic to say aloud.

“I think love always finds a way back to you. This just doesn’t happen to be a very convenient coincidence? No I don’t think so. This was meant to happen.” Quinn said.

In college you studied multimedia and she studied psychology. So your more meaningful conversations always ended with Quinn reciting something philosophical and you agreeing to it even if you had no idea what she was even talking about.

“I’m gonna go call him.” you murmured. You got up from the couch and walked into your bedroom. Scrolling through your contacts you found his name. The lame little eggplant emoji that Van forced you to put in his contact name was still there. You took a deep breath as the dial tones began to ring.

“Hello?” he spoke.

“Uh. . . hey.” you replied awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” he asked.

Your heart sunk into your chest, you regretted this. This just felt like a mistake. “Um. I think you might remember me. . . It’s Y/n.” you spoke softly.

“Y/n!?” he replied enthusiastically. It made your stomach fill with butterflies the way he said your name.

“My bad. I just got a new phone, don’t have a lot of contacts in this thing yet,” he laughed.

“Van! Hi, I hope i’m not intruding on anything. . . Uh. . . um- a friend of mine told me you were in town.”

“Me and the lads just landed in Chicago.” he replied a little lost.

“Yeah. . . I -uh. Moved back home.” you said.

You grew up in the States your whole life. But moved to Chicago for University. You first met Van in Chicago and he always thought it was where you grew up. You never bothered to correct him on it.

“You moved back to Chicago?” he said. The tone in his voice had shifted from perky to solemn.

“Uh- yeah. Recently though.” you replied.

“Oh. . . um. . .” he said aimlessly.

“Yeah! Anyways- what a weird coincidence. Ya know. . . the timing and all. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see each other while you’re here? It’d be nice to see you again.” you said.

“Of course, Y/n! How about tonight? We don’t play a show until tomorrow and it’d be fantastic to see ya.” he said cheerily.

“Yeah of course! Sounds great!” you responded.

“Awesome! I’ll text you a time and place,” he spoke.

“Yeah Van, I’m looking forward to it,” you said. A feeling of sadness had overrun your body at the sound of his sweet voice.

“. . .”

“Yeah. . . me too. Catch you later Y/n,” he said.

The line went dead and you felt colder than normal. You walked out into the living room. Quinn sitting on the couch with a smirk on her face.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

You scoffed, “I don’t know, how do you think it went? I know your nosy ass was listening in on every word.”

“I think it went pretty damn well if you ask me,” she replied.

“. . . Yeah. I hope so. . .”

Later that night you peeled out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into something more casual. You were meeting him at some bar called ‘Patty’s.’ Van always made poor choices when it came to finding new places. He loved the dive bars. But, in your opinion, they just seemed like every girl’s worst nightmare. Sweaty old dudes checking you out. Mold growing on the walls of the bathrooms. Those sorts of things.

You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse, but really you were just trying to avoid the situation you whole handedly put yourself into.

When you got to the bar you were running late. You took a short walk from the train to the place you were supposed to meet and every now and then you would stall to ‘catch your breath’ or ‘adjust your shoe.’ Anything to postpone that awful feeling in your stomach. It was guilt and you knew it. . . It began to eat you alive ever since your phone call.

You walked up to the bar, took a deep breath, and walked inside. You looked around. It was noisy and old rock music was blaring from blown out speakers in the background. You looked over to your right. There he was. You felt your chest sink into your stomach. A few empty glasses already cascaded the table he was sitting at. You slowly approached him and saw the look on his face brighten when he saw yours. You took a seat across from him and began to prepare for an uncomfortable night.

“Hey” he said. He had a huge grin on his face, like a young kid when they see their crush. It made you crack a sad smile looking at that goofy lovable smile of his. The one you let down all the years ago.

You took a seat across from him. An awkward silence was held between the both of you. You had no idea on where even to start.

“So. . . what’s new with you?” he asked politely.

“Oh. . . a lot currently. I just finished moving in and I start work again at the office in a few days,” you replied. trying to make innocent conversation.

“Chicago, huh? What made you want to move back here?” he said. Only a few words in and it already felt like an interrogation. But you knew you owed him at least an explanation as to where you’d been and what you’d been doing all this time you’ve been apart.

“The past few years I’ve been all over. I just got a little homesick I guess,” you replied.

You could hear a slight breathy scoff come from under his breath. “What happened to not wanting to settle down?” he muttered as he stared at his glass somberly. He was starting to come off a rude and quite judgemental of your decisions, but his eyes were glossy and he looked so lost in thought. You could tell he was still hurt. Even after all this time.

“You’re right. . . I didn’t want to settle down. But, I don’t know maybe now I do,” you replied.

“So. . . Does that mean you’ve been seeing someone?” he questioned. He had the same negativity in his tone, but he spoke calmly.

You sat quietly, feeling the intensity rise “. . . No Van, I haven’t really thought about that part of settling down.” you replied.

“Oh. . .” he said softly circling the top of his whiskey glass with his finger.

“But how have you been?” you interjected into the uncomfortable silence.

“Oh. . . I’ve been great. Yeah,” he bluntly replied. You could tell he didn’t really want to come here for small talk, despite the happiness in his tone when you talked on the phone earlier. You thought he would’ve just loved to tell you what he’s been up to. But deep down, you knew you were foolish to think your guilt wasn’t going to come up to bite you in the ass.

He wanted something more.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you said, nodding your head with a soft smile.

“Yeah. . . Ya know. . a lot of songwriting, we’ve got a new album dropping soon.” he stated.

“That’s awesome Van! I’m happy for you! How are the guys by the way?” you replied.

“They’re all good. Bondy’s laid of drinking a little bit. Larry is. . . well. . . still Larry.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“That’s awesome! It’s good to hear you’re doing good!” you said cheerfully.

“Yeah. . . I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” he retorted.

“I mean- I. . . I don’t know.” you replied nervously.

You both sat silently for a good moment.

“. . . Van. What’s on your mind? You seem a little tense,” you mumbled out.

“. . . Yeah, well, here we are.” he replied coldly.

“Is it because you want to talk. . . like, about us?” you asked. You could almost feel your bones shaking and the goosebumps forming on your skin.

“Yeah. But uh- not here. I don’t want to talk about it here.” he bluntly stated.

“Okay. . . well we could. . . I don’t know maybe go back to my place?” you mentioned.

“. . . yeah, um. . . okay.” He replied.

You looked down at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers. A nervous habit of yours. He slid out from his seat and you followed suit. You slung your bag over your shoulder and the both of you headed out of the front door of the lame dive that you were so glad to finally be leaving. This wasn’t exactly how you planned on leaving it though. But then again, you had no idea what you expected to happen.

You and Van walked side by side, occasionally bumping into each other from the lack of distance between the two of you. You folded your arms in front of one another to make sure your hand wouldn’t accidentally meet his.

You walked down to the train and waited an awkward five minutes in somewhat silence as the Amtrak slowly approached.

When you got back to your building. You fiddled with your keys. Shaking a little bit as you tried hard to hide your nervousness. But when it came to Van, you could never seem to hide your emotions very well.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he asked concerningly.

“Uh- yeah” you chuckled “New keys, you know how it is. . . that’s all,” you stuttered out. He nodded his head as in ‘yeah. . . alright.’ He could tell you were a nervous wreck. But deep down inside he was too. If it wasn’t for the intense pregaming he probably would’ve been acting the same way.

You finally made your way into your apartment. You tossed your keys into the dish next to the doorway and walked over to the kitchen. He followed behind you as you began to look through the cupboards for some alcohol. Preferably something with high content. The quicker you weren’t sober. The better.

You grabbed a bottle of vodka for you and some whiskey for Van. You didn’t bother with shot glasses. Not that you were sure you had any, anyhow. You grabbed two regular glasses and began to walk out into the living space. You plopped down on your couch like you had earlier that day. But this time in an entirely different situation. With entirely different thoughts running through your head. He sat next to you. And you just sat in silence as you both poured drinks.

“So. . . um. You asked me earlier if I’d been seeing anyone. How about you?” you asked.

“‘Course not,” he replied.

You let out a little laugh, trying to break tension. “How come? You’re a fine lad. I’m sure the ladies are all over you. I know they were when we were-” you stopped mid sentence. Instantly regretting that statement.

“When we were together?” he replied.

“Uh- yeah, I guess,” you mumbled out, embarrassed.

He let out a little laugh. “No. I haven’t really found anyone all that interesting. I haven’t found anyone worthwhile,” he replied.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, taking a long gulp of your strong beverage.

“Not to sound cocky, but you should. You’re amazing Y/n. No one could ever come close to you,” he softly spoke. You looked up at him. You forgot about how much his eyes glimmered in soft light.

“Bullshit! I’ve met plenty of girls who are way cooler than I am,” you replied with a calm laugh.

“Oh, so you’re into girls now I take it?” he snickered.

“Van! You know what I mean,” you replied with more laughter.

“Yeah. . . I suppose so,” he sadly replied.

“But I don’t think there will ever be someone quite like you,” he said. He took a strand of hair from your face and pushed it aside. You awkwardly looked down, not knowing how to respond.

“Y/n- I.” he stopped as he looked down at your hands that had made their way crossed upon a pillow. You looked down too. On your right middle finger sat the ring Van gave you.

“You still wear it?” he asked. He looked shocked, happy, and sad at the same time. An odd expression but one that you instantly detected.

“Yeah. . . of course! We made a promise. But do you know how much of a pain it was to keep track of it with all my travels.” You laughed.

“Y/n- I can’t believe you actually kept it,” he replied with a soft smile as he held his hand in yours.

“It was three years of undying love, remember?” you smirked.

“Yeah, I remember. I remember how you called me corny for saying that. . . but it was the truth,” he smiled.

“And it-” he stopped. Looked down at your hands and then back at you.

“Even after all this time, I still feel like maybe it is,”

You couldn’t detect why, but all of a sudden that guilty feeling rolled all throughout your body. You became a little flustered on how to respond. Before you knew it, you had tears in your eyes.

“What’d I say!?” he interjected; concerned.

“Oh God, I don’t know! It’s not you. . . Well I mean it is but it isn’t,” you began. Van instantly wrapped his arms around you; tightly.

“I know. I know. It’s okay,” he said. Comforting you.

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke. It came out a little bit raspy as you still tried to stop yourself from actually crying.

“No Y/n. Don’t be. . I. . .” he began to speak as he loosened his embrace and his eyes met yours. Your face was all red and your eyes were puffy. You were an ugly crier. You knew that. So did he. . .

“I think you were right. About having distance. Even if it met losing you for awhile. When I first heard your call I about freaked out with happiness. I couldn’t contain it. I couldn’t believe it was you. Y/n I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. When you left. . . I thought maybe I could move on, but you’re the one. You’ve been stuck in my brain for what feels like centuries. And now that we’re here. Together.”

You looked him in the eyes once more as he held your face in his hands. He had a hopeful grin on his face as he looked right back at you. You leaned in closer. His lips caressed yours as he softly kissed your lips. But the intensity was astronomical. He pulled your body closer to his as if you were weightless. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. Returning the gesture. You paused. Looking at him with a flirty smile.

“You know I heard this cheesy thing, but I think maybe it’s true,” you spoke

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Van replied with a cheeky grin.

“It goes like ‘no matter what love always finds a way back to you’ or something,” you said.

Hand held your hand and squeezed it tight. Giving you another passionate kiss on the lips before saying “I guess now both of us are corny lovers” he chuckled.

You leaned once more.

“Yeah. Maybe we are…” you smirked.

#catfish and the bottlemen #catb #van mccann #fanfic #fanfiction #vanfiction #vanmccann #mccann #vanfic #romance #angst #backtoyou #selena gomez #songfic

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amidst-the-mists-blog · 7 years ago

Note

Hey, I do you think you could do a imagine where the reader is like really anxious about everything and they've snuck away from their house one night for some fresh air and they come across the losers club and the club think they’re like a ghost or something because they’re too shy to approach them? idk if that makes sense.

Hey there lovely, thanks very much! You’re my first request which made me smile because I didn’t think I would get any. I like to write my imagines using first person (I/Me/Myself) as opposed to second person (You/Your). I have written the anxiety to be the way I experience it, but I apologise if that’s different to the way you feel anxious!

Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy it! xx

He Sees the Ghosts

‘Amidst the mists,

and fiercest frosts,

he thrusts his fists against the posts

and still insists he sees the ghosts.’

The chant wrapped around my body like a mantra, cloaking me in an odd sort of comfort as I shakily picked my way through the dense scrub around the place the locals called ‘the Barrens.’ The words seemed to ward off any evil nearby as the trail twisted ahead, glistening and silver, snaking its way through the trees towards the gossamer river. I couldn’t tell you where I’d picked the words up, but I knew that they sat comfortably on my tongue. The moon and stars pulsed weakly behind a veil of mist, begging to be seen. I felt like the mist was inside my head too, wrapping itself tightly around my mind. My heart raced a million miles an hour and I couldn’t stop the shaking encompassing my whole body. I felt utterly, hopelessly, devastatingly, alone.

Then I came across the clearing.

The river twisted silently past a group of children sitting in a circle. Torch beams skittered across young faces but for once the light didn’t make them look eerie, but cosy. Something must have just happened in the group, though, because a short boy was sending high-pitched threats of ‘I’m going to kill you Tozier!’ curling up into the night sky. However, instead of actually killing anybody, the short boy bent down and settled himself between a face with thick-framed glasses and another framed by curly hair with a huff. It was quite funny, and from my hiding spot I stifled a laugh.

‘Guys, did you hear that?’ The short boy’s head snapped up instantly, staring straight at my face. My heart rate quickened and I begged him not to see me. That was Eddie Kaspbrak. I knew him and his friends, I realised with despair. We were all in the same grade. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights - I couldn’t leave now. If they saw me, they’d tell everybody about how I was spying on them, and my life would become even more miserable.

‘Hear what, dumbass?’ Richie Tozier scoffed. ‘Did Mommy give you too many pills today?’

‘Beep beep Richie!’ Eddie was angry now. ‘I heard something, I swear I did.’

‘R-r-relax, Eddie. It’ll just be a r-r-raccoon or s-something,’ Bill Denbrough muttered tiredly.

‘That was not a raccoon, I know what a racoon sounds like Bill, and that’s - look, I’m not supposed to be out this late, and if, and if some murderer finds us and kills us, then my Mom will kill me. I’m not kidding.’

‘Maybe its the weird clown all you virgins keep seeing, the one that bled all over Bev’s bathroom!’ Richie got up and danced around the circle, waving his arms around and chanting ‘oh Evil Clown that stalks our dreams, come forth and -‘

I let out a small gasp as he mentioned the clown. It was like all control left my body. I began to shake and my heart tightened its grip on my stomach. Seven heads turned towards my shelter.

‘What the f*ck was that?’ Richie gasped.

‘It’s a killer. Oh, I told you, I told you! When my Mom finds out…’

Amidst the mists, and fiercest frosts.

I repeated the words again and again in my head, letting the familiar rhythm distract me from the pressure in my heart.

‘It’s not a killer.’ A calm, steady voice said. It was one I didn’t recognise from the hallways of school. My heartbeat hammered away again.,

He thrusts his fists against the posts.

‘You don’t know anything, Mike! I bet he’s going to cut us up and there’ll be blood everywhere and do you know how long it takes to bleed to death? ten minutes, guys, only ten -‘

I let out my breath, a puff of white dancing upwards in the cool night air. The group froze again and Bill inched cautiously closer towards the trees that protected me. Our eyes locked for a split second and he let out a short, sharp, breath.

‘It’s a g-g-g-g-‘

‘It’s a ghost.’ Eddie whimpered.

And still insists he sees the ghosts.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Stan Uris began, but he trailed off immediately.

‘I’m not a ghost.’ I whispered, but I might as well have been. I felt as ice-cold as the river slipping along its course behind the group. Suddenly the pressure left my chest and I turned to run, mortified that I’d been caught spying. My feet skittered on the blanket of leaves underfoot and I almost lost a fight to a tree trunk, but strong, firm hands held me in place. I couldn’t break free and the panic bubbled inside me again. My stomach turned itself inside out and back again, but I turned round to swing a punch, only to pause when I realised the age of my captor.

‘Jesus.’ The hands released me and unfamiliar dark brown eyes met mine. ‘Who are you?’

I froze and the mist made its way back into my brain, shutting down every reaction I had. Everything felt heavy and leaden and I felt the pine needles crunch beneath my feet as I swayed underneath the stars.

‘Woah there.’ Brown-eyes soothed. ‘Are you alright?’ I couldn’t reply.

An assortment of hands lowered me down onto the dirt, and a jacket was draped around my shoulders protectively.

‘I’m Mike Hanlon,’ the boy said. ‘That’s Beverly, Ben, Stan, Bill, Eddie and Richie. There’s no need to panic, you’re fine with us.’

I couldn’t respond, only stare blankly ahead.

‘I know you.’ the only girl said, and I knew her too - she was Beverly Marsh, and she was in my social studies class. So was the boy next to her, Ben something.

‘You’re Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.’

I nodded my head, but it was an effort. I couldn’t stop shaking and my teeth were chattering. Every sense felt heightened - the mournful call of the owl seemed to split my head into two, allowing the cold air to slice against my skin and the weight of the coat anchor me to the ground.

‘Why were you hidden?’ Beverly asked gently. ‘You didn’t think we’d hurt you, did you? We’re not like Bowers and his gang.’

I struggled to breathe. Stan and Mike both put a hand on my shoulder and it felt kind of nice. Almost as if I had friends to look out for me.

‘I’ve seen you around s-school.’ Bill mused. ‘B-B-Bowers hates you too. I don’t know wh-why.’

I dipped my head in recognition, still shivering.

‘Are you alright?’

I tried to open my mouth, but I felt like I was watching the whole scene through tunnelled vision. The torchlight Eddie was shining into my face was too bright.

‘Hey, cut that out.’ Beverly said to him. Then to me, ‘Bowers isn’t here. Neither is that clown, if you’re wondering.’

I looked up at her with wide eyes. ‘You’re not going mad, we’ve all seen It.’

Richie opened his mouth to protest, but I saw the look Bill exchanged with him, and the comment slipped unsaid into the night.

I caught Ben’s eye. I couldn’t say anything, but I hoped he knew somewhat what I was thinking.

It was in my house. In my house.

Ben slung an arm around my shoulder. ‘There’s safety in numbers.’ He looked up at the others expectantly. Richie rolled his eyes. Mike smiled. Eddie simply threw up his hands, saying, ‘it’s not up to me, it’s never up to me, so just do what you want, alright.’

‘We’ve kinda got a c-c-club going.’ Bill said. ‘It’s like a g-g-group of l-losers. Do you w-w-want in?’

Yes. More than anything, yes.

My mouth refused to work, turning over every possible outcome of the situation. None of them were good. Despite my intentions to avoid it, my eyes filled with tears. I tried to shake the coat off, only to find yet more hands pressing it back into its place. Stan looked worried about me. It was a nice kind of feeling, to have people worried about me.

‘Can you say something? Please? Just so we know you’re alright? Whatever’s in your head, just say it.’

I drew in a lungful of sharp, cold air.

‘He thrusts his fists against the posts.’

Bill smiled at me, and Richie let out a mock cry of ‘it speaks!’

‘And still insists he sees the ghosts.’

Richie knelt before me and brandished his torch as if it was a knight’s sword instead of about to run out of battery. With a flourish he tapped each shoulder twice and pulled me to my feet amongst cheers and sleepy yawns. Ben flashed me a timid smile.

‘Welcome to the Losers Club, Y/N.’

#It #It 2017 #the losers club #stan uris #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #richie tozier #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #eddie kaspbrak #imagine #pennywise #henry bowers

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