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iinafarawaygalaxii · 1 year ago

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Star Wars the Clone Wars: Bloodline

Into the Unknown : Chapter 4

Timeline: 22bby

Summary: Vera begins her journey and makes new friends. Despite where she was headed, this was the first time she had been excited for the unknown, venturing back into the darkness that brought her here, only this time... she's not alone. However... How long will she be able to hide her identity now that she's in the direct path of danger?

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: light fluff

Rating: SFW

Notes: Please forgive me, I didnt run this past anyone and just decided to post since its been so long. Thank you for being super patient! life tends to get in the way quite often. Enjoy ^^

"ID please?", Vera handed the soldier her badge while examining other troopers and GAR personnel going through the same process to gain entry to the staging grounds for the republic cruisers. The giant metals walls tumbled into her view with a generous amount of clones walking to and from their assigned locations, "Okay, You check out. Welcome to the staging grounds Doctor. Right this way please.", he motioned towards the two troopers in blue... the same colors as Captain Rex’s.

"Thank you...", She said making her way as every step she took, eyes began to follow. Completely imbued on this woman in white. She was in her given medical attire wearing a white tunic, white pants and black boots as dark as her hair. It was atypical seeing a civilian women serving the republic but it was even more strange for the troopers to see a women in clone assigned uniforms. Though her sets where specifically tailored to her body, the design remained the same as the other troopers. She thought that would at least conceal a little- but attention was drawn and so were her nerves.

Pacing closer to her assigned escorts, "Doctor Cross!", a voice she happily recognized came to ear and when she turned around, she saw none other than, "Commander..!-", she hurried to him still shying away from the prying eyes that prickled her nervous system, "Its a relief to see you", she said exhaling loudly as she reached her arms around his neck pressing her body against his. The hug was unexpected but Cody wanted to take the moment in, realizing the ploy at hand. He winked at her and gripped her tightly, gently leaving his hands on her waist. "You're being deployed today, I came to make sure you got to the cruiser", he stated as he gently let go of her. Immediately- the eyes of the other troopers leave her, 'Thank the gods,' she thought as she blushed a little from Codys actions. She tucked a hair behind her ear peering up to the inspiration that lead her there, "Thank you Commander. Thats kind-", she winked back and continued, "I was told to meet the soldiers over there in blue." She pointed at the two soldiers who were just in the line of sight with blue markings, ones who armor was immaculately clean and the other with a blue handprint on his chest.

"Ah Fives and Echo", he exclaimed with a grin. "You know these men?", she questioned smiling back at the commander. He gently grins, remembering the moment him and Rex 'almost' saved a base trying to stave off a commando droid invasion led by General Grivous."Yes they are shinies of the 501st company. Commanded by Captain Rex, Ashoka Tano and General Skywalker. Good men, reliable...."

Hearing this information obviously stunned her as she closed her eyes whispering to herself, "of course", peering back up to the sky to regain her thoughts. She couldn't tell if she was feeling excitement or dread but Master Windu did warn her that she would be serving under a general with high casualties in the early morning briefing. "I see", she said, "Well, Im running a bit late, I should go...", she looked at him with a worrying expression as she finally gathered that shes putting herself in the same position her and her family were 10 years ago. Admittedly, she was scared. But somehow, as she turned to Cody who smiled kindly at her, she knew it was going to be okay. The Commander had a sense of her fear but he remained stoic and gave her a smile of confidence that went without words.... telling her she was going to be okay. Her heart throbbed as she returned the smile realizing that Cody was special. He saw right through her and came all this way just to see her off, despite his responsibilities.

The effort was there but... how to thank him? She inhaled deeply and exhaled, expelling the rest of her nerves and releasing the butterflies that have so casually made their appearance from the moment Cody said her name. "Thank you for seeing me off..... Commander", She planted a kiss on his cheek, wondering if that was maybe too much or too little. The hug was already a lot in front of this many people but the kiss sealed the letter for word to travel and even though they both knew that, he looked down to her and gently touched her chin, "May the force be with you...", he pinned his eyes on hers, slightly grinning as he went to put on his helmet. Their moment in pause informed them both that they did not forget their wondrous morning a few days ago. She felt the butterflies bundle deep in her stomach again as it did the morning they spent together. Only this time she did not have time or privacy to act upon her desire.

Deeply sadden by her thoughts of when she would see Cody again, she solemnly smiled, placing her hand on his chest plate, "and with you commander...", before turning away towards her escorts.

"Excuse me...", She said pulling the two troopers out of conversation, "My name is Doctor Cross, I was pointed to your direction, I'm supposed to board the Resolute at 0800. You wouldn't happen to be escorting me by any chance?",

"...."

Both troopers didn't respond only stared. Odd enough as it was, Vera continued, "....or maybe I interrupted the wrong troopers..?", she backed up a little and apologized for the intrusion but before she could turn and walk away, one elbowed the other, "u-uh Yeah.. y-yes, I mean no, erghmm... ", the trooper with a blue handprint on his chest piece cleared his throat as he gently pounded on his chest. "-Were here to escort you to the cruise ship...ma'am", finally responding, "Im CT-5555, but everyone calls me fives, this is Echo.", the attention shifted to the other trooper who was clearly in his own world but was so clean you wouldn't think he was a trooper. "Yes.. uh, pleasure to meet you Doctor."

Even though she couldn't see their faces through the helmet, she could tell that they were nervous. Very nervous. They all shook hands after introductions but Vera checked the time only to see that departure was in less than 10 minutes. "The pleasure is mine. Small note, don't call me ma'am.....-" She motioned her hand towards the cruisers, "-Shall we?", and started walking towards the gates.

Both Fives and Echos looked at each other, their minds meeting the same conclusion about their new.. Medic. "Ma'am…? Really?", Echo whispered to Fives ,"Shut up", Fives countered pushing his shoulder, as he took his leave to catch up to the doctor.

"So... seems like you know your way around...", Fives shyly states gripping the back of his neck, trying to start conversation. He was under the impression she might've been here before after her 'show' with Commander Cody. But he dare not ask and she dare not tell. "No, but while you guys are gawking at each other. Im the one running late.", she states, pushing forward. "I wonder why you're late.." Fives uttered under his voice before he was bumped into by echo passively telling him to shut up. Sure shes a tad bit behind after running into the Commander but those two? 'Ridiculous. They were definitely shinies' she thought picking up her pace to avoid the tardiness.

When Echo caught up to both of her he interrupted by mentioning he knew a shortcut to the ship. "Here, follow me". After passing through the gate and into the main building, they cut through several different hallways of the main terminal building, invading foot traffic to get to the overlook of the base. Once they stepped outside from the building, Vera walked to the edge of the overlook, viewing the hundreds of Republic Cruisers lining up and taking off from a base that seemed like it spanned for miles. She was in awe from the sight, beholden by the fact that many of these troopers who board this day may not return the next. It was a heavy burden to have in ones heart, realizing that every single one of these ships were filled with inexperienced troopers.... she couldn't imagine what it was like for the clones. The feelings they have leaving from the one place they ever known into a galaxy full of fire and fear. War had no place in Vera heart and each second she spent there reminded her of the dangers that lie ahead for not only her but the men she is now deemed to heal and protect.

Gods, what her father would say now- even her sister...

Amiss her sadness, as she peered over the sunlit base she was gently interrupted, "Doctor, this way", Echo said waving in the direction him and Fives were headed. They continued, rushing down stairs to get to the ground floor that lead out to the loading docks for the cruisers. Vera checked her watch; they were just a couple minutes behind but nonetheless- "We're almost there. If Captain Rex says anything about us being late say that the elevator was out of service." Fives stated, "Like he'll believe that-", Echo chipped back, rolling his eyes at the obvious farce, "Why lie?", Vera wondered, trying to understand why they were so keen on a fib, "We were late because I was talking to the Commander…"

"I wouldn't call that talking.." Echo whispered to Fives who whole heartedly agreed. They pushed through the corridor to the assigned docking area and saw General Skywalker, his padawan, and Captain Rex standing at the entry point. "Sir!", the boys stood at attention saluting their leaders with Vera just slightly in front of them. "At ease boys", General Skywalker says as he walked up to Vera;

"My, my, look who's late." He announced folding his arms, "I was beginning to think you weren't coming", smirking at the young Doctor. She rolled her eyes and prayed he wouldn't be like this the entire stay. "Well considering you just walked up moments before I did, I could say the same thing for you... General" Vera kicked back returning the mischievous grin. Anakin laughed and the young togurta smiled exchanging glances with Rex, "As sassy and you are witty. You'll fit in just fine Doctor.", He turned to the young Togurta motioning her to join the conversation, "Let me introduce you to my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano."

"Its nice to meet you Doctor Cross.", the little padawan timidly said, checking out their new medic.

'She's so young', Vera thought concerningly as she kneeled down to her level, "How old are you little one", peering up into Ahsokas eyes, "I just turned 14", she responded. Obviously nervous but it would make sense being so small fighting a war this large.

"You are young but strong. I see the fire in you." She stood up and placed a hand on her head, " Its a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I look forward to knowing you miss Tano." At first Ashoka didn’t know what to think about the interaction. But something about the doctor gave her a warm feeling she couldn’t quitee put her finger on. All she knew is that she was there to help and that was enough.

"Ahsoka, I would like you to give a tour of the ship and introduce Vera to her quarters." Skywalker said as he began to walk off. Captain Rex normally would follow but just for a moment he stayed, still peering at Vera. Obviously, their last meet wasn’t the greatest and Rex wanted nothing more than to fix it. Due to his position he was required to fix it, especially since she is now his subordinate and another soul to protect. Trust was everything and as he stood there quietly, he finally made a move setting his hand on her shoulder, “I’m glad you decided to join, welcome to the 501st”. The Captain still had his helmet on, but when they made contact, their hearts nearly skipped a beat in sync, feeling the same fire, the same pull, as before. However, he stood pondering on this unknown affection and brought himself to his senses letting go of her shoulder before turning to follow General Skywalker.

Vera had no clue what happened but did find this goodbye a lot better than the last- she couldn’t help but smile. "What was that all about?", Ahsoka said raising an eyebrow, "I'm not entirely sure…” Vera responded, but wanted to see what Tano thought herself, “-you tell me little one." Vera continued smiling down at her with a warmth only she could give.

Ahsoka looked at Captain Rex walking away as he gently peeked back before disappearing into the cruiser with his men and General Skywalker. "Maybe he thinks you're pretty?", she wondered looking up at Vera. They both giggled as Vera rolled her eyes, contemplating the uncensored words she said, "Yeah maybe...". The thought of saying that made Veras heart flutter because if that was the case then maybe starting over with him wouldn't be so hard.

"Well I guess its just you and I! Come on let me show you around!", Ahsoka said excitedly walking towards the bridge door that lead to the ship. Vera at least felt at ease with little Tano. Though oddly enough, being around her kept sending flashbacks of her childhood with her younger brothers and sisters. The lack of their voices and presence in this world rendered her stomach distasteful and what hurt the most was their undying memory haunting her every footstep- even now. Nevertheless, her and Cersi survived and there was nothing more she could ask for, making her promise to her sister even stronger.

Leaving them behind was the hardest thing she had ever done. Even letting Cerci go with Amadala was hard but, going through this process means that both her and her little sister will be more protected and in the end? That was the goal.

After a tedious meet and greet between the many soldiers and medics on the ship including Kix who will become the new medic captain once training was over, she was finally introduced to her quarters. A moment she’s been desperately waiting for. "Here we are!", Ahsoka exclaimed. At first glance the quarters were barren. All that contained was a bed practically carved into the wall, a desk in the center of the room, and a counter against the back wall. The bathroom in retrospect was compact, only big enough to fit a standing shower, sink and a toilet. Despite its compact design, It was the largest room the ship had and it was the privacy which she was deeply grateful for in a ship full of testosterone. "Thank you little one." Vera smiled, placing a hand on Tanos head. "Anytime! Ill let you get settled. We are due to take off at 1700. If you'd like... we can go eat together in the mess hall after you're done?", She happily asked. "Sure, Ill comm you when Im finished here", Vera smiled as she watched Tano excitedly depart wondering why she was so giddy about her being there and as she began to trail off, she looked around the room- It was such an empty space and didnt feel like it was a home. I mean.. military rooms are not meant to resemble a home, she knew that, but it did not seem welcoming and that was for sure.

"I should start unpacking...", she said walking to the cargo container that had all the things she brought. After her meeting with Generals Kenobi and Windu a few days ago, she got to learn more about her positions and responsibilities but that doesn’t mean she had all the information she needed to be successful. She sifted through her belongings, looking for her data pad that contained more information about her deployment, "Ah found it", she grabbing the device and settled herself on the chair of the desk, swiping the thin layer of dust off before she began to read over the medical detachment and emergency applied medicine for the 501st.

Some time passed and it was nearly nighttime. After a whole lot of research, revisions and data entries to the medical unit, Vera glanced outside the ship window that was nearly as large as the room, watching as the sun started to set. "Only a few more hours till we take off...", she said not knowing when she would be back- or when she would see Cersi next. She closed her eyes and began to pray to her gods:

'Protos and Secundus, Hear me for Im about to journey into the unknown, I seek your guidance...'

The Gods were not something she quite believed in but after her ecpeience on her home world... if there was a chance they were still alive and listening she had to take it especially since now she’s off doing dangerous things and as she continued to pray, a tone from the door quietly pierces the room.

She opened her eyes and felt the fire again, simmering just lightly enough to release the butterflies that have been cooped up since being there. It was Rex. "Come in", she said gently still sitting at her desk. She put the holopad down and glanced back towards the door, seeing that Captain Rex has made his first visit. 'That didnt take long', she thought as she watched him take a couple steps into the room. He started by taking his helmet off but- his look… it seemed like he had nothing good to say and Vera was worried that maybe their argument turned into blind hatred . Of course, she didn’t want to judge too hastily, that’s what happened last time and clearly it didn’t turn out well. Maybe… maybe he just had a really good poker face?

The over thinking grew, which was her cosmic flaw but, deep down she knew a different side of him resided and that was the person she wanted to know. She inhaled and invited him forward as he came up to the front of her desk standing formally with his helmet on his side. She met his gaze and realized they were both on the same page about finding the right things to say. The long awkward silence consumed them both until finally Vera broke the glass and made a quick decision to just... apologize. "Captain-", she started blushing a little, fixing a strand of hair that fell from her loose updo but, before she could even continue, she was abruptly cut off with questions that simply threw her off. "Doctor Cross, I haven't been able to personally welcome you on board...How are you doing? Finding everything you need?", she stared for a moment, shocked that they didnt pick up from the last conversation they had. Was this his way of forgiving? If only she knew.

He waited for her response as she stood there wide eyed. She snapped herself out of her state, simply responding, "Im well Captain thank you for asking. Everything's fine on my part. Ill let you know if I need anything...." she grabbed the upper part of arm making her body language present at wanting something more than just this. The room suddenly got warm as Vera was thinking of the million ways she could just come out and apologize. However, little did she know, the awkwardness didn't go unnoticed. Rex smirked a little because he had already caught on that she wanted to apologize and quiet frankly he wanted nothing more but to apologize as well. They obviously had a bad initial meet and both of them wouldve never guessed theyd be in the same room days later. Apologizing almost turned into a responsibility at that point.

She slid her hand down her arm and started lightly grazing the top of her fingertips together trying to piece together the words she needed to express her regret to him... but where to begin-, "Captain I-",

"Wait", he interrupted, musking up the courage to speak first. He motioned a few steps closer placing himself just inches from you. "Theres something I need to say...", Vera freed her hands resting them at her side, relieved he clutched the opportunity before she did. He took a deep breath and continued, "What I said a few days ago to you.. It was uncalled for. I deeply apologize and personally... I.." He rubbed the back of his head as a light touch of pink grazed his cheeks. "I wanted to thank you for being here-", bravely enough he admitted to his resentment from their first conversation, "- I wasn't expecting you to say yes or even be here. Specifically- um..." he clears his throat and averts his gaze for a moment, recollecting himself before meeting her eyes with an assertive look. "If were going to be working together, Im hoping you would consider starting over..." Ahhh the guilt. Vera was overcome by the oblivious and insensitive things she had said to him. It most definitely wasn't her proudest moment and most importantly, it wasn't his responsibility to apologize for her crude statements.

"Captain I appreciate that but you have nothing to apologize for. I stepped over the line with my.. comments. It should be me asking for forgiveness...", She confidently met his look. Implicating the earnest of her statement. But the look began to fade when they registered how close they were to each other. He took a step back quickly regaining himself and his thoughts, "Look, the fact of the matter is you're here now. You being here proves that you do care and that much I respect", he said holding out his hand, "My name is Rex-", He offered his hand out to her. Vera couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the way she would've expected this to go, it just showed how good of Captain he is. Vera took his hand, "Either Captain or Sir?", they both let out small laughs, "Im Doctor Vera Cross...", she said letting go of his hand. "A pleasure.. Doctor."

'Finally", she thought instantly relieved. There was no more animosity or tip toeing around each other. Just something fresh and charming. Nevertheless, questions still remained. They definitely felt something and they were both determined to figure it out, but with these new conflicting feelings with Commander Cody? Her body language was being read again as the Captain realized she had other things on her mind. "We leave soon. Most of the troopers are heading to the cafeteria to eat before the next mission. But upper ranks like us eat somewhere else. I thought Id extend the invitation..", Vera snapped back to the moment and smiled. Appreciating the thought but Tano had asked a few hours ago and she didn't want to abandon her. "Sure Captain, although Ill have to meet you there. Ahsoka asked to eat together..." she responded. The Captain felt slightly upset that she already had plans but he would never let it show. Which was something he was inexplicably good at. "Okay. Ill see you there then", he put his helmet on and began to walk away. "Oh and Captain-", Vera said. He turned around in hopes that she would've changed her mind... instead, "Thank you...", she expressed softly as he gently gazed upon her seeing the sincerity in her eyes making him blush. Luckily he had his helmet on and now, though 'looking' at her became had newly became his guilty pleasure. He felt lucky for the armor. "Anytime.." he said smiling under his helmet before going about his way.

What bliss. Vera and Rex had their moment to start over. Moreover she realized that he felt as guilty as she did. In her prayers, she had mentioned her connection with Rex. What it was, why it was. "The force works in mysterious ways. Though I wonder what its plan is going forward." she said to herself as she pinged Ahsokas comm.

Shortly after dinner, the young padawan was called to the command bridge to plan the upcoming excursion for the capture of General Grievous, "I have to go Doctor, the lounge room is a few doors down if you like to check it out? You'll need this-" Ahsoka handed her a card with a red bar on the end, "only a select amount of people are allowed in the lounge. Most of the time Jedi use it to meditate and only some of the soldiers with higher rankings are allowed.... But its a great place to clear your mind", Vera obviously took her up on the offer and after saying their goodbyes, she made her way to a room that only contained a couple large windows, couch, and a small bar holding a couple bottles of very expensive whiskeys and wines. "How quaint. I guess this is where Coruscants investments go towards.", she said aloud feeling humbled that there wasn't anyone here which made sense since its a 'private access' room but it did feel rather lonely as she went to sit on the ledge of the window peering out as the ship began its grand adventure into darkness. She continued to watch as the ship broke the atmosphere delving into the grand mystery we call space, "Oh my..." Her eyes twinkled as the stars came into focus, glittering in the twilight of empty space as Coruscant began to fade. Everything sparkled in the darkness making you feel singled out in a void of nothingness though, Vera never minded that. Space was always such a curiosity for her.

"Its so beautiful...", she whispered to herself.

This was the second time she'd been to space. Bringing back unwanted memories but... things were different now. This was willing and she made a promise to herself as she peered out into the distance looking at the different colors of the stars that lit the universe, 'I will save as many as I can', placing her hand over her heart, swearing not only to protect but for salvation. She brought her attention to her reflection, thankful for all the little things that mattered that prepared her for this day. She wish her sister could see her now... and as she gleamed the door opened and in the reflection she saw none other than the Captain.

She instantly smiled

"Hello Captain.", She turned to him with a welcoming smile remaining in her spot as she wrapped her arms around her legs. The ledge was just big enough to do so and may have became her favorite spot on the entire ship. "Want some company?", he asked walking up to the bar pouring a couple drinks. "I wont complain..", She continued, looking out the window imagining all the worlds she would get to see good and bad. His footsteps trebled behind as he approached her, handing a whiskey glass and proceeded to sit across on ledge with her. "It never gets old.", he says sipping the amber colored whiskey peering out into the darkness with you, "and whats that?", she wondered as she brought her gaze to him. He was sitting on the ledge, facing her with one leg up and the other on the floor leaving an hand to hold the glass on his knee. He slowly leaned back against the wall and continued to look out simply responding, "the stars..", he took another sip giving a small laugh as he swirls his cup but as he looked up he saw Vera staring at him. "what?", he wondered raising a eyebrow taking another sip, "nothing, I just said something similar moments ago-", she swirled her drink around, smiling at her reflection. He loved the stars as much as she did and may have been the first thing they found in common. "The stars are no stranger to the universe yet, they remain one of the greatest mysteries in life... Regardless...", She took another sip, "Their beauty never gets old.." The whiskey warmed her chest but nothing warmed it more than the man sitting across from her and as they both agreed to their sentiments about the universe they sat there, quietly, enjoying their time together staring at the stars before the ship jumped into hyperspace,

taking them into the unknown.

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serennes-art · 2 years ago

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go play ai: the somnium files right now

#good freaking game #aiber #aitsf #ai: the somnium files #aitsf spoilers #aiba #kaname date #IM LATE TO PUTTING THIS ON TUMBLY... forgive me

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red-writes · 4 years ago

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soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest.

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment.

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss.

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream.

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

#boo writes 👻#shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader smut #shinsou smut #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso x reader #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinsou x reader smut #yandere shinsou x chubby reader #yandere shinsou x chubby reader smut #yandere bnha #yandere mha

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yuedama · 4 years ago

Text

at your mercy

hard dom!yelena x gn!reader (female bodied)

synopsis : you loved being good for yelena, but sometimes you couldn't deny the fact that you enjoyed her putting you in your place just as much.

content : nsfw, degradation, clit slapping, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial ; use of the word 'pet' like once

notes : jus want yelena to be mean to me and tell me i'm nothing

yelena hated having you come to her as she finished her work til the late hours of the night. it was distracting, she says, and you would only become a reason for her to be irresponsible.

there are times though when she considered it a test of your patience. and, well, restraint.

during the nights when you were needier than usual, she loved seeing just how long you would last without any of her attention, how long you could keep yourself from being bad and eventually touching yourself.

it was a tough game for you, but yelena enjoyed every bit of it; from the flustered look on your face as she catches you breaking the rules she had so carefully set, to the mewls and whimpers you gave her as you pleaded for her forgiveness.

she hated having to discipline you for your ill behavior, for she expected you to be good for her always, but she also wouldn't be lying if she were to admit how titillating it was to see you all sullied and glistening like a whore beneath her, rambling repeatedly about how sorry you were and that you wouldn't do it ever again. something about it fed the sadistic hunger inside her.

tonight was like one of those nights.

“what did i tell you about coming to my office while i'm working?” steel eyes bore into your meek form, menacing and unforgiving, yet lustful and hungry at the same time as she drank in every inch of your skin that was revealed by the skimpy nightdress you wore.

“that i would only distract you and that i should wait in our bedroom like a good pet....”

“and what are you doing right now?” her voice, despite being stern and cold with anger, did nothing to intimidate you, if anything, it only fanned the flames of excitement burning in your stomach.

“i-im...please, 'lena, i need you,” glossy eyes looked up at the blonde, silently hoping she would see the desperation behind them. she did see, she could tell without even looking at you for she knew you like the back of her hand; knew just how to reduce you into nothing but a filthy mess begging for her touch like it was all you've ever known. “need you so bad!”

“poor little thing,” mock pity laced her voice as she leaned back into her chair and rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her hand to take a good look at you once more. it took everything in yelena to not pin you down on the wooden table and devour you right then and there, the thin fabric hanging loosely on your body left little to the imagination.

“have you no dignity?”

you could only shake your head timidly at them, the ache in between your legs only seeming to become more intense with each passing second.

“c'mere.” they growled, low voice echoing in the room, but you were far too lost in your thoughts to hear her the first time. “i said come here you fucking slut.”

you scampered towards the woman and made yourself comfortable on her lap, peering at her eagerly as your hands held her shoulders for support. however, your fingers were slapped away from her shirt as soon as they got there, causing you to retract them as a stinging sensation bloomed.

“don't touch me with your filthy hands,” yelena seethed into your face, the tone in their voice making you rub your clothed cunt against her thigh.

“'m sorry...” your apology was sincere, but yelena seemed to have none of it. her stare remained indifferent, though you were sure you saw the slightest glint in them as she bent you over her lap. you let out a yelp at the sudden action, but as you peered up at her you were greeted by an all too familiar, condescending smirk.

“you're being very bad, you know that?” she drawled as she slowly, teasingly, traced a finger down the curve of your back, gripping the flesh of your ass harshly before pulling your underwear down to your ankles. goosebumps arose on your skin as the cool air in their office kissed your dripping cunt.

“stepping into my office looking all desperate to get fucked—” a slap made its way to your clit, causing a loud smack to resound in the room, followed by your shaky whimpers. the bud burned from the impact, but god did the burn feel so satisfying.

“putting your hands on me without my permission—” squeals tumbled out of your mouth as you receive another smack, the painful sensation of her fingers against your clit euphoric. your limbs flailed weakly, fists clenching and unclenching as you didn't have anything to grip on.

“and now your cunt's making a mess all over my pants,” long fingers ran across your folds as yelena gathered your slick, scoffing at the way your body trembled deliciously on her lap, before pushing your juices back into your hole without notice. your body jerked forward at the sudden intrusion, hands coming to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“y-yelena...mmph...” you shut your eyes, all inhibitions flying out the window as yelena repeatedly pushed her slender fingers in and out of your deprived cunt, curling them just a bit to tease your sweet spot. hot tears spilled down your cheeks as the stimulation became overwhelming, the blonde's ministrations easing the painful ache in your core in the slightest, just enough to rouse you to your high.

“fuck,” yelena laughed at your pathetic, twitching form, a sadistic glint flashing in her eyes as she watched the way your walls eagerly sucked her fingers. “you're so fucking greedy, i can barely pull my hand from your cunt.”

she sped up her pace, the pads of their index and middle finger brushing against your spongy spot as her other hand busied itself with groping your tit, sending you into a state of delirium. the lewd squelching of your walls along with your desperate pants for air resonated in the room as you felt the knot in your abdomen close to snapping.

your legs shook violently as you shut your eyes hard til all you could see was black, toes curling as a sign of your impending climax. the tension had been built for so long, and you could finally feel your release until—

“h-ha ah, yelena!” you cried as yelena withdrew their fingers from your dripping hole, voice raspy as your throat had gone dry from all the sobbing.

“look at your pathetic hole clenching around nothing.” your body, exhausted and limp, felt flush as you looked up at her and saw the way she was eyeing your entrance like it was the most intriguing thing she'd ever seen.

“y-yelena...why'd you do that?”

“ah, the filthy whore is speaking. you think you deserve anything after disobeying my rules?” yelena turned her head to meet your eyes, fingers gripping your chin as she pushed you off her lap and made you kneel between her legs. “you should be glad i even touched you; let alone give you my time.”

your swollen lips quivered as you looked up at her, cheeks wet and red, with slick weeping out of your hole.

“i promise i'll be good! just please, let me...”

“what? spit it out, i haven't all night,” she sneered at you with no interest, as though she was seeing dishrags and not her lover who was needy for her touch.

“please, let me c-cum.” you contemplated making any promises you were uncertain you could keep, though in your state, you were practically willing to do anything just for her to get you off. “i'll do anything, 'lena.”

yelena's eyes lit up at your proposal, a wicked smile spreading across her lips as you craned your neck to gaze at her just as a subject would to their god, devoted and completely at her mercy. the rumbling of your heart against your chest was loud as you anticipated her next words, watching her longingly as she licked her lips before parting them to speak.

oh, you were in for a long night.

#yelena aot #yelena x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #yelena smut #attack on titan smut #snk smut #shingeki no kyoujin smut #yelena drabble #yelena x reader smut #snk.%!

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Could you maybe write something for sukuna with a dom s/o? He’s so cocky and that just makes me wanna see him put in his place lmaoo

oh my god ❤️👅❤️ also im sorry this is so late hdvjahd im losing track of requests i am so sorry pls forgive me

nsfw under the cut, my loves! <3

━ he’d agreed to this. you desperately want to remind him that, especially with the way he won’t stop glaring at you like you’d committed treason. as you tighten the rope on his wrist, securing his arms to the headboard of the bed and limiting his movements, you lean back, and stick a tongue out at him childishly.

“you do realize you’re only going to make things worse for yourself if you keep squirming,” you point out, and push your hips rougher against his. sukuna huffs, his mouth twisting into a snarl as he continues to glare at you. the first thing you’d done when you’d managed to convince sukuna of this had been to stuff his pretty mouth with your underwear, and he’d fought against it, his canines tearing through some of the fabric. eventually, though, he’d relented, somehow, and fell back against the bed.

wanna see your cute self try, he’d said. you almost want to laugh at where he is now.

you’d considered a blindfold too, but being deprived of his noises was more than enough. besides, you wanted him to watch as you ruined him, picked up apart piece by piece. honestly, you weren’t even planning for anything grand or over the top, nothing that could make him back out should you ask of him of this a second time.

humming to yourself lightly, you drag your nails along his chest, tracing the dark markings, before you reach his nipples. your hands massage his pectorals, your thumbs dancing over his nipples as they harden beneath your featherlight touch. ever so slightly, his chest heaves, and without warning, you grab his nipple between two fingers and squeezing roughly, enough to shoot pain thoroughly through him and have his chest buck up into your touch the tiniest inch. you hum again, nonchalant about what you’d just done, before dipping your head, capturing the hard bud between your lips, before pushing past and encasing it between your teeth, tugging sharply.

sukuna grunts above you, his hips swaying as if to push you off. his arms strain from above him, and it’s not that he’s fighting to let himself free. he’s fighting so he doesn’t accidentally tear through the bindings. it’s another reason you weren’t too wary when sukuna had agreed, because you knew, at any given moment, he could push you away and let himself go. but here he is, succumbing to you, leaving himself as vulnerable as it gets. the idea drives you wild with power.

mouth still latched onto his nipple, you glance up at him, only to find his head thrown back, his jaw tight around the fabric in his mouth. your brows furrow with dissatisfaction, and you unlatch your lips, shuffling up to him to grab his jaw in your hands, roughly shifting his head to have him gaze at you. at the look in your eyes, his own widen, before he frowns deeper and fists his palms. “i want you to watch,” you order him, but he doesn’t listen, urging his chin out of your grasp suddenly and looking away. even rougher than before, you grab his chin again, your nails digging into his cheek as you stare into his eyes. “don’t be a fucking brat,” you spit out. “watch.”

once confirming for yourself that his eyes will remain on you, your mouth finds its way back to his chest. this time, instead of fixating on one single spot, you leave a trail of wet kisses and darkening bruises all along, licking and sucking on wherever you could, especially the areas where his moans went up an octave, like his lower abdomen. finally, you come face to face with his dick, straining hard and proud against his stomach, the tip oozing a steady flow of precum. you give your lips an anticipatory lick, and watch as his hips buck up in excitement, but instead of reaching for his dick, you place open mouthed kisses along his inner thighs, decorating and painting him pink and blue and purple. his grunts are louder now, more desperate and needy, less careful. he bucks his hips up again, and angrily, you sit up, placing your hand directly on his hip, right next to where his throbbing dick lies untouched and twitching.

“stay still,” you sneer, and he growls loudly. a few incoherent noises and words tumble out, but you don’t bother to try and understand, only mesmerized by the way drool has spilled on either side of his face, smeared by his constant movement. his cheeks and chest are flushed, nipples perked up and back slightly arched. he looks so good. lost in a slight daze, you lower yourself again to his dick, and slowly, you grab it. one steady hand grasps it at the base, and sukuna outright whines when he finally feels the pressure, his head thrown back momentarily. until you bring your other hand up to the tip of cock, and graze your fingernails along the weeping slit, the pink of the head so alluring.

sukuna’s eyes widen at the feeling, and he shifts his gaze back to you, watching as your nails and the tips of your fingers dance along the skin of the tip, your other hand occasionally squeezing the base. both your hands are wet and messy with precum, and sukuna, for a humiliating moment, wonders if you were actually capable of making him cum like this. the embarrassment flushes his face even redder, and his hips push against the mattress, trying to get away from your touch.

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you tease, tutting lightly. “for me to touch you?” your grip on his is so firm, no movement shifts you whatsoever. his eyes widen further as the telltale signs of his orgasm approach, and fuck, fuck, fuck he does not want to cum like this. you can hear his chest heaving harshly, the underwear in his mouth completely damp from his spit and drool. he continuously makes shocked and almost scared noises? it makes the heat between your legs strengthen.

you lean forward slightly and press the flat of your tongue against what isn’t being stimulated by your hands, the muscle in your mouth running along the ridges and veins of his cock. you can feel his cock twitch and throb and jump and it’s so beautiful, sukuna’s the most beautiful like this.

you are, however, quick to change your mind about that when, unexpectedly and surprisingly, he cums, thick spurts of it staining the fingers that had been tickling at his tip. it travels weakly down his cock, which remains hard as ever in your right grasp.

with a grin, proud and satisfied eyes meet his, and you see a single tear slip out of his eye. no, he’s much more beautiful like this. absolutely ruined.

end note; got way too carried away rip. but i hope this satisfies some of y’alls fantasies even if it’s a little ooc 😼

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #jjk sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #jjk sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

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pedros-mustache-main · 5 years ago

Text

when your love reaches me (iii)

summary: 1978 is decidedly not 2020. nor is your life ever the same when you meet a guitarist, curly haired, soft spoken, and true.

word count: 7.5k

warnings: angst, language, yearning for a man in his 70s (c’est la vie, i guess), over-describing a moment i’m very passionate about (sorry, not sorry! ten points to the person who can tell me what moment it is LOL)

a/n: wow—this gif? yeah, match made in heaven. thank you all so much for indulging me in this mini-series. i really am very proud of this silly little thing & i’m sad that it’s over because i enjoyed writing it so much. thank you to @im-an-adult-ish & @deacyblues for helping me work out the rough spots in this one. would love to hear everyone’s thoughts because i’m very ~emotional~ about this mini-series!! xoxo.

part i, part ii

in this final chapter: you must adjust because it’s not in your cards to be with him, is it?

you run your hands down your face, feel the ring on your finger catch along the end of your nose, and sigh. two months—two months without him. two months to adjust to world you once knew but happily left behind. two months to gather the pieces of the life which cruelly slipped through your fingers like water.

each day is the same. you rise early and take your coffee on the postage stamp terrace outside your flat. you watch the sun climb higher in the sky with each passing moment and let the warmth of your drink soothe the ache in your soul. you wash your breakfast dishes, mumble a good morning to rachel when she exits her bedroom to make her way to the shower, and dress for the day. you walk to campus if you have a class or take the underground to the museum if you have a shift. you come home, eat dinner, go to bed. repeat.

if rachel notices a change in you, she doesn’t say anything. in her mind, no time has passed between the morning where she asked you to come to the pub and the same evening you tumbled into the flat, drenched and sobbing.

but you—you’ve lost a year of your life. there’s no getting it back, and the only thing that proves it really truly happened is the ring on your middle finger, the necklace hanging by your heart, and the undeveloped rolls of film in your bedside table.

there are few words to describe the unbearable pain in your chest. anything and everything reminds you of brian: the whisper of the breeze in the autumn-heavy trees; the feeling of your warmest cardigan around your shoulders; the sound of someone laughing in the museum.

but there’s more:

the scent of cigarette smoke reminds you of roger. the sight of two friends ribbing one another in a grocery store reminds you of crystal. a colorful jacket makes you think of freddie, a whispered snide remark takes you back to john, and two girls giggling reminds you of giddy moments with anna.

around every corner you turn there’s a memory you cannot avoid, and it hurts—desperately, keenly, deeply.

so you push it all away and soldier on, quiet and downtrodden. it’s easier that way. maybe, if you forget, you can move on and make it through life without him.

six months after you’ve left brian behind, you’re approached by your boss at the museum with an opportunity you’d only ever dreamed of: the chance to create and prepare your own exhibit.

monica is firm when she offers you the south wing to reshape as your own. “blow this out of the water, [y/n], and there will be a job as assistant curator waiting for you after graduation. i want something fresh and exciting. think you can manage?”

you agree without hesitation.

for the first time in a long time, you can’t help but smile to yourself. this is your chance to put everything you’ve learned to good use, to put something tangible in your portfolio, to make a name for yourself.

you’re buzzing with excitement and have to practically hold rachel hostage as you spout your myriad of thoughts and ideas. she’s your sounding board, even if she doesn’t want to be, but she’s honest where it counts most, and you’re grateful for that.

she glances over the kitchen table, laden with open magazines, cutout photos, and history books. her brow puckers. “this is... really boring, [y/n],” she says with a cringe, looking up with her blue eyes and freckled face.

your shoulder droop. “that’s it? that’s all you have to say?”

she shrugs and reaches for a photo, inspecting it with a critical gaze. “i mean, ancient textiles might be interesting to you and maybe five other people, but it isn’t exactly blowing me out of the water.”

dropping to the seat across the table, you huff. “well, we’re a photography museum, rachel. it’s not like i can whip up a few outfits and put them on mannequins.”

“excuse me, but fashion design is just as artistic as curating a museum—if not more so.” she sighs and puts the photo of a thirteenth century chinese table linen on the table. “there must be something else you’re interested in? something that other people will like just as much?”

you don’t mean to, but you let your eyes trail to the camera sitting on on the tv stand. you’d left it there after your return, uncertain where to put it. sometimes you catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of your eye and then you remember the tubes of film in your bedroom, undeveloped and unseen.

rachel follows your gaze. “you know, you never told me where you got that.”

“it was a gift.”

“oh really? from who?”

you’re slow to answer. the truth sits on the tip of your tongue—the man i love, the man i was going to marry—but you bite it back. “my great-aunt. she left it to me... in her will.”

you aren’t sure what compels you to retrieve the six rolls of film from your bedroom, but you do. the tubes feel heavy in your palm and clang against the table as you put them down. rachel looks at them then back at you, waiting.

“she gave me these, too.”

“i didn’t know you had a great-aunt.”

“we weren’t close.”

“obviously you were close enough to get these things.” rachel lifts one of the tubes, turning it over in her palm. “wonder what the pictures are.”

“i’m not sure,” you lie. “maybe they could make an exhibit.”

“i think you’d have to develop them first then make that decision.” she rises from the table and shrugs on her coat. “i’ve got a date, so don’t wait up. and try not to let this consume you too much? you’ve been down and out lately. i think the work will do you good, but don’t let it take over, yeah?”

you nod and wish her well on her date. she leaves the flat in a flourish, leaves you to the tubes of film and the growing curiosity in your stomach.

you really should get them developed. if not for an exhibit, then for yourself. an entire year of your life is in those tubes, and you deserve to see the photos you’d taken to preserve that time.

it’s been six months. you’ve purposefully distanced yourself from anything and everything related to queen, be it a simple news story, a song on the radio, or any of roger or brian’s social media posts. it hurts to see them, to know that they’re so close yet so far away, that they have no idea what became of you all those years ago in japan.

still, it’s been six months. developing the film might be your first step toward a sense of closure. you don’t want to stay in your rut forever. though you’re comfortable with the idea that brian might be your great love and you’ll never find another, you know you can’t stay as you are, sullen and despondent. it’s like a break-up, really. you’re sad, heartbroken over the loss, but you know it’s time to step out of the hurt and into something different.

before you can stop yourself, you grab the rolls of film, your purse, and your jacket, and you head for the nearest photo shop.

a few hours later, you return with a heavy packet of freshly-printed photographs and a usb drive full of digital scans. there’s over two hundred photos to sort through, and you’ve yet to see one.

flipping on the light to your living room, you sit down beside the coffee table, a glass of wine at your side, the table cleared of any lingering books or empty teacups. before you open the packet of photos, you open your laptop and type your search into the search bar. if you’re going to quell your curiosity tonight, you might as well quell all of it, and you’re dying to know what happened after you left.

a simple internet search confirms what you already know: your presence within the group on the jazz tour did not alter any significant events. freddie still passed away, john still retired. a further search yields at least one previously nonexistent queen song written by brian may: “into thin air.” it was released in the album following jazz. you can’t bring yourself to listen to it, not yet. a deeper search unearths an interview brian gave a year or so after you left. the interview was published in a magazine editorial covering of each of queen’s band members and their lives when not on tour or recording. after freddie’s bit, there’s a photograph of brian at the top of a new page. he’s smiling, but he looks weary and he mentions you only once: “i was engaged for awhile, but that ended in an unfortunate circumstance, so to answer your question: no, i’m not looking for love. not right now, anyway.”

you close the laptop and lean back against the sofa. the ring on your finger feels heavy. your eyes fill with unshed tears, and you decide the photos can wait to be seen until tomorrow.

the packet of photos ends up sitting on the coffee table for two weeks before you invite your co-worker, shamik, over for wine and cheese and museum gossip. shamik is kind, a first-generation immigrant from india with personality to spare and an exuberance for all things american. he claims it’s his greatest curse that his parents brought him to britain as a baby instead of america, and it’s something he can never forgive them for. you’ve only interacted with shamik at work, but when you mention your exhibit project, he’s eager to offer his help. with no new ideas outside ancient textiles, you’re willing to take whatever advice or ideas he has.

sitting beside him on the couch, you spread your collection of papers and pictures on the table to explain your vision. he listens dutifully, nodding along, his eyes scanning the 3-d projection you’ve made of what the exhibit might look like once completed. when you’ve finished your spiel, he sets his wine glass down and nods to the packet of unopened photographs on the edge of the table.

“what’s that?”

you frown, shaking your head at the sudden turn in conversation. “sorry?”

he reaches for the manilla envelope. “oh, it’s hefty! what’s in here?”

you sigh and take the packet from his hands. it feels solid in your lap, like a brick. “photos from my great-aunt.”

he points to the sealed flap. “it’s unopened.”

“i haven’t gotten the chance to look through it yet.” setting the packet to the side, you raise your eyebrows. “well, what do you think? about the exhibit?”

“honestly? it’s dull. monica won’t be impressed.”

you throw yourself back against the couch with a groan. “what the hell,” you whisper. “i’ve got no ideas then.”

you know ancient textile photography would not be the most enticing exhibit, but it’s been an interest of yours for some time and would be easy enough to complete. shamik and rachel’s reactions do not bode well, you have to admit. having a job as an assistant curator right out of the gate would be beyond marvelous, and you desperately don’t want to screw it up with a boring first exhibit.

“let’s have a look at these pictures from your aunt!” before you can stop him, shamik reaches across your lap for the photo packet and rips open the top. “maybe that will spark some ideas?”

you lean forward, blush already rising to your cheeks as he pulls out the first picture. “oh no, shamik, i don’t know if—”

“holy shit!”

you shut your eyes, wincing.

“that’s fucking freddie mercury!” shamik grabs your shoulder, his fingers digging into your flesh. “did you know about this, [y/n]? that’s your aunt with freddie mercury!”

forcing your eyes open, you look at the photo trembling between his fingers. it’s a picture of you sitting beside freddie on the tour bus. (you think john took the photo in an effort to get you to stop taking photos of him when he was asleep while roger and crystal placed as many items on his head as they could before he fully awoke.) your head is against freddie’s shoulder, your eyes droopy with sleep. a lump rises in your throat, and all you can do is shake your head in feigned disbelief as shamik continues to shuffle through the photos.

“oh my god, your aunt was a groupie,” he cries, passing you another photo.

“i guess—” you clear your throat. “i guess she was.”

“you know”—shamik sets the pile of photos down and spreads them across the table, obscuring your vision of an ancient textiles display—“this would make a great exhibit.”

“shamik—” your voice is a warning, a sudden surge of anger rising in your chest, but he continues.

“no, really, [y/n]! there are so many photos here that tell such a cutesy little story. i mean, come on? freddie and this cat?” he lifts the photo in question. “it’s stuff people have never seen before from a totally different side of queen. it’s a fucking goldmine!”

“absolutely not,” you say. “i will not put my aunt’s personal affairs on display.”

“think of monica, [y/n]! think of the job!”

“no, shamik!” you stand from the table and drop your plates in the kitchen sink with a resolute clatter. “i barely knew my aunt, but i know enough to gather that her time with queen was private. she didn’t say anything about it until she died. that’s got to mean something, and i don’t want to air it all out for everyone to see and speculate and gossip about just for my own personal gain.”

you’re shouting, fists clenched at your sides, by the time you finish. shamik just stares at you, his face blank and unreadable. he glances down at a photo.

“she looks a lot like you,” he says, his voice even.

you huff and take the wine glasses from the table. “we’ve got strong family genes. now, please, i’d appreciate it if you just drop the whole queen thing. we can find some other idea.”

you gather the photos, shove them back in the folder, and toss the envelope in the nearest drawer you can find. the drawer slams shut, and you leave the photos there to gather dust.

you mull over shamik’s idea of an exhibit based on your photos for a month before you finally relent. monica’s riding your ass daily with questions about your progress. you need to get something down on paper for her to give to the contractors, so you begrudgingly type out a response to her most recent email:

monica,

i’ve landed on an exhibit topic at last. took me long enough, right?

i’ve recently come into possession of a series of photographs taken by my late great-aunt. turns out she was a groupie with the band queen in the ‘70s. my exhibit will be centered around those photos. i’m thinking the exhibit will be titled “queen: unfiltered.” do with that what you will. :)

monica, much to your dismay, loves the idea and sends you right to work on gathering and laying out your vision while she begins the necessary promotion.

it hurts at first—looking at all the photos you took, remembering the way you felt so unearthly happy during that year. you cry each time you sit down to sort out the best of the pictures. the ones which capture a moment of levity amongst the band or are particularly well-shot go in a pile on the left. the ones which didn’t develop well or are too intimate for you to ever consider putting on display go in a pile on the right. your bedroom floor is a mess of drafted captions written on slips of printer paper, photographs with notes scrawled along the back, and used tissues. more than anything, you wish you could step into the world behind those photographs. you want to be back there—with him, with them—until you grow old and gray. knowing you can’t, that you won’t ever see him again, tears you apart inside.

but it helps. the exhibit forces you to acknowledge the time you spent with brian, with queen. instead of leaving the photos in a drawer, they confront you everyday as you sit down to work, and everyday it gets a little bit easier to face your past. as the tears subside, you find yourself laughing whenever you find a new photo of roger’s antics. your heart doesn’t clench as much when you run across another photo of you and brian. you can smile now when you look at his face. he really was so handsome...

you go so far as to frame your favorite photograph of your time together and place it on your dresser. he’s got his arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin settled on the top of your head. you’re laughing, your hands folded on his arms, legs crossed as you tilt to the side. he’s making a face, his tongue stuck out at the camera, and every time you pass by the picture, you can’t help but chuckle.

you love him still. you’ll love him always.

with three weeks before the opening of the exhibit, the stress is starting to get the better of you. you’ve bitten your nails down to the quick, there’s heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep, and you can’t remember the last time you consumed something other than coffee. despite the stress, you feel lighter. working through the photos, laying them out in order, writing the captions, pouring over the faces of the ones you love so dearly—it’s all helped ease the burden in your heart. for the first time in a long time, you slip out of bed in the mornings with a newfound sense of energy and purpose.

life will go on. just as you did when you fell into the past, you will find a new future.

arms laden with exhibit proposals and mock-ups, you brush into your local coffee shop—pretty bird—intent on getting some real work done on choosing the final photographs before you send them off to be printed. you order your usual and take a seat by the front. the air which wafts through the open window at your side is warm with spring and rebirth, and you breathe deep, cracking open the lid of your laptop. you manage to pick a total of twelve of the seventy-six needed photographs before you’re interrupted.

“whatcha workin’ on?” matthew, barista extraordinaire and casual acquaintance, sits down on the bench across from you. he has his own cup of cold brew poised between his lips, and the piercing in his eyebrow wiggles as he moves his brow up and down.

“an exhibit for the museum,” you say, pausing to roll your tight shoulders. “it’s my first.”

“do tell!”

you explain, briefly, how to came to acquire your dead aunt’s photographs and the general theme of the showcase. he nods in approval then snaps as if he’s remembered something.

“hold on. stay right there. i’ll be right back.” he puts his coffee down, scoots off of the bench, and darts to the back of the coffee shop. you wait and listen to the sound of the birds twittering outside before he returns with a framed picture in hand. “i just learned about this,” he says, taking his seat again. “this building used to be a disco back in the 70s.” he hands you the frame and points to a collection of people in the middle of a disco bar. “that’s queen. they came here once and somebody had the smarts to take a picture.”

your hands shake around the photograph, eyes darting from one corner of the picture to another.

matthew keeps talking. “the place was called climax. can you believe that? the 70s were fuckin’ wild, mate.”

you nod, lips parted, and skim your fingers over the incredibly tall and recognizable form of brian in the center of the photo. you can see your shoulder, jammed between freddie and crystal, but the rest of your body is obscured. you lift your eyes from the frame and glance around the coffee shop, at the exposed metal beams and vaulted ceilings, at the disco ball still hanging in the center of the room.

makes sense now. why the building had felt so eerily familiar back then.

handing matthew the picture frame, you sit back in your chair. “wonder if my aunt ever came,” you say.

“maybe? sounds like she was in pretty tight. you know who you could ask?” you shake your head, uncertain of matthew’s question. “chris taylor. he was a roadie back then. he’s a regular here. comes in at least twice at week.”

you can’t stop the hand that flies to your mouth in surprise. you try to smother your gasp with a cough, but matthew still stares at you like you’ve sprouted another head.

“you okay?” he asks warily.

nodding, you take a sip of your drink. “yeah, yeah, sorry! wrong pipe.”

“so, do you want to meet him and ask about your aunt?”

everything in you screams to say no. it’s too dangerous. you will surely break the moment you see him. crystal became your lifeline apart from brian during that year. he was your brother, your partner in crime, the one who kept you grounded when things got too wild. just knowing that he’s frequented the same coffee shop as you for the last six months brings tears to your eyes. you could have run into him. hell, you might’ve already. still, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to make it through a proper meeting without spilling your guts and apologizing for the way you left.

“[y/n]?” matthew pulls you from your thoughts. “what do you think?”

you hesitate before shrugging. you speak before you can stop yourself, before the rational and reasonable part of you can take over. god, you need this. if it’s your only opportunity for true closure, you’ll take it. “if he’s up to it then... sure.”

matthew grins. “come in tomorrow. i’ll introduce you!”

that night you toss and turn. you’re plagued with anxiety. will crystal recognize you? if he does, what will he say? will he be angry? what if he tells brian and then—

your bedside alarm goes off just as you fall asleep. it’s a struggle to drag yourself out of bed, but you must. there’s closure somewhere around the corner, and if you just move your ass, you’ll find it. you have one class this morning then your meeting with crystal. you’re jittery by the time you leave class, but you chalk that up to drinking two cups of coffee before leaving your flat and one in class.

it’s drizzling as you make your way to the coffee shop. you hasten your steps, head bent against the rain and fingers curled around the strap of your bag. when you enter the shop, it’s nearly empty aside from a few lonesome students studying in far off corners. you can hear the faint thrill of music over the loudspeakers, but the blood that’s rushing to your ears blocks out most of the melody.

crystal’s already here, leaning against the counter, in conversation with matthew.

you stop in your tracks. he’s bald now, slightly pudgier with age, but he looks every bit as devilish as you remember.

you swallow past the fear in your throat and the anxiety in your veins and step forward. you voice wobbles when you speak. “matthew?” you direct your entrance to your friend because if you come right out and say crystal’s name, you will surely fall over in a puddle of emotion.

“there you are!” matthew jumps over the counter in one easy leap and lands to the floor beside you. he drapes his arm around your shoulders and motions to crystal. “[y/n], i’d like you to meet chris taylor. chris, this is [y/n], the girl i was telling you about.”

crystal’s staring at you through his blue-tinted glasses like he’s seen a ghost. his jaw has gone slack, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to formulate a sentence.

you shove your hand into the space between you. “nice to meet you, mr. taylor.”

looking between matthew and yourself, he gathers himself, clearing his throat, and shakes your hand. “you too.”

“should we sit?” you motion to the same table you occupied the day before. “i can buy you a coffee for your troubles.”

he shakes his head and lifts his cup. “already got mine.”

“all right, well...” you glance at matthew.

“do you want your regular?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

“comin’ right up.”

crystal follows you to the table and sits down, his movements slow. for a moment, you sit in silence and allow his eyes to roam your face. you can’t tell if he knows it’s you or if he thinks it’s just a coincidence. you want to reach out and take the hand he rubs across the bridge of his nose, but you fold your fingers in your lap.

“thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” you finally say.

“you aunt,” he starts.

“yes, my aunt.” you pull a photograph out of your bag. it’s one of the few you took with crystal all those years ago. he’s got you in a headlock, his opposite fist grinding into the top of your skull. you slide the picture across the table. “you knew her?”

crystal lifts the photo, inspects it, before putting it down. he sighs, shaking his head. “i loved that woman. broke my heart when she left.” his gaze lifts from the table. “you look like her, have her name too.”

you look away, out the window at the side. there’s bird fluttering in a puddle on the sidewalk, and you watch it for a moment before turning back to him. “i think my mother loved her a great deal. i didn’t get the chance to know her, though. we only just found these pictures recently.”

his eyes narrow. “i mean, you really look like her.”

you force a smile. “thank you. that’s kind of you.” shifting, you tap your finger on the table. “i know her leaving wasn’t exactly...” you struggle to find the proper word, but he jumps to assist.

“natural?”

“well, i was going to say easy, but—”

“she fuckin’ disappeared! excuse my language.” huffing, he drops back against his chair. “one minute she was there, the next minute she was gone. i swear, i’ve never seen anyone skip town that fast.”

“she didn’t say anything about leaving?”

“why would she? she was engaged! she had no reason to leave that i know of.”

“was she happy?”

“hell yes. her and brian—i’ve never seen two people more fit for one another. brian just about lost his mind trying to find her, but it was like she never existed. strangest thing.” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee, looking askance, before his eyes whiz back to yours. “oh my fucking god.”

you look up, fear sparking in your belly. “what?”

“[y/n]?”

you blink. your head feels dizzy with the way he’s looking at you, like he’s about to jump across the table and throttle you or hug you so tight your insides might squeeze out of your body.

“fuck,” he breathes. “it is you.”

“i don’t know know what you’re—”

“don’t play dumb with me!” he leans across the table and lowers his voice. “i was the one who got you that phony passport, remember? i always wondered why i couldn’t find your credentials. had to lie my way through it until i got the damn thing. you’re lucky everything was so lax in the 70s.” he shakes his head. “how’d you do it?”

there’s part of you that wants to deny, deny, deny.

but it’s crystal. you can’t lie to him any more than you already have.

“i had no choice in the matter,” you say plainly. “one minute i was here, the next minute i was there, and the next minute i was here again.”

his jaw works back and forth as he processes the information. “does brian know?”

“no—and i’d like to keep it that way.”

“i thought we might lose him after you left.”

you twist the ring on your finger. “if i’d had the choice, i would have stayed. i hope you know that.”

crystal nods. “yeah, i do.” he holds your gaze then motions to your bag. “so, this exhibit matthew told me about. you’re publishing all those photos you took?”

“yes. there are some pictures i’ve saved for myself, but my boss, monica, she got permission from the record label to go ahead with the others. it opens in three weeks.”

“i’ll be there if i can. i’d like to see those pictures.”

you smile, your first earnest smile of the day. “you feature many times.”

he ducks his head like an embarrassed schoolboy. “we were thick as thieves, weren’t we?”

“you and roger were thicker, but i’d like to think i had a part to play some of the time.”

he lifts his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “you know, when i said i loved you, i meant it. not in the way brian did. you were like a kid sister to me. i cared for you a great deal.”

before you can stop yourself, you slip your hand across the table to grasp his worn fingers. his shoulders shake on another sigh, and he lifts his opposite hand to wipe at his eyes beneath his glasses.

“oh, crystal. i’m so sorry,” you whisper. it hurts to see him cry, to know that you’re the cause behind his pain.

he waves your apology away, sniffing hard. “i’m just glad to know you’re okay. we thought you might’ve gotten picked up or—” he shakes his head and pats your hand over his, meeting your eyes. “you’re okay, though. that’s what matters.”

“will you really come to my exhibit?”

“anything for you, kid.” he thumbs the underside of your chin with a lopsided grin. “even after all this time, i’m putty in your hands.”

you grin and hand him a business card, which he tucks in the folds of his wallet. rising from his seat, he opens his arms and you practically trip into his hug. he holds you tight for the briefest of moments before pulling back. he pats your cheek.

“i’ll see you in three weeks, yeah? if i stay any longer i’ll end up a sobbin’ mess on the floor.”

you nod. “yeah. and, crystal?” he turns at the door. “don’t tell brian. please.”

he leaves without another word.

the day of the exhibit opening you are equal parts thrilled and a nervous wreck. everyone’s here—your family, rachel, shamik, even matthew. you haven’t seen crystal amidst the crowd mingling in the lobby, but you trust him to show. he’s always been reliable, and you doubt he’ll fail you now.

monica squeezes your shoulder as she passes you by in the staff hallway. “it looks wonderful, [y/n]. consider yourself hired,” she says and hands you a keycard. “i’m going to give you a piece of advice i got when i completed my first exhibit: go have a moment by yourself. look at your work, be proud of it. you deserve it.”

with trembling fingers and a racing heart, you make your way down the corridor to the south exhibit hall. due to a celebratory lunch with rachel the day before, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the room in its final state. in retrospect, you’re thankful for the chance to see it for the first time alone. at least this way, if you cry, no one will have to know.

the door beeps as it unlocks, and you slip inside the room. you descend the handful of stairs which lead into the showroom floor and suck in a deep breath.

before entering the exhibit, there’s a wall to the side with a simple explanation written in a white font:

queen: unfiltered — this exhibit preserves and presents never-before-seen images of the popular band, queen, through the eyes of an unnamed woman who spent a year traveling the world on queen’s jazz album tour. her images are intimate yet distinctive and offer a personal glimpse into the lives of one of britain’s most well-known bands.

at the far end of the room hang four banners spanning floor to ceiling. the banners wave gently in the air blowing throughout the room, illuminated from lights on the ceiling and floor. each banner hosts an oversized photo of one of the band’s members in an image that best captures their personality. it took you hours to find the right photo for each man, but you stand by your choice for each one.

there’s john on the far left, head bent as he strums the bass across his knee. his lips are pursed in thought, a line of concentration on his brow.

there’s freddie next to him. he stands in a spanish alley way, cradling a stray cat in his arms. he looks serenely on at the camera, a rare moment of simplicity.

there’s brian sat in an overstuffed armchair, his gangly legs crossed, a book open on his lap. he has the corner of his thumb in his mouth, and if you squint you can see the edge of his tongue.

there’s roger on the far right. he’s smiling at the camera, his eyes bright with mischief and joy. there’s a party hat snug on the crown of his head, pulling the skin of his forehead taut.

on opposite sides of the room, two parallel rows of twelve photos hang in neat order. you decided to have every photograph in the exhibit printed in black-and-white and, in all, you painstakingly picked the forty-eight photos featured in their simple white frames. you walk along the wall, hands clasped at your waist, eyes running over the memories you hold so dear.

the afternoon crystal taught you ride a bike in barcelona: you’re sat on the handlebars after a hard fall, mouth open in a squeal of delight as crystal whips toward the camera.

roger and john tossing an apple back and forth in an ottawa grocery store: john’s smile is broad, the apple caught on film midair.

brian sitting on the floor of your hotel suite: there’s a tray of sushi at his feet, and he’s smiling at you, his hair wet from a shower.

freddie playing the piano in the airport in yugoslavia: he’d been so excited to see one, his shoes had slipped on the slick floor as he ran to it. he’d played dramatically, conducting those around him in a horrible rendition of “god save the queen.”

your eyes sting with tears as you glance about the room. you’re proud of your work. it looks good, professional and elegant, but more than that, you’re proud of yourself for the work you’ve done in mending your broken heart. though you will never live the life you’d once dreamed of, you will always have the memories—and that’s got to count for something.

when the double-doors open and monica ushers the first of the patrons in, you slip into the closest bathroom to wipe at the makeup smudged under your eyes. you’re happy, truly so, and you want to celebrate—celebrate both of your lives as they finally come together.

the room is crowded when you reenter, conversation and gentle laughter mingling in the air. you accept a tight hug from rachel when you see her and the congratulations of your parents. you can’t stop smiling, and you’re sure your face will hurt come morning, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

your parents float away, hand in hand, and you find yourself alone in the center of the room, watching in awe as people you’ve never met look at your photos, at your memories, and nod in appreciation. your chest swells with an emotion you can’t place.

“i think this calls for a congratulations. you’ve outdone yourself, dove.”

you whirl on your heel, lip caught between your teeth in a poorly-concealed smile. “you came.”

crystal grins. the tie of his suit is rumbled and askew, and you reach out to straighten it. old habits die hard. “i said i would.”

“what do you think?”

“i think it’s fantastic. the lads would be proud.”

“maybe.” you shrug. “guess we’ll never know.”

“are you really so intent on staying hidden forever?”

you nod. “yes. it took everything in me to even talk to you. i don’t want to ruin their lives again by popping back up, especially because i’m not exactly old, am i?”

crystal laughs, shaking his head. “you must think you’re hot stuff if a simple hello could ruin a life.” his laughter fades into a simple smile. “now, i know you’re going to hate me and i’m willing to take that, but i did tell a certain someone about the exhibit.”

you can feel the blood drain from your face. “crystal, you didn’t.”

he winces. “i might’ve.”

you slap his arm and curl your fingers into his bicep. “you bastard!”

he holds up his hands in defense, decent enough to plaster a look of contrition on his face. “look, i didn’t tell him the context or what tipped me off. i just told him there was a new exhibit about queen and he was eager to come see. that’s all!”

you swallow hard, uncertain how to respond. “i—” your head twists back and forth in utter confusion. “i don’t know what to do.”

crystal’s face softens, and he nudges your shoulder. “go talk to him. he deserves that much, doesn’t he?”

you can’t argue with that.

giving crystal’s arm a grateful squeeze, your legs shake beneath you as you turn and see him—brian—across the room.

you don’t know how you didn’t see him before. even now, forty years later, he’s still unmistakeable: still tall, still gangly, but his hair has gone white and his strides are slower. the overwhelming urge to tear across the room and curl yourself around his back nearly overpowers you, but you shove it down and manage to cross the floor in slow, even steps. you keep your eyes glued to his back, your hands twitching at your sides. when you reach him and catch a faint whiff of his cologne, the same he wore all those years ago, you have to push back the tears that rise unbidden to your eyes.

you tap his shoulder. “dr. may?”

he circles around, as does his wife anita, her arm snug in his elbow.

brian blinks hard, his brow furrowed in confusion. for a moment, you let him stare at you as you stare right back. his eyes are the same. you’d thought they’d be different, but they aren’t. the realization stuns you silent.

anita glances between you both before smiling sweetly. “good evening, sweetheart,” she says, and her voice is so kind you can’t even summon the slightest bit of jealousy. “i’m afraid i didn’t catch your name.”

“oh, i’m sorry!” you laugh and find that smiling at anita isn’t hard. “my name’s [y/n] [y/l/n]. i created the exhibit. i thought i might come and introduce myself.”

“oh, how lovely!” anita claps her hands together. “what you’ve done is so beautiful, [y/n]. it’s nearly brought a tear to my eye.”

“that’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

“brian likes it too. don’t you, brian?”

he still can’t seem to formulate any sort of response. he’s frozen in place, and your heart lurches for him. to see the woman he’d once asked to marry him, the one so cruelly ripped away, while standing next to his wife... precisely why you never wanted to meddle in his current affairs.

finally, he seems to collect himself. he sucks in a deep breath and nods in agreement. “yes, i do. very much.”

“that means a lot,” you say, easing your smile back into place. “thank you.”

“i’ll leave you two to talk to for a moment. i see crystal hovering in the corner over there, and i’m sure you both have many questions for one another.” anita presses her hand on your arm as she passes. “lovely job, dear.”

she leaves, and you’re left alone with the greatest love of your life.

you wait for him to speak.

“you’re... alive?” it’s a question, not a statement.

“yes.”

“you’re the same age?”

“yes.”

“how did—” he shakes his head. “i don’t understand.”

“neither do i.”

his chin quivers slightly, and he looks away. “i thought you’d been taken or decided to—”

you dare to touch his arm. a spark jolts through your fingers at the slightest touch, but you hold firm. “nothing happened,” you explain. “other than nature righting her mistake.”

“i think—i think i need to sit down.”

“yes, of course. my office is down the hall. it’s quiet there.”

he nods and leans against your arm as you lead him down the hall. in the silence of your dimly lit office, he collapses to the loveseat beneath the window and drops his face to his hands. you hesitate in the doorway until he looks up. tears shimmer in his eyes, and you swallow hard, your smile wavering around the edges.

he stands then, crosses the floor, and cradles your face in his hands. “my god,” he breathes. “it really is you.”

with a laugh, you hold his wrists. “in the flesh.”

“how long’s it been?” his thumb works over your cheekbone and, though you know he should stop, you can’t bring yourself to step away from his touch.

“about seven months.”

he snorts. “try forty years.”

“you seem like you did well for yourself, though.”

he shrugs. “i suppose.”

“you’re happy?”

there’s a heavy pause before he says, “yes.”

“that’s all i want to hear.”

slipping out of his grasp, you put a modicum of space between you both. the air is thick with emotion, and your heart beats wildly against your chest. the love you thought you’d put to bed flares at the mere sight of him, even after all this time.

you drift your finger through the sand of your tabletop zen garden. “i told crystal not to tell you about me,” you admit.

“he didn’t—not in so many words.”

“i know. i’m glad he said something, though.” you pause, meet his gaze. “it’s so good to see you, bri.”

quiet falls over the room as he stares at you. you don’t squirm. you’re comfortable under his gaze, always have been.

“i hope you know i never stop looking,” he says. “even after anita, i kept trying to find you. just to know.”

“and i hope you know that i would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant i got to be with you even for a time.”

your phone vibrates on the desk, skidding across your oversized calendar. you reach for the phone and flip it over before slipping it in the purse hung over your desk chair.

“i’ve got to go,” you admit, crossing to his side. “i’ve actually got a date.”

to your surprise, his eyes crinkle with amusement. “i’m happy to hear it.” he lifts a hand and smooths back the hair from the side of your face. he looks at you with all the love he did forty years ago, and you wish you could take a picture to remember forever.

but then you remember: you have dozens of photos at home, and it doesn’t seem too hard to let him go now. not after the work you’ve put into mending your heart. you can face this, face saying goodbye for good. you have to, for his sake and your own.

rising to your tiptoes, you place a hand on his shoulder and kiss the corner of his mouth—one last touch, for you both. you wind your arm around his neck and whisper in his ear, “i love you, brian may. i always will.”

he squeezes you hard against his body, sucking in a ragged breath. “i love you too, [y/n].”

dropping back to your heels, you huff a breath and smile wide. “well, i’d better go.”

“yes, you’d better. don’t keep the lad waiting.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, your hand lingering on his. “okay, well... goodbye, brian.”

he smiles, and it’s the loveliest sight you’ve ever seen. he brushes you cheek with the back of his hand, whispering, “see you later, love.”

dipping out the back of the museum, you walk down the street, purse slung over your shoulders. you think you’ll be able to sleep well for the first time in a long time tonight.

you hope he can, too.

~*~*~*

taglist: @bhmay @grigorlee @teenagepeterpan @just-my-sickly-pride @perriwiinkle @ubernoxa @anunknownnebula @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @captvinswaan @ineloqueent

#brian may #brian may x reader #brian may fic #brian may x you #queen #queen fic #queen x reader #j writes

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btxtreads · 5 years ago

Text

whispers || min yoongi

CHAPTER ONE

➳ Fate is such a fickle thing. So easy to tamper with.

↳ Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Based off of the Daechwita MV)

↳ word count: 1.5k words

↳ rating: PG-13

↳ genre: fluff, angst, historical AU

↳ Warnings: Swords, Death, A gun, Battle Scenes, Forced Engagement, Failed Execution, Assassination

↳Trigger warning note: PLEASE BE CAREFUL IN READING THIS FIC. IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY THE THINGS LISTED ABOVE–PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED UNDER THE KEEP READING SIGN.

↳ a/n: i wrote this for like three days until i realized oh maybe it should be a series so enjoy this first chapter lol also!!!!! i put a lil final fantasy thing here and its kind of a central point to the story lmaooooOoO guys send me some asks im like really bored bls

Empress Y/N

Empress Y/N (1384 – 1461) was the second emperor of the Baekje kingdom during the early Joseon era and one of the best-known queens of the Joseon dynasty. Born to a consort, the ongju only became the heir to the throne when Gongju Sun, only child of the Baekje emperor and the late empress Shin, became the empress of Goguryeo after her marriage with the Emperor—father of the late crown prince Geum—after his queen’s untimely death. Y/N became the first empress to rule without a king in 1413, until her marriage to her royal guard Park Jimin in 1420. The empress was then succeeded by her son, Park Il-Guk, after she and her husband stepped down the throne in 1446. She died of natural causes in 1461.

It was a normal day at the temple when the empress suddenly visited. It was dark and silent—the time of the pig[1].

The heavily pregnant empress of Goguryeo, ever the superstitious, approaches the oracle with a careful bow as she cradled her swollen belly. She was due to birth any time.

“Your highness,” greeted the oracle.

“Priestess Cho,” the empress nodded back. “Apologies for having barged in at such an inconvenient time,”

“None-sense, your majesty.” The priestess replied. “The stars have called you here. Who am I to disagree?”

The queen nodded solemnly before setting her hand on her stomach. “I am to birth at any time. I would like you to tell me about my child.”

And tell her she did.

The priestess whispered a prayer as she lit an incense, then closed her eyes.

As if magic, a prophecy tumbled out of her mouth.

A family of greatness

Birthing a child of weakness

As one approaches his end,

A brother prepares to reign.

The queen gasped as tears welled up in her eyes.

She touched her stomach as she felt her child respond to his mother’s touch.

The stars have spoken.

The unborn child will not reach his seventh year, and he will not see his brother crowned as the heir to the throne.

It had been seven years since then.The country prospered and was better than ever.

The crown prince, Geum, grew up to be a cheerful, kind and intelligent boy. He had an affinity for diplomacy and is exceptionally skilled in warfare and battle strategy. The kingdom loved him.

Prince Yunki, however, was a sad child. Perhaps that was because he was constantly ill and born with a death sentence.

The boy was born with snow white hair, which the queen supposed was the result of his illnesses—though quite unheard of. Despite his affinity for swordsmanship and politics, the boy could barely even wield one.

The queen was disheartened.

Agitated by her son’s fate, the empress once again visits the temple. Once again, she sits across the same oracle.

“Your highness,” greeted the oracle. “You have returned.”

“Priestess Cho. I came for my son,” The queen replied with urgency, no time for pleasantries, “The fates have told you that he will die as his brother ages for the throne.”

“They have.”

“Geum will be groomed for the throne soon,” The queen rushed. “Is the death of Yunki really mapped by the gods?”

“No gods, your grace. Stars—the planet. Destiny. Fate. Whatever it is called.”

“Fate dictates the death of my son?”

“Alas, the stars have changed course.” The oracle whispers. “The spirits whisper.”

“What do they say?”

“That your son will be the fiercest king Goguryeo will meet.” The oracle tells. “The emperor that defies fate and destiny.”

“Priestess Cho, forgive me. I was not talking about Geum.”

“Neither am I.” The priestess replied, shocking the queen into silence as she continued. “He will not die tonight, my queen. Not yet. Not for a long while.”

Perhaps the mistake the queen did that night was not to ask what this entailed.

For the following year, the queen was delighted at what she saw.

Yunki loses his illness, recovering at a fast pace. He grew up a strong prince with fair skin, maintaining his white hair, and a sharp gaze. He became strong and fierce.

The queen perished happily that year, joyed at the fact that her son will live. She returned to the planet as her country mourned.

For years to follow, all was well in the kingdom—they had a crown prince who would rule kindly and another who defied fate.

It wasn’t until years later that it all crashed down.

Prince Geum fell in battle, and the emperor died from grief. Prince Yunki immediately ascended to the throne.

The bitter child that he grew up to be, Emperor Yunki became the mad king. All he did was pillage and burn.

That’s what he did to terrorize nearby cities, that’s what he did to eliminate rebels, and that’s what he did to conquer the Kingdom of Silla.

It was because this that fate finally fixed itself—the planet called the whispers[2].

Min Yoongi was simply… Yoongi.

He didn’t think anything was special about him—well, except for the fact that he was a time-travelling assassin sent to different moments of history to fix details that would change the course of destiny.

It would be nice to see an ancient Korea after the mess I made in America, Yoongi thought as he headed to his mission.

He shuddered at the thought of his previous mission—Yoongi spent two whole years egging Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton’s rivalry to end in a duel rather than amicable terms.

Never again.

Shaking his head, Yoongi stepped through time and landed where he needed to, Joseon era—the year 1411.

Yoongi gazed around at the busy street and the lively Goguryeo culture—but that really wasn’t what he’s here for.

Yoongi breathed and nodded to himself.

He was back here to do his mission: assassinate Emperor Yunki and restore the timeline.

Securing his straw hat on his head, Yoongi started to walk through the busy marketplace.

While he did feel weirdly out-of-place, he found that didn’t actually care as long as his cover wasn’t blown.

Three loud bangs on a drum and airy horns were suddenly heard, making him feel alive—Yoongi came at the same time they were playing the Daechwita [3].

Yoongi has always liked music. He liked to play, to listen, to sing and dance and rap. He liked it modern, classical, and traditional—and the Daechwita was one of his favorites. Perhaps it was the ties to his culture.

Intrigued, Yoongi went to watch the captivating performance.

“You really like music, don’t you?” A soft voice hummed next to him. “Obviously, right? A person wouldn’t smile that big while watching the Daechwita if they didn’t like music.”

He turned to see a girl, donned in a plain-looking blue and purple hanbok, tilting her head at him.

Yoongi blinked and turned to leave. “Hey, wait!”

The girl ran after him. “Hello!”

“Goodbye,”

“What’s your name?” The girl persisted, as Yoongi turned to another pathway, his hands in his pockets.

“None of your business.” Yoongi quipped, shooting the girl an irritated gaze.

“Sorry, I just found it really sweet that you were so happy, watching the Daechwita,” the girl continued. “While I do like music too, I really don’t listen to the Daechwita much.”

Yoongi sighed, deciding to humor the girl.

“You’re a commoner, what business do you have listening to the Daechwita?”

“You’re right, nothing!” She smiled.

“Right.”

Yoongi continued walking, vaguely aware of the footsteps following behind him.

“So, what’s your name?”

Yoongi glared at the happy girl, who only smiled back.

“If you refuse tell me, I will call you Daechwita until you do.”

Yoongi huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Listen, don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

The girl shrugged. “Not really. Besides, everybody in the country is busy these days.”

At this, Yoongi snapped into attention, turning to the girl to gather intel on his mission. “Why? What’s happening?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The girl snorted before shrugging. “The emperor of Baekje and his… ah… daughters have arrived. The gongju[4] is going to marry the emperor.”

“Emperor Yunki? A wedding?” Yoongi asked. That bastard is getting married?

“Yes.” The girl nodded, smiling.

“Have you seen the emperor yet?” Yoongi asked curiously, taking note of possible locations.

The girl slowly shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him. I’m just a visitor.”

“From where?” Yoongi asked.

The girl gulped. “Baekje.”

“Ah,” Yoongi nodded. “What was your name again?”

“…Y/N?” The girl replied hesitantly.

So, this is Empress Y/N of Baekje, Yoongi noted before he shrugged. Didn’t know she was this annoying.

“Okay, then.”

He turned to leave.

“Wait, that’s it? That’s your response? To what I just told you?”

He turned his head and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, was I supposed to say anything else?”

The girl’s eyes lighted up. “No!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and turned to leave when the girl bounded up next to him.

“So, where are you from?”

Yoongi let out an exasperated sigh.

This was going to be a very long day.

LORE GUIDE:

[1] In the Joseon era, people told time via sundials and water clocks. As they did not follow the modern format of time yet, they based off of animals. The time of the pig means 9:00 – 11:00 PM.

[2] Based off of the Final Fantasy 7 remake, Whispers were entities that were meant to keep destiny in line. They appear at instances where destiny could possibly change course and make sure that whatever needs to happen, happens. However, this can be broken as Cloud and his team destroys all entities and changes the past, present and future—altering the timeline and creating a new one.

[3] Daechwita is a genre of Korean tradition music played with snares and woodwind instruments. This is usually performed during marching or when the king is out.

[4] Ongju and Gongju are both princesses. Gongju, however is the daughter of the king and queen—a crown princess. An ongju is the daughter of the king and a consort.

For other questions DM me,,,, also i just really want people to talk to u

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dalamjisung · 5 years ago

Text

in one year ❀ im jaebeom

word count: 2952

genre: fluff

pairing: reader x im jaebeom

description: a lot can happen in a year. this is what happened in yours.

Common love isn't for you. You knew that even before Jaebeom, and you know that now, with Jaebeom.

You two first met when you got hired as the new Marketing Assistant, taking on their upcoming tour as your first project. No once could deny the connection in between you two; the feelings were strong enough to be felt by everyone around you, be it good or bad. You smile as you remember meeting them for the first time.

“Come and get it, GOT7!”

Everything was happening too fast; just two minutes ago you were walking through the entrance doors to meet your new boss, and now here you were, with the seven boys smiling at you.

“We’re GOT7,” One of them continues with a small smile. “I’m GOT7’s leader, Im Jaebeom. I hope you’ll take care of us!”

They all bow in synchrony and you take a step back, suddenly intimidated. You were their new Marketing employee, meaning you were in charge from merchandise sales to album cover approvals. They had to captivate the fans hearts, and you had to captivate their wallets. It was suddenly too real– you had a job. A real job, in the real world. And those seven real boys’ future was in your hands.

“H-Hi,” You bow back to them. “I’m Y/N… It’s an honor to work with you all. Let’s build something great, yeah?”

The cheer that follows makes you blush and recoil into yourself. With the corner of your eyes you see Jaebeom watching you closely, and you straighten your back. You wanted to make a good impression, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were in way above your head.

“Hey,” Jaebeom comes closer. “We’ll help you the best we can. We’re a team now. Let’s build something great.”

Together, you created something much more than just great– you created something phenomenal. As you got your work done, you couldn’t help but grow closer to the boys– you were a true believer that since this is their tour and their career, they had the final word on every single project you took on. That made Jaebeom trust you like he trusted no one else; you respected his team, his family. In return, he respected you and your hard work. He’d often see you pulling all nighters as he left to the dorms and found you in the same spot, coffee cups next to you, when he got back in the morning. He knew GOT7 was in good hands, and after a while, you knew it too.

You confidence grew as time passed. The tour sold out, and so did their limited merchandise line you pitched to the Creative Director. The fast pace in which your name started to grow within the company was like no other; you had it in you, true talent. It made Jaebeom proud when, during team dinners– a rule you created so that you could talk to them more freely,– you’d shyly mumble some praise someone told you or a promotion you had been nominated for.

“That’s our girl!” Jackson screamed during dinner, raising his beer glass. “Climbing that corporate ladder one step at a time!”

You laugh in the endearing way you usually did– head throw and all,– and raised your glass, clinking it with theirs. Tonight marked six months since you’ve got assigned to GOT7, and as you were celebrating you guys’ anniversary, you told them about the meeting you had with JYP this afternoon.

“But noona,” Yugyeom whines, frowning. “Does that mean you’ll stop working with us?” “Don’t worry about that Yugy,” You chuckle, stretching your arm far enough to be able to hold his hand and give it a firm squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. Being Marketing Director just means I’ll have the final say in all projects assigned to GOT7, which means you have the final say in all projects assigned to GOT7.”

The boys cheer once again, laughing and joking about overthrowing Park Jinyoung from the CEO throne and putting in their own Park Jinyoung. You laugh and, in a moment of weakness, you look at Jaebeom. He has a smile on his face– the kind of smile you give to a loved one, small and contained, but strong and concentrated,– and his eyes were looking down at his cup. He shook his head and when his eyes met yours, you offer him a smile, and a blush. It was no secret that your affection for the hardworking leader grew every day; it was the company’s joke that you two would end up together, just like in one of the fan’s fanfictions. You two always shook your head and denied all allegations, but you knew he felt it too– the pull.

He raises his glass slightly; another toast, just for you.

You nod in recognition, and, later that night, when you’ve drunk one beer too many, and he had to take you home, before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to you.

“Stay.”

Needless to say you were horrified once you woke up. You laugh, as memories of your past flood your brain. You could practically feel the weight of his arm around your waist as you jumped out of the bed with a shriek, making him tumble to the side and fall on his shoulder, groaning in pain. After that, you both awkwardly made breakfast and before you could say anything, Jaebeom was out of the door. The frustration that came with the next couple of weeks was something you were not ready for; Jaebeom ignored and avoided you with every chance he got.

You shake your head, putting the lasts items in your bag as the memory of your first fight replayed in your mind.

“Im Jaebeom!”

Your voice echoed in the empty dancing room, and the surprise was such that he even let out a scream, turning around with wide eyes and a hand over his heart.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You seethed, marching in the room after slamming the door shut.

“…rehearsing?” He mumbles, sounding more like a question than an answer.

“Don’t play dumb with me now, mister,” You whisper, grabbing the front of his sweaty t-shirt and pulling him closer to you– close enough to touch your nose to his. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week, now! Are you insane? I have two projects to give back to JYP that I need your approval for, but I can’t get it, now, can I? Cause you won’t fucking talk to me! Okay, I get it! You think that night was a mistake, and I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry if I made you stay and sleep over and take care of me but goddammit, you could’ve just said no! Or left! It would’ve hurt less than what you’re doing right now, you fucking asshole. The worst part of it all is that I miss you– I still fucking miss you laughing at Jackson’s stupid jokes during lunch, or screaming at Bam for getting the choreography wrong. So honestly, get your act together, because if I have to listen to Yugyeom cry one more time because he thinks I’m going to leave because of this stupid fight, I’ll bash your face in. We’re professionals. Deal with it.”

And this time, you are the one that leave.

You made him taste his own medicine. You ignored Jaebeom in any setting outside of work for three days– and that’s all he could take before showing up to your apartment.

You open the door with a sigh, ready to just grab your pizza and wallow in your misery. You’ve just been rejected by the man you had steadily been nurturing feeling for, and sure, it was al partially your fault– you let yourself go, first, admiring his love for his members, and then, his love for your. You shone under his proud gaze when you’d tell him about another successful meeting; you basked under his smile as his hand found your head and patted you affectionately; and you grew under his laugh as you told him a joke that Jackson had just taught you minutes earlier. You slowly fell in love with Im Jaebeom and you knew about it; you knew about it from when it started to when it ended.

But it couldn’t just end like that, could it? Not with you two. So obviously, he had to show up at your door.

“What are you doing here?” You sigh, and you sound defeated. Your shoulders are fallen and your voice is tired, and you know he knows it too.

“I fucked up.”

“Yes, you did,” You look at him and you feel anxious, noticing the panic in his eyes. Jaebeom hardly ever showed his emotions, so for you to be able to catch that, something must’ve been wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” You hate yourself for how easily you gave in, but you just couldn’t– you couldn’t not have him in your life. “Go home Jaebeom, it’s late.”

“Can I stay?”

This question carried much more than it sounded like it did, and you knew it. If you said no, then that would’ve been it– the last of you and Jaebeom. You’d have to work with him and see him and talk to him and laugh with him, but you’d never really be with him. This couldn’t happen.

“Yes.”

His mouth is on yours before you can say anything else, and for the rest of the night, Jaebeom showed you how sorry he was.

That night you learned what it was like to feel truly wanted; truly loved. Jaebeom apologized over and over again and you let him, forgiving him time and time again. He made you feel like the most precious diamond on Earth, rare and delicate and strong, and nothing could ever compare to that. For the next month, you got to observe your relationship blossom, and your love grow. You got to learn more about Jaebeom, and you even learned some new things about yourself.

The taxi drops you at the airport, an hour before your flight, and you rush through security, barely making it for boarding, but nothing could stop you know. This had been planned a month ago, and it’s been too long. Way too long. Today marked exactly two years since you’ve met GOT7… and exactly one year since Jaebeom asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Babe?” You call out, entering the dark apartment. Jaebeom had texted you a couple of hours ago asking you to come over and you said that as soon as you were done with work you’d swing by. You hear fait meows coming from the main bedroom and you quietly make your way over, careful to not wake him up in case he was actually asleep.

“No, Cake, come on,” You hear angry mumbling and you chuckle as he talked to his cats. “Nora, tell your siblings to stay put! Y/N should be here anytime now and–“ You open the door upon hearing your name and the scene in front of you is precious. Jaebeom is kneeling on his mattress, next to a sunflower bouquet, trying to make his cats stand still around him. The all freeze at your presence, though, and you have to ask what’s going on before any of them could move.

“Uh…” Jaebeom lets go of Cake, who now lays on its back, waiting for her daily tummy pets she got from you. “Surprise?”

“Surprise, indeed,” You laugh. “What’s going on?”

“W-Well,” Jaebeom stutters, and you know. You know what’s coming and you shake in excitement. You’ve been waiting months for this. “I– no, we wanted to know if you’d like to join us? I know I’m very busy, and that you are very busy, too, and that we have to try really hard to see each other, but I think we’ve been doing great so far, and we’re a small family of one man and five cats, and we’d love to add you to this little thing of ours… and I wanted to know if I could finally call my mom and tell her that I got a girlfriend. Or not; not call her and not have a girlfriend, completely up to you… yeah…”

Only Im Jaebeom could talk about his mom when asking someone to be his girlfriend and still be charming. “I’d love to join your little family,” You whisper, smiling wide and jumping on the bed, trying to avoid man and cats, and failing miserably as you fall on top of Jaebeom. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” He whispers and kisses you passionately. Just as things escalated, he pulled back, too abruptly for you to not whine about it. “But I meant it; I need to call my mom.”

“No,” You complain. “More kisses.”

“She’s been trying to set me up with these weird girls and–“

“Call your mom right this instant.”

The flight lasts only an hour and your body buzzes as you pass through security, following the boys agent back to where they were.

“He's gonna be over the moon when he finally sees you,” He laughs from the driver’s seat. “We’ve done a pretty good job of not telling his anything, even though Bambam almost ruined everything a few times.”

You laugh. “Are they in the hotel?”

“No,” The man shakes his head. “They are in the arena going through sound check. I already give the drive to the video crew, though, so as soon as you hear the song, just walk in.”

“Got it,” You smile nervously. “I hope he’s surprised.”

“Oh, believe me, he will be. They have been very discouraged these days; they are tired and a lot happened and I think this is just what they all need to remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Everything.”

“Remember?” You ask, sniffling as you caressed Jaebeom’s face on your computer.

“Remember what, love?” He asks, voice tired from all the concerts they’ve been playing.

“Everything,” And you let your tears falls. “Remember everything, will you? All the nights we spent talking, and all the fights we’ve had. Don’t forget a single detail, Im Jaebeom! Don’t forget me, okay?”

“Baby,” He chuckles, and even though he is smiling, you know how hard this is on him; having you so far away, crying because he’s just not there. “Just two more months, yeah? And then I’ll be home, in your arms.”

“I miss you so fucking much,” You sob, and this is so unfair. You wished you could go with him, but JYP assigned you to ITZY’s debut album while GOT7 was touring the world. He said the girls could use your magical brain for a successful launch to their career. “I just want you.”

“And I want you too,” He says forcefully. “Miss you. Love you.”

“Love you.”

That was two weeks ago. JYP had been made aware of the problems GOT7 was facing. How tired they were while dancing; how discouraged they sounded while singing; how irritated they got while resting. It was a mess, and so, pulling out of your assignment, he gave you a week off of work, allowing you enough time to go visit Jaebeom and the boys. You were there to remind them why they were doing all of this; why they were there. You even made a video, with pictures and compilations of moments you’ve had together. To fit two years of friendship in a video had been hard, but to also fit one year of dating had been almost impossible. But you did it. For them, you’d always do it.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Security guided you to the back of the arena, since when the video started, the boys would have their backs to the main entrance, thought the audience. And just as discussed, as soon as you heard the familiar tune of ‘Lullaby’ started, you tiptoed to closer to the stage, hearing their surprised gasps and laughter throughout their mics as pictures of you all in restaurants and parks passed through.

There it was; your story with them. Your family. Pictures of you and Jinyoung on a bookstore, and of you and Yugyeom at the zoo. There were videos of the boys dancing at the arcade and videos of birthday songs. There were videos of you and Jaebeom’s cats and pictures of you and Coco. You weren’t sure if it was you or them, but you could definitely hear someone crying.

Just as the video ended, you laughed, quietly and to yourself, trying not to ruin the surprise. There was a minute of silence before you smile and say, as softly as you could, “Hi, loves!”

They all turn together, and their synchronization doesn’t fail to spook you.

“Noona!” Yugyeom shouts, running to you and hugging you. You felt tears falling on your shoulders and you chuckle.

“Hi, you big baby,” You say, patting his hair.

You make your rounds, hugging each and every one of the boys, until you got to him. He was sitting down, hands over his face, shoulders shaking from the strength of his sobs. You kneel in front of him, pulling him by the wrists and his arms go around you instead, pulling you into his lap.

“I love you so fucking much,” He sobs on your neck. “I missed you.” “I missed you too, Jaebeom,” You whisper, caressing his hair. “I love you too. I’m here; it’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

“It will now,” He says and kisses you, ignoring the loud cheering from the boys. “Happy one year, Y/N.”

“Best year of my life,” You smile. “Happy one year.”

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

hello!!!! I am sorry for the absence, but college demands a lot from me hahah I hope you like this nonetheless! I’m a few minutes lates, but happy valentine’s! Love you all! Let me know what you think in the comments :) it means the world ❤️

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remingt0nleith · 5 years ago

Text

thorns | remington leith

try & find the hidden palaye royale song title in the fic! & additional A/N at the end.

A/N: hi wow long time no write :( SORRY! I have ideas and I try to write then my brain just doesn’t want to put the ideas on the word document. + y’know having depression doesn’t help things bleh... BUT I did write a full something finally (yay bare minimum author things!) This was requested! gonna keep trying to turn out requests & work on dark cherries also my birthday is on thursday and i’m turning 24 (wow im getting old help) & also the bastards comes out the day after so yay! lets chat about it when its out ok?

Request: Where Remington cheats on the reader and she finds out, but he does everything he can to get her back?

Thorns - A Remington Leith one-shot. || 1.9K words || under cut.

The catalyst for a ruined night came in a round of shots. Emerson poured the amber liquid into hot pink shot glasses that the boys had picked up days prior. Remington wasted no time in downing his, barely flinching at the bitter taste that now coated his tongue.

“Slow down there, cowboy”

Sebastian laughed before throwing his own shot back, placing a hand on Remington’s cheetah print covered shoulder.

“We can’t have our lead singer fucked up out of his mind, can we?”

The eldest brother chided playfully as he took the bottle from Emerson and poured more shots.

As the brothers drank and talked anxiously about their first show of a new tour, Remington’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, taking it out he suppressed an eye-roll at the message filling his screen;

My Love <3: HEY BABY JUST WANT TO WISH U LUCK TONIGHT YOU’LL KILL IT. LOVE U.

He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him lately, usually, he’d be thrilled at the love and adoration his girlfriend of three years was showing him. She was always cheering him on, listening to his music, and supporting his band in every way she could. Although she was unable to come to most shows due to a fast-paced work schedule she always made a point to let the band of brothers know they had her support. That should’ve been enough to keep Remington happy but recently he had become cold towards his girlfriend and as he put his phone away without responding all thoughts of her disappeared as well.

Remington headed backstage after the show still high from the performance. The adrenaline from the encouraging crowd and kick-ass concert his band delivered had Remington feeling happier than he had in months. Once in the dressing room, the boys quickly changed out of their sweaty stage attire into more relaxed outfits, and like clockwork, shots were once again being handed out.

Once everyone had a decent buzz going the boys and their crew headed out to a nearby nightclub to celebrate the success of the show. Remington realized halfway to the club that he had forgotten his phone in the dressing room, a fact that didn’t phase him, in fact he was happy to be rid of the constant ringing.

Once inside the packed club, Remington waved goodbye to his brothers and made his way to the bar. His buzz had diminished slightly in the car ride and that was a no go for Remington so he ordered a drink, which quickly became two, then three before he headed to the dance floor.

Packed in a sea of bodies the singer danced to the music, enjoying the happiness that came from the night’s events as well as the alcohol in his system. When a manicured hand grabbed him and pulled him close, he didn’t object, instead, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired beauty.

The pair danced together to the techno music blaring overhead, strobe lights illuminating their faces, hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies before the woman leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss to Remington’s lips.

If there was a moment of panic, a spark of recognition somewhere in the sober part of his mind, Remington ignored it. Instead, he deepened the kiss with the gorgeous stranger, when the pair eventually pulled away from the kiss, they headed to the bar for more drinks.

When Sebastian came to let Remington know it was time to head to the hotel, the frontman wasted no time in asking this new girl if she’d like to go with him. Much to the dismay of the older (and wiser) brother, she said yes and everyone piled into the van and were chauffeured back to the hotel to continue the party.

Morning light filtered through the window a sign of a new day, but as Remington opened his eyes the gravity of last night hit him. He was alone in his hotel bed, the white sheets crumpled and covered in streaks of makeup (his or hers, he wasn’t sure). Flashbacks of last night filled his mind and all at once he realized the hickeys on his body were from a stranger, the realization filled him with shame and dread.

He found his phone which had been placed on his nightstand by one of his brothers or their touring manager (who always cleaned up after the boys’ wild nights) and on it were several unread texts and calls which came in at varying points of the evening.

[9:13 pm] My Love <3: It should be time for u boys to be on stage! I’ll be stalking twitter for updates and vids love u

[12:02 am] My Love <3: Watched a ton of vids that are already being posted! Get back to me when u get this my love so proud of u xx

[3:56 am] My Love <3: Guess your phone died or your out celebrating a great night. Call me when you see this or wake up. I love you.

[10:20 am] 5 missed calls

[10:27 am] *attached photo* REMINGTON.... FUCK YOU.

The photo on his phone screen displayed the girl from last night under the covers as a passed out Remington slept beside her. The caption didn’t say anything besides a winking emoji and she tagged him and his band’s account.

Instantly, he was dialing his girlfriend’s number, hands shaking as he paced around the spacious hotel room desperately waiting for an answer.

“Hello?”

Rose answered, soft voice hoarse from hours of crying.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry..”

Remington started to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could form them.

“Save it”

Rose snapped before continuing her voice harder and more assured now than it was just moments ago.

“I never thought you’d do this even as the band started to gain an audience, I told myself that I had nothing to worry about. All the pretty girls and boys didn’t matter because what we had was strong but it sucks being proven wrong huh?”

Remington’s sudden surge of tears prevented him from speaking as the pain in his chest grew with each word. The saddest part of it all was that she was right and that ripped him up inside.

“Rose I-”

he whispered, voice barely audible even to himself.

Instead of an answer he was left hearing the sound of the call disconnecting.

The tour passed by in a daze for Remington and while his brothers desperately wanted him to be more present, they understood. He’d get on stage and sing, forgetting about the pain in his heart for that hour or so, as soon as the curtain closed the ache in his chest was back, a cruel reminder to the life-changing mistake he’d made.

Rose had cut off all contact with her now ex-boyfriend instead choosing to go through Emerson to inform him she was moving out of their shared apartment in LA.

Each night in his hotel bed, memories of the past three years filtered through his brain until he exhaustingly cried himself to sleep.

Remington used Emerson’s phone to send a series of texts to Rose to apologize, to accept full responsibility but the only reply he received was instructions to give Emerson his phone back and to leave her alone.

Just as quickly as the tour started it was now coming to a close a few months later. The boys were back in LA for a sold-out show in typical Los Angeles fashion. Remington never stopped trying to get ahold of Rose -- he sent flowers to her new address, letters where he begged for her back, apologizing and pleading for her forgiveness yet he was never awarded a reply. He didn’t blame her at all but that didn’t mean the pain hurt any less, he’d do anything for a second chance.

Shots of vodka were taken, cheers and high fives were given and the boys hit the stage. Remington gazed out into the crowd, a see of silhouettes behind bright stage lights. After a few songs, Remington sat down at the end of the stage, dark boots quietly thumping against the side.

“Y’know fans like to think we’re perfect”

he stated which earned a chorus of “I love you’s” as well as cheers from the crowd.

He smiled before continuing,

“As much as I love to hear it, it’s not true and sometimes we royally fuck up. I fucked up and these past few months have been hell so I wrote this song.”

The crowd applauded as they watched their favorite singer head to the piano, the spotlight shining on him as he sat down.

“This song is called Thorns,”

Remington began to play a hauntingly slow ballad about losing the love of your life and how apart of you is lost as well.

The pain in my heart is defeating me

Cracking me open for all to see

I’m numb to life, deep inside

Needing you to realize, you’re the better part of me

An illusion of love is what I fear

Taking each step is now unclear

A rose garden in my dreams,

You leaving now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging for my rose to please believe

I made a mistake that I can see

Yet this pain without you is deafening

My heart of thorns cuts me deep

Paralyzing me and making me weak

Please my rose I beg you, have sympathy.

The rose garden in my dreams,

But you’re leaving right now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging my rose to please believe

I love you Rose it’s all I know, I’m sorry for all my sorrow

By the time the song ended, Remington had tears blurring his vision. He was so wrapped up in playing the song he didn’t realize he had started to cry but to the audience that just made it so much more beautiful.

After the show, Remington hurried off the stage in order to collect his emotions but in the dressing room sat Rose. Her blonde hair was curled and she wore a red dress and in a true movie moment a dozen roses sat in her lap.

“Rem that song…”

she started but before she could finish, Remington ran over and threw his arms around her, hugging her to make sure she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m so sorry”

he whispered once she hugged back.

“The flowers were from Seb”

Rose mumbled, green eyes flicking down to them after their hug. Sebastian must have ordered them because he knew what Remington was planning. That was his older brother alright, always playing the papa bear role.

The singer’s mind was racing a mile a minute, he had a million questions but all he could do was apologize.

Rose shushed him with a chaste kiss before speaking,

“By no means have I forgiven you completely. That song however beautiful doesn’t make everything go away but I’m willing to work on us”

Remington nodded, happy she was here and willing to give their relationship another shot.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,”

he whispered, wrapping her in another hug.

They knew it would be a long road to get back to where they were before but Remington was happy he had his Rose back in his life.

A/N: omg that song was not that good I came up with it on my own though and I’m not a lyricist lol hope u enjoyed xx

#remington leith fic #remington leith imagine #remington leith #request #palaye royale fic #palaye royale imagine

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pinkykitten · 5 years ago

Text

never give UP

Stranger Things

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Warning: car accident, hospital, drinking and driving (do not do pls), speeding (also do not do), mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, alcohol

Specifics: angst, romance, race neutral reader, one-shot

People: billy hargrove, max mayfield, neil hargrove, your dad, your mom, your doctor

Words: 1,747

Request: By @intheendyouwillalwayskneel Hi, could I please get a Billy x romantic reader where Billy is speeding and they get into a wreck and she is permanently injured. Maybe she lurches forward and hits her head on the the breaking windshield. Then develops a brain hemorrhage and falls into a coma. Billy is horrified and heartbroken because it's all his fault.

Authors Note: wow this one i think i went a little overboard with the drama and story srry im a bit of a drama queen so ta-ta. this has a lot of things in it so if u cant read it or dont want to read it no shame and no hate, u do u. i do hope for those to read it to like it cuz i wanted to think outside the box. srry this took me quite a while to make another story ive just been rlly busy lately atm.

Crazy little thing called love played loudly on the speakers in Billy’s car. The windows were opened as the wind howled against your ears. The car’s engine roared as it sped down the darkly lit street. It was late at night and some folks would say that it was too dangerous for a drive but you and Billy were daredevils. You were opened to a rebellious chapter in your life after you met Billy. He was willing to take risks, he was the bad boy you would read every night in your romance books.

Your hand danced in the air outside of the window, creating a wave against the waving trees. You sang to the music as Billy laughed. He laughed like a mad man, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body. You and him howled like a bunch of crazy teenagers you were. You were young and you wanted to live your life.

“So how is this y/n? Is this wild enough for ya?” Billy shouted over the blaring music.

You took a swig of some alcohol located under the seat. It burned your throat as the liquid made its way down. You gave a look of disgust. Billy chuckled and took a drink himself, “too strong for you?”

You shook your head as you felt light. Alcohol still new to you so that small sip made you feel tipsy. You scooted closer to Billy and wrapped your hands around his face, bringing him closer to you. You kissed his lips and his cheek. Your lips made their way to his earlobe, biting lightly on the skin and then whispering into his ear, “Crazy turns me on.”

Billy raised his brow as he smirked, “is that so!” As quick as light his foot stepped on the gas pedal making the car seem to fly through the air. The miles were going higher and higher. At first you were having fun, enjoying the excitement but now it was getting too dangerous. Your smile disappeared and instead a frown was found on your face. You were actually scared.

“Billy okay thats enough. Slow down.”

He would not. Instead he sped more.

“Billy, I said stop it!” You were shaking. The car was going so fast that any minute it felt as if it would turn over and tumble around. Billy cackled loudly. His old, selfish attitude resurfacing. Out from the turn came a truck. Billy was speeding to such a degree that the car was zig-zagging. The car and the truck were about to make contact. Billy was like a deer in headlights. His laughing stopped and now all he did was freeze. He didn’t know what to do. He quickly lifted his hand to go across your body while your hands laid against the steering wheel. The wheel turned and the car spun out of control. It missed the truck but rolled down a grassy hill. The spin was so rough that you lunged forward, hitting your head against the windshield.

Billy quickly made sure you were alright but was met with a distraught view. Your head laid back against the seat. Your forehead was bloody and blood dripped out of your nose. You laid unconscious. Billy was so scared for you. He shook you, wanting you to wake up, “Y/n! Y/n! Please y/n please wake up. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears started to pour out of his eyes. He wanted you to be safe, to be happy.

He felt so guilty. Seeing you in the hospital bed, machines and things poking into you. It was all his fault. He would visit you everyday, no matter what. You weren’t respondent though, you were in a coma. Every day he hoped and prayed that you would wake up from it. It didn’t matter if you didn’t want to see him anymore or hated him he just needed you awake and alive. Your parents were furious. He would dodge seeing them every time. They wanted to kill him and probably stop him from seeing you but he couldn’t let that happen.

He needed to see you.

Billy entered into your room, flowers in hand. He set the flowers in a vase and put them beside you on the table. The doctor told him that even though you couldn’t move or be aware of anything you still could hear. Billy would always speak to you. He would tell you about his day, about your gifts, about your family. Even though he was going through a rough time at his home, you mattered more to him.

“Hey babe, its me Billy. I got you your favorite flowers today,” he softly massaged your hands. Hating seeing them motionless. Billy had cried so much during this time with you. He hated himself more now if that was even possible. He felt he was a failure to everyone, to you, to Max, to his mother. He felt he was just a waste. Tears started to drip from his eyes onto his cheek, “you know Max made a card for you.” He chuckles seeing the odd stickers on it and the drawings. He placed it next to your flowers. “She hopes you feel better and she misses you. I miss you too. Your parents miss you.” Silence. He despised the silence. He just wished you would jump out from that bed and live. “Baby, you gotta wake up. It doesn’t have to be for me, its has to be for your parents and for yourself. I’m so sorry for putting you through this. Its all my fault. I should be the one there not you, me!’

A knock filled in the silence. Quickly, Billy wiped his tears and saw that it was the doctor who came in. “Is everything alright here?”

Billy nodded. “Is everything okay doctor?”

“Well...y/n is going to have some complications if she wakes up from this coma. She developed a brain hemorrhage and we’re looking at maybe some sort of paralysis. We’re suspecting half of her body but it may be more, we’re not 100 percent sure.”

Billy was shocked and he couldn’t stop himself from crying.

“You monster!” Your father came in along with your mother. Your father ran up to Billy and clutched onto his denim jacket, tears also coming down his face. “How could you do this to my daughter?” The doctor was trying to stop the fight but your father was so irate. Your mother was sobbing in the background and Billy wished in that moment he was dead. Your father shook Billy and screamed at him. “You did this to her. Take a good look at her!” Billy turned to the side and saw you. You laid there calm. Tubes connected to you. “I never want to see you again. Not here, not now, not ever. If she wakes up from this she is banned from seeing or even talking about you. You will stop seeing her here and I swear to God if you think about walking in here again I will make sure you go through the same sufferings as my daughter!” Your dad shoved Billy out of the room and Billy ran out of the hospital. Sobbing silently, alone, quietly outside. Wishing the nightmares would just end.

Billy had tried to see you in the hospital but your father was always there and the doctors knew he wasn’t allowed there anymore. Billy made a turn for the worst. He just couldn’t live without you. He started to go to alcohol for comfort, missing school and his temper rising even more, taking it out on Max. He was a mess. It was either feeling guilty over what happened with you or getting abused. There was no happiness for Billy.

Billy had woken up with a hangover. Throwing up in the toilet. He was done with this life. Then the doorbell rang. Billy thought it was another one of Max’s loser friends so he called out to her. There was no answer. “Max! I said get the God da*n door!” There was still no answer. Billy walked over the door, cursing to himself as the room started to spin. As he opened the door he was greeted with your face. You stood there, smiling, a cane in your hand as you leaned on if for support. Billy opened his mouth wide in shock, thinking he was dreaming as he sometimes had dreams or feelings that he saw his mother sometimes.

“Is that really you y/n?”

You nodded and jumped onto him for a hug. You gently caressed his curls. “Its me Billy. Its really me.”

“Wait,” he backed away from you. “No this isn’t right. You hate me! You’re supposed to hate me! I hurt you. I did this all to you. I’m, I’m a monster!” He started to cry as his lips trembled.

You shook your head, “no, no Billy. Its okay,” you cradled him in your arms. “I’m fine now. I feel better.” You looked into his eyes. “Look at me, you are not a monster. I don’t hate you Billy, I could never. I forgive you for what happened but there was nothing to forgive in the first place. I love you Billy. With every fiber in my body I love you. I could never be apart from you. I know about all the things you did in the hospital. All the things you said, the gifts, Billy that wasn’t hate that was love. You did all that because you love me. What we both did was wrong that day. We should of never drank and speed, but its in the past know, we learn from our mistakes. I’m not like your parents or anybody else in your life that leaves you. I’m staying put right beside you forever. You can never get rid of me.”

Billy felt speechless in that moment. How did he get so lucky to be with you? What did he do to deserve such an angel as yourself? Billy embraced you again, “I love you so much y/n. I love you so much.” He kept repeating. You placed your hands on his jaw and kissed his lips lovingly. Billy was so grateful to have you in his life. Even though his life with his dad was not easy he had you to lean on. He had you to make him smile and laugh. He had you to keep him going and to remind him to never give up.

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @idontknowwhattocallthisworld (wont let me tag)

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

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ninzied · 6 years ago

Text

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

#kastle #kastleff #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastledaily #happy belated birthday haley!!!!!!#sorry for the unpolishedness #i may go back and edit it up a bit later lol #but i wanted to have something for you because you've been so lovely and welcoming!#i can't thank you enough!

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softhaos · 6 years ago

Text

ONE (1) YEAR OF SOFTHAOS

fellas, as of today – jan 14th 2019 – softhaos has turned one year old!! honestly, i never expected to last this long?? over the past year, i’ve gone through many ups and downs, made close mutuals, received so much emotional support from all kinds of people on this site and overall, i’m so thankful that i pulled my shit together and joined the community on tumblr!

i still remember clearly when i first started out with this blog and posted the neighbor aus and got SO much support for it?? like?? i never thought it’d come this far where i could touch readers’ hearts with my word vomits?? that’s just insane. and even if you don’t read my works yet still follow me: wow, i’m so grateful that you managed to cope with my bullshit – be it from my undying hatred towards pcy and kmg, me abusing the uwuwuwu or my personal thoughts.

in other words, this is my message directed to everyone: thank you for keeping up with my bullshit uwu

now on to the part where i thank specific people for making my existence on this site more bearable,, i’ve left a message for everyone i tagged (i would’ve tagged literally everyone but i’m a stressed student i am so sorry if i forgot you kjldl and i would feel bad if i didn’t leave a note to everyone i tagged) and the list is in alphabetical order! @ anons i also left notes from you at the very bottom.

@baekberrie 💌 even though we just talked once literally two days ago thanks to my clumsy ass sending you an accidental ask, i’m so glad i actually did. pola (okay i got this from your about page im sorry kljsdl) you’re an amazing, kind and talented soul with whom i could’ve talked hours about soft bbh if it weren’t for my tiredness. i’ve only read your junmyeon oneshot so far but trust me, i’ll get to that cuddling fic with baek real soon once i’ve got more time uwu you’re honestly a talented writer and i hope we get to talk more in the future!

@baekbuns 💌 i’ve known you for how many days already you anon thot and i really can’t believe that i was vv intimidated by you at first (not gonna lie, you still scream bde but that’s another story-) hope, despite you trying to steal pretty much everyone from anyone, it’s still very fun to fight talk with you and you’re also an excellent writer uwuwuwu i am still very attacked by the thought of bartender yixing one day I WILL SUE YOU ALONG WITH PCY

@baekwell--tart 💌 bella!!!! ngl i’m still very pissed at myself for not realizing you from your old url but i’m glad i found you again!! (did i find you again? idk anymore i suffer from short term memory but i hope i got my point across sdjlkj) you’re such a warmhearted person and i’m really grateful that i got to know you. however, you’re also a funny person and that also shows in your writing - istg one day i will probably have “perpetual boredom” tattooed on my forehead don’t ask why that description of sehun will NEVER fail to make me chuckle!! you deserve all the love and happiness in the world and so much more uwu

@boosoonhao 💌 i know i keep repeating myself when it comes to you aj, but i really have no idea what else to say. i wrote it in the letter, i expressed myself way too often in the tags whenever i reblog your works, yet here i am doing it again (and maybe even more exaggerated than usual, we’ll see): aj, you are one of the most talented writers i’ve ever known and one of the greatest blessings in the community. there, i said it and i mean it! you are one of the very few i know that doesn’t shy away from fantasy-ish aus and executes them brilliantly. the way you have with your words is just fascinating and i find myself sometimes jotting down what you wrote for future references? but writing skills aside, you are a beautiful and kind person and up to this day the key chain you sent me is still intact. aj, thank you for blessing me, blessing everyone with your talent and general existence.

@byuncaa 💌 bianca you smol soft bean you have my heart right there and though we don’t know each other for so long, i hope we get to talk more in the future uwu you’re such a cute soul gaaah it really makes me wanna send you all the soft memes i possibly own anywaY i hope you just stay as bubbly and bright and adorable as you are uwu

@cafechenle 💌 hani, kaito kid, i don’t know whether you’re still alive on tumblr or not but idc i’m still writing this to you anyway. you’re one of the first people i’ve met on this site and gOD i remember it as clear as day where i was so close to blocking you within the first few minutes of knowing you. yes, i’m talking about the entire mansae chan era discourse. anyway, we don’t talk as much but i hope you’re doing fine my wee lil silver boys supremacist!!

@changbeanbag 💌 landon, we literally just met yesterday but as you can see, i don’t care and i’m writing you a wee lil note anyway. you, my dude, radiate uwu energy and ngl i may have squealed when i saw your tags in the ask i sent you teehee - i hope we get to talk more in the future (that is, if school hasn’t killed me until then-)

@changbiinn 💌 kirra, you beautiful, blue haired visual goddess who has everyone else (including jisung yES I WENT THAT FAR) looking like a mere smurf and found dead in a ditch! i didn’t think i’d get an instant dm from that one inkigayo shitpost but you went ahead and proved me wrong sjljlks timezones fuck me up all the time but nonetheless i hope we get to interact a lil more and gET ENOUGH SLEEP OR ELSE

@cheolsjigyu 💌 MISS VAN NO I DID NOT FORGET YOU HEAR ME OUT. first of all, how could i forget you when you provided me all the great twt aus and the wild chats we had back in?? sometime early last year i guess. it’s been a very long time since we talked and i’m sorry i couldn’t reach out to you any time sooner due to school and the usual stuff (also, uh, i’m not the biggest friend of tumblr dms and barely check any messages there so there’s that too) believe it or not i still wheeze whenever i think of your fic swing baby because goddamnit that jyp song was one repeat for a good week. anyway, i hope you��ve been doing well and are not at the brink of near death like me uwu

@cherryxiu 💌 gran, frank, satan incarnate, whatever else i call you. you may fuck me up with the pcy i’ve never asked for but i hope you know you have a soft spot in my heart (i’ll never say that out loud again tho so see it as a one of a time thing). you’re my fav minseok stan and while i wouldn't necessarily jump off a cliff for you, i’d jump with you uwu anyway, aggressively refrain from sending me more pcy content i’m just trying to live an easy life here. but knowing you, you’ll definitely pretend as if that last part was never written so why do i even bother-

@chillihansol 💌 hanni my child!!! i hope you’re doing fine, aren’t as stressed anymore and have received the love you deserve and more!!! i still remember when i was highkey intimidated by you so i went on anon but then somehow you were startled by my lil threat and then i became your mom anon? funny that has changed over the time skldj hanni, i don’t regret ever going on anon for you and you’re an amazingly talented writer. i already said it once but i’ll say it again: guns n roses was the first svt fic i read on tumblr and just thank you for creating that piece uwu

@choco-seventeen 💌 miss choco, i almost tumbled down the nonexistent stairs in my apartment when i saw you ??? sliding into my dms ??? and then reading my word vomits ??? and then you followed me ??? and everything that followed after ??? i don’t know what in the world i did to have you notice me and up to today it remains a mystery to me ngl. we love a talented, kindhearted, fantastic, stunning, visual writing queen who is ofc the right person to love thanks to the avatar discourse she started!!! choco, keep on enlightening everyone’s life with your mere existence, the tags you put in your reblogs that make me smile and of course, wonderful stories <33

@custardheart 💌 taylor, i don’t think we have ever talked (unless you approached me on anon maybe then maybe yes??) but i just wanted to thank you for blessing my notifications. you’ve been supporting me / on my notifs for quite a long time - may i say you’re like one of the first followers i had when i first started out? THAT’S how long you’ve been here already and i can’t thank you enough <333 (please don’t ask me why i know that but goddamn every time i see that jeonghan profile picture i already know it’s you djklj)

@dinoshaur 💌 sha! lee! i know we barely talk to each other but i just wanted to use this opportunity to thank you for making some of my days with your astounding fics!! one of my favorite works from you will always be “flower crown prince” because you have NO idea how much i struggle with finding seungkwan fics dkkjljlk i’m sorry i didn’t submit anything for the lfw challenge i really tried to make it but you know, life problems happened whoops. i wish you all the happiness and inspiration and love from chan himself you gifted angel uwu

@forevershua 💌 dear fossil mother ryan, i can’t believe i internally pronounced your name wrongly for pretty much half a year knowing you. please forgive me. okay, but all seriousness aside, you’re one of the closest people from this site!! i really love you so so much though i can’t guarantee that i love you as much as you love jeonghan more than shua; i still shed tears whenever i pull out your two postcards - especially the minghao one; i think i suffered from mild heart palpitations when i got it in the mail (and still do). i hope we get to meet this year and possibly clown rat together and just stay the somewhat sane person left in the gc <33 p.s HOW DO YOU FUNCTION WITHOUT A FRIDGE I STILL CANT BELIEVE THAT

@gamerwoo 💌 rocket, you’re always active when it’s the ungodly hour where i live and it has happened more often that i stay awake because of you. not only do i have loads of stuff i can queue from you (teehee) you recently started posting stories again and the ones you hammered out lately just??? do things to me??? for real though do you have sadistic tendencies or somethin because you posted TWO (2) nsfw stories that I indulged at 2 AM IN THE MORNING. aside from that minghao and junmyeon stuff, uuuh, i finally got around to finish your ghoul au which i completely adore!! i’m looking forward to your upcoming works uwu and hope you get all the positivity and good vibes only uwu (p.s i have to confess: my dumb ass seriously thought the “woo” in your url referred to jungwoo and for some good weeks i thought you ult jungwoo rIP ME)

@hearttoshu 💌 jess, i don’t know what in the world i did to have you notice me because i’m gonna be honest here, i was scared of you skaljdlkjslkj please i don’t even know why, you seemed very intimidating but i was proven wrong in an instant!! you are one super soft bean with hq gifs and a love for jun and shua that reaches up to infinity and beyond!! your tags always get the best out of me and i’m really grateful for having you in my life uwuwuwuwu

@jejublr 💌 ew rat, you’re finally adulting. jokes aside, you were the first victim to fall under my disastrous typo errors and may i say that i’m just simply ICONIC for forever slapping that legendary nickname on you uwu nat who?? we only know RAT. you’re the one person i can always run to when more serious issues are bugging me since i guess you can relate the most to my personal dilemmas and i just wanted to thank you for being there for me <33 that, and for keeping gran somewhat at bay. i hope we get to meet up this summer where i’ll feed you with lots of chocolate while teasing ryan about her biasing jeonghan LMAO and just like most people from the gc, you’re one of the first close mutuals i’ve made. in a way, you could say you’ve been with me here since day 1 (almost) xx

@jin-hua 💌 mayo / mango / mayo that tastes like mangoes / idk i bet i have misspelled your names approximately 993828 times in 937987 different variations but guess what? i still love u to death uwu i love me a fitness queen, a visual goddess not even god himself could ever and i’m so so glad that you exist in my life <333 i know i promised you a crackhead message but when i think about it there’s not really a lot to say that’s out of place when it comes to you?? you’re an angel uwuwu the light of my life frank could NEVER

@justsomekpopstuff 💌 jj it is i, your #1 supporter!! since you’re also part of the nug club gc from the beginning on, you have an extra special place in my heart <3 jj, i love how supportive you are and i don’t think you realize that i cherish you to the moon and back and that times 903809. i love how you get so fired up about your hockey team and like to gush and suffer from the wrath of Joshua hong and i hope you’ll stay eternally happy uwu that, and dRINK LESS COFFEE ISTG

@lxveille 💌 veille we’ve never interacted a lot but i just wanted to let you know that i admire you a LOT. i haven’t got around to read more of your works lately, but i do have a favorite fic that i still clearly remember. okay, that’s a lie, i have several that left a strong memory. but let’s say, if i had to reduce it to one fic, it’d be the 100wtsily dystopian au with jihoon and 66 & 70! you’re one of the very few writers who hit the dystopian genre spot on and you truly are an inspiration. seriously, thank you a lot veile xx

@middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich 💌 LOOK, i didn’t even know you changed blogs or something and i’m so eternally sorry that it took me ages to figure that out! (RIP me) you’re one of the first followers i had if i recall correctly (i’m pretty positive of that) and i just wanted to thank you for sticking with me so long uwuwuuwwu i wish you all the happiness bb <3

@multi-yeol 💌 haaaa we’ve only known each other since a day or something but i’m really glad we did!!!! honestly, that Loona song sorter is harder than any of the german exams i had and though we don’t know each other for so long, i hope we’ll talk more in the future bub!!!

@oatmealupdates 💌 lynna, you too are one of the first followers on my blog i’m wheEZING you’ve been here for so long sdlkjlkj thank you for your support and your comments under the fics always make my day i swear!! i’ve also noticed that you haven’t been that active as you used to be (maybe it’s just me idk sometimes my dash is kinda wacky) but all in all i hope you’re doing good!! if you ever need to talk to someone, you can always hmu <33

@queerjunhui 💌 vane, ngl, you really scared me at first. i was really intimidated by your for reasons i can’t even explain and i always thought you were out of my league sdkljlk i think we started talking since the cyzj thing and you’re one of the funniest and nicest people i’ve met so far on tumblr, seriously! your content - be it from your shitposts to mindless thoughts like the entire indirects to j*** * yES I STILL RECALL THEM - you always manage to make my day brighter whenever i see you on my dash. i wish you all the happiness and hope you’re doing good uwu

@seungcheolsbodyharness 💌 katey, sis i still think about that criminal seokmin and the entire au we made up - from FBI agent cheol to incompetent intern vernon and all that jazz. besides the fact that your url is a pure 10/10 as well as your other URLs, you’re such a nice person and i really enjoy your presence - be it in the form of reblogs of any kind of thing to the comments you occasionally leave and don’t get me started on the aSKS; katey, i’m so glad to have met you on this site!!! uwu

@softwonwoo 💌 jian darling!! honestly, i have no idea how you even know of my existence. just like pretty much everyone else i’ve tagged here you kinda had that intimidating aura?? but then the more i talked to you somehow, the more i was proven wrong and you’re such a sweet pea i can’t- also, i’m glad that i found someone who can agree with me when it comes to chungha dsakjlskj pls stay healthy, stay happy jian!!

@swyllh 💌 sara, i don’t think we have ever had a proper conversation, but i just wanted to give you my appreciation. you are one of the most underrated writers within the community yet you always give your best when it comes to your writing and honestly, i really admire you. i haven’t found the time to read your interactive fic yet (i keep pushing that back i am so sorry but i’ll get to that one day) and one of the fics that i absolutely adore is that one end of the world fic with chan, as well as the vernon collab with sha!! i really hope you’ll get the recognition and love you deserve you gifted writer !!

@tonicandjins 💌 faye my snowflake, i haven’t seen you around lately but if you read this, i hope everything’s alright from your side! i’m quite sure i’ve already mentioned this to you but i’ll say it again. i will NEVER shut up about one and two small petals and will NEVER recover from it. another banger is that wonwoo fic with the printer- ugh, you’re such a talented, beautiful person and i truly wish you all the best. remember, don’t stress yourself and relax once in a while uwu

@yeolsmiling 💌 angie hi!! i legit only sent you one (1) ask so i really don’t have much to say so far unless i wanna repeat myself lMAO one day, i aspire to purely emit soft energy for yeol but i doubt that day will ever come. i hope we get to talk more in the future you soft bear <33

honeybunch anon 💌 honeybunch, i hope you’re doing well! i still remember that i called you that when you slipped into my asks and gushed about that one mingyu fic up to this day i’m still flattered and eternally grateful that you’re still here uwu thank you for your support and making my day <33

fromis anon 💌 idk if you’ll ever read this but i miss you uwu i hope you’re doing fine and just a quick update from my side: i still haven’t found a bias yet uGH

sugarpie / tulip anon 💌 you seem like such a cool person i’m really glad you stopped by in my inbox thank you for hitting me up uwu since i have no clue who you are and since i’m a dumbass, i’m can only rely on you messaging me jslkdj

none of the letters are proofread i am so sorry

#i stayed away up until now to make this post #bc i know im gonna fall asleep straight after school oops #if u excuse me i'm going to bed now lkdslk #dara being dumb and dense #in other words: dara is currently mush with zero (0) brain cells and energy #it's 3 am and i gotta wake up in 3 hours pls #i have for sure forgotten someone ugh kms #softhaos antics

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xxlovendreamsxx · 7 years ago

Text

my savage, petrified heart.

A/N: to @finallybreathee for her birthday! she wanted, and i quote, rough heated "im so mad at you but I love you so much" sex.

also, forgive any typos in this, it’s completely unedited at the moment. and i hope it doesn’t seem rushed!

rated m.

“What the fuck were you thinking Sakura?” he hisses, when he finally manages to lead them both into their tent. His face is savage, his jaw clenched, but still he doesn’t let his reprimanding stare linger long on her before he’s already reaching roughly for her medical bag, one hand tightened around her uninjured side to keep her in place.

He’s angry—no, he’s furious, really—because she’s gotten herself stupidly hurt in an ambush he’d specifically told her to get away from, one he insisted he would deal with alone; because she couldn’t obey the only damn command he’d ever given her in their lives, and ended up putting the two of them in danger.

Wincing, Sakura tries not to mind the brusqueness with which he begins to clean her wound, brows furrowing. “Sasuke-kun, be careful, that hurts—”

“Bear it,” he snaps. “You’re the one who didn’t listen to me.”

But his touch gentles against her, anyway, she notices.

“Look, Sasuke-kun,” she says, eyes softening as she smooths a hand over his shoulder, thumb brushing his skin over his clothes, “I’m sorry that I—”

“Don’t,” Sasuke bites out, throwing her a warning glare as he tosses away the bloodied antiseptic tissues harshly. “I don’t want to fucking hear it. You should have listened to me. You should have gotten out of there like I told you to, when you still had the time—not throw yourself out there and make yourself the main target!”

Sasuke has never been one to doubt her abilities in battle before, to doubt that she is able to do anything less than handle herself, and Sakura knows this; it isn’t that he thought she was too weak to protect herself, or that he thought she’d far overestimated herself.

Rather, Sasuke had only ever been afraid. Petrified that life was going to work its cruel ways on him once more, that it would take away everything he held most dear yet again: his wife, of barely four months now… and the little miracle they’d only just two weeks ago learned she carried in her belly.

“Heal yourself,” he says gruffly, when he finally finishes cleaning up the wide, deep cut at her side. He only pulls away when she complies and begins to heal the damage, shoving the medical supplies back into her bag with more force than would ever be necessary.

“You couldn’t have handled them all alone, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura tries to explain as she works to switch her skin back together. “Chunin level or not, there were fifteen of them. What did you expect me to do? Stand by and watch them—”

“I would have been fine,” Sasuke retorts sharply, furious mismatched eyes turning on her again as he swiftly angles to face her. “Susano would have handled them all without a problem—”

“But you didn’t have enough chakra for Susano and you know it!” she yells back, green, green eyes finally hardening at last. He was so thick-headed sometimes, so stupidly stubborn, and it frustrated her beyond means. “I did what I had to do as a kunoichi, Sasuke-kun. As your teammate, your medic, your mission partner—and as your wife.”

“I wouldn’t have died—”

“I don’t care,” she cuts in, face and tone now severe, impatient. “You would have been hurt, Sasuke-kun, and I wasn’t going to just sit by, or much less run, and let that happen.”

“So you thought you’d get yourself hurt instead?” Sasuke snarls, gritting his teeth harder, eyes flashing, just as angry as before. “That you’d put your life at stake—our child’s life at stake?”

She bristles. “I wasn’t planning to get hurt, you absolute ape—and I never would have if my morning sickness hadn’t started acting up in the middle of the—”

“But you did get hurt!” Sasuke shouts, and there is such desperation in his tone that Sakura quiets instantly, breath catching in her throat.

(there isn’t just fury anymore, there is sadness. fear. an absolute heart wrenching desire to keep the one he loves safe, unscathed.)

Something in her face must have reached him, she muses, because Sasuke quiets too, and finally reaches for her, lone hand curling around her shirt to drag her close. He presses his forehead to her own, shifts his hand protectively over her belly, and swallows, closing his eyes.

“You got hurt,” he grits out, “and I couldn’t do anything about it. You could have gotten killed, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again, Sakura.”

“You won’t have t—”

But he kisses her before she really has a chance to finish what she is saying, moving his mouth harshly, slowly; a silent reprimand, she knows. Sakura makes a sound in response, uncertain as to whether this is the wisest thing right now, but cannot help but to kiss him back all the same as the moments pass, melting into him too easily. She gasps out his name, lets him lower her back onto their thin sleeping mattresses, fingers tugging sharply at his hair as he roughly tugs off her clothes and eagerly fits his mouth to whatever patch of skin he bares.

But he’s irritated, still, and that much is made clear in the way he keeps grabbing at her so vehemently, shoving and pulling and moving her body exactly how he wants it; fingers fierce in the way they squeeze and teeth punishing in the way they bite. Sakura doesn’t mind this though, only moans and digs her nails into his skin, scratching approvingly against his scalp and his back. Arches against his touch and wraps her lips around his ear—

But then his hand slips in the wet crest between her thighs, and his fingers find their home, and Sakura begins to quickly grow a little too overwhelmed at the near-brutal pace that he sets up.

“W-Wait,” she cries. “S-Sasuke-kun, wait, you know I’m—ah!—sensitive lately—”

His mouth swallows the rest of her complaints, and Sakura whimpers helplessly, shuddering and bucking halfway into and away from him, mind tumbling into incoherence. She can feel tears brimming at the corner of her eyes, can hardly even heave the next breath into her chest, but then his thumb comes and rubs against the part that is most needy, and she breaks apart so quickly it takes her by surprise.

Sasuke doesn’t even allow her time to catch her wits, though, barely helping her ride out the too clearly powerful waves with greedy strokes before he draws his fingers out and guides one of her limp, shaking legs over his shoulder, sinking his cock into her twitching depths.

“S-Sasuke-kun—!” she gasps out as he mercilessly starts moving already, lone hand gripping at her ass as he bucks her up against his quick, hard thrusts. Her own hands snatch out, catching weakly against his snapping hips. She digs her nails into his skin, crying out again. “Sasuke-kun, please, s-stop! I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he growls, and merely grinds into her harder, capturing her lips with his own once more.

Sakura barely has the strength to respond, tears finally slipping down her cheeks as he brings his thumb to her clit and mindlessly sends her barreling into release once more, wiping all senses from her consciousness for what seemed like forever.

He’s bowing into her body and clutching at her thigh when she comes back to herself, grunting sounds and syllables of her name against her nape. Scraping his teeth against her skin, his hips jerk and quiver as he spills his hot sticky wetness into her welcoming warmth. Sakura bites her lip, relishes in the feeling; she wants to pull him closer, to wrap her legs around his waist and keep him buried there, but she’s so sapped of her energy that she barely even manages to lace her arms around his neck and curl one shaking hand around his damp dark hair.

“That—That was too much, Sasuke-kun…” she tells him when she finally recollects enough of her mind to think again. At least he’s just as out of breath as she is, she reflects, judging by the hot, winded gasps he puffs against her neck.

“You deserved it,” he replies, rolling onto his back at last. He pants for a few long moments, evidently trying to gather back more of his own mind, but ultimately shifts onto his side to look at her once more, gaze soft.

Thoughtfully, most gently, Sasuke stretches out his only hand, and splays it affectionately on her still-flat stomach, stroking the skin tenderly. “Be more careful,” he says, so quietly. Vulnerably. “Please. If anything were to happen to you, I…”

He trails out, then, but she doesn’t need him to go on. It is too clear what words are left unsaid, what he means to express.

I don’t know what I’d do. You’re everything to me—you, and this baby. So please, take care. Stop putting yourselves at risk.

Throat growing tight, Sakura merely puts a hand over his own, and nods, promising him that she’ll do her best.

A/N: happy birthday darling! hope this brightened your lately shitty days <3

#sasusaku #ssfanfiction #mel writes things #otp: a once in a lifetime love #sasusaku smut

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eddiespagheds · 7 years ago

Note

can you please do “i don’t want to hear your excuses anymore” and “how fucking dare you” for the angst prompt thing?? i love your writing and i’ve been craving some good reddie angst. tysm!

oKAy so 1. THANK YOU IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOY MY WRITING💞💞 2. i am SO SO sorry that this has taken so long to come out i just wanted it to be really goOD!! this is sad as shit and i’m so sorry about that, but like aNgSt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i don’t have a title for this and i rlly rlly hope you like it !!! (its 1560 words) also also big thanks to loml dipstopher for readin through it for me!! @ass-gardiann

————————

The summer of ‘84 is when it all seemed to go wrong for Eddie Kaspbrak. He had come out as gay, and told his best friend, Richie Tozier, that he was in love with him. The Losers were very accepting of him, and a few others in the group have even come out at gay or bi since then, but Richie (being the bisexual disaster he is lmao) didn’t talk to Eddie for an entire week after he told Richie about his feelings, and things haven’t been the same between the two since then.

That was about two years ago, and more than just Eddie and Richie’s relationship has changed since then. Eddie became a star runner on the varsity track team, and he has only remained friends with Mike and Ben because they were also on the track and field team. He hadn’t spoken to the rest of the Losers since he became “popular”, only sending them awkward waves as he walked down the hallway with his girlfriend Great Bowie. Yes, the same Greta that used to make fun of Eddie and would call him a stupid fairy.

Now, he didn’t lie to the Losers when he came out at 15 years old, quite the opposite actually, he was lying about his sexuality now in fear of the response that he’d get from those around him, that they would do what Richie did.

It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t miss the Losers, and that was obvious because of how often he asked Mike and Ben how they were doing. The rest of the Losers missed Eddie just as much as he missed them, but they all knew that Richie would have to be the one to solve the problem. Both boys seemed to be absolute disasters without the other. Richies bad smoking habit only got worse, and Eddie’s anxiety worsened. No matter how upset they were they both knew, deep down that they needed each other to feel complete.

It was a cold day in Derry, and it was only getting colder as sundown approached. Eddie had stayed late after track practice, so he could get a few more laps in. Running cane so natural to Eddie that he never had to think about what he was doing, so he normally thought about whatever was stressing him out which was usually Richie, school, his mom, or all three. Today he was thinking about how Greta had broken up with him for some cooler guy that was on the football team, and Richie because Ben had told him this funny story about how the taller boy fell while attempting to learn a skateboard trick. He smiled, thinking about the grin that Richie probably had plastered on his face after the fall, when he stepped in a rock that he hadn’t noticed and tumbled to the round.

“Aghh” He yelled out in pain. He was sure that he had sprained his ankle. He couldn’t just sit there on the grumpy track, so he picked himself up and began limping to the empty locker room to collect his things, whimpering every few steps as he walked out of the building and begun making his way towards his house when he heard a voice he would never forget.

“Eds?”

The annoyingly wonderful nickname that he hadn’t heard in what felt like forever, and hearing it now made his heart break more than he expected. He froze hoping that if he just ignored it, Richie would go away, but he knew that wouldn’t happen, and deep down, he knew he didn’t want it to. Eddie turned around to face the boy that broke his heart by denying his young heart years prior. Tears stung at his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the throbbing pain his ankle was exerting, or the overwhelming amount of emotions he was feeling. He slowly turned around, cringing at the amount of pain he was feeling throughout his whole body.

“Eds holy shit are you okay?”

It may have been two years since they had last spoken, but Richie was yet to forget anything about Eddie, knowing fully well that he wasn’t okay. Eddie on the other hand, wasn’t aware of this, and believed he was doing a rather good job at concealing his feelings.

“Yeah, I’m fine, and don’t call me Eds, Richard” He spit our Richie’s name as if he was disgusted by the thought of the other boy, though he wanted nothing more than to be held by him.

“Sorry…Eddie.” He let out, his voice cracking at how much he was hurting in that moment. Eddie was about to walk away, not wanted to deal with the problem he’s avoided for so long anymore than he already has.

“Wait, let me drive you home at least! You can’t walk with your ankle fucked up like that, it’ll only make it worse.” Richie practically yelled out, not wanting Eddie to leave. No matter how hard he tried to put on the facade of someone who didn’t give a fuck, it would almost always falter when it came to the people that were important to him.

Eddie pondered Richie’s offer, knowing that he was right, but he unsure if he was mentally prepared for the awkward car that would be ahead of him if he agreed. After a few moments Eddie finally spoke up.

“Fine.”

The whole car ride Eddie tapped his foot to the loud, nostalgic rock music that Richie was playing while Richie thought up the perfect apology because he couldn’t let Eddie slip out of his hands for the second time. They pulled up to the Kaspbrak house, and Eddie placed his right hand on the door handle to exit the vehicle when Richie placed his large hand over Eddie’s left. Eddie froze not sure how this next conversation was about to play out. Richie took a deep breath before finally speaking.

“Eds I am so sorry I ever hurt you, I just didn’t understand you, my feelings, or anything really. I never meant to hurt you i just-“ Richie was speaking at a rapid pace, but somehow Eddie was able to grasp onto every word. He cut him off when he had finally had enough. He wasn’t sure what was going to come out next, but he didn’t care. He was finally going to let out all of the pent up anger he had let build up.

“Stop it Richie! I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore!” Eddie wanted to be mad, he really did, but that was extremely difficult since he could see the sincerity and utter sadness in Richie’s eyes.

“Eddie I am so sorry, for everything I-” He stopped, the two boys licking eyes. Eddie didn’t speak because he knew that Richie clearly had more to say. “I-I love you Eddie.” He was finally able to choke out what he had been feeling since he was a child, but Eddie only shook his head in disbelief.

“How fucking dare you. What makes you think you can hurt me the way you did, not speak to me for two whole fucking years, and then come back into my life as if nothing happened. Literally so much has happened Rich. You made me cry alone in my room for weeks on end, making me feel like I shouldn’t be who I am. I thought that if anyone were to accept me, it’d be you, but I was naive to that it would be okay in this shitty town we live in.” Eddie was sobbing at this point. His words were full of anger and they mushed together. “You made me feel like…like I shouldn’t love you. Like i couldn’t be your best friend.” Eddie softly let out that last part, half hoping Richie couldn’t hear him over the sounds of his sobs and heavy breathing.

Richie heard every word though, his heart breaking a bit more as he spoke each sad word. Without thinking, Richie unbuckled his seatbelt, and reached across the vehicles, pulling Eddie into a tight embrace, sobbing himself.

“Eddie, I am so sorry I made you feel that way. You don’t deserve that, I just didn’t know how to deal with my own shit. It was never you. You’re perfect Eddie.”

They sat in each other’s arms, crying until Eddie realized that he should get inside before his mother came out looking for him. They separated, looking into each other’s sad eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Richie reached up and wiped away Eddie’s tears with his thumb, and it was just as warm as Eddie remembered. A few years fell down Richie’s face as he admired Eddie’s gorgeous features. He had a feeling Eddie was about to walk out of his life for the second and final time.

“I am so sorry Eddie, and I hope that one day you can bring yourself to forgive me.”

More and more tears began to stream down his pale face he watched the love of his life step out of the car and walk into his house without looking back. Richie sat in his car crying for thirty minutes, not leaving until his vision was finally clear enough for him to drive, not knowing that Eddie sat crying in his home watching him the whole time.

perma taglist: @wlwrichie @eddiehoney @kingsteve-more-like-dadsteve @trashmouths-love-to-cuddle @puzzlin

#reddie oneshot #reddie fanfic #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #eddiek #richie tozier #angst #it 2017 #it movie

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 7 years ago

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The Cursed Side of This Family Chapter 5

(look here for chapter 4) (look here for Chapter 6)

Slow burn, Tommy x Esme, grief, guilt, lust, drugs…What’s not to love?

In this installment, Esme has a sexy flashback...

Drifting in and out of sleep, Esme could not seem to find the rest that she needed. She was all out of smoke, and wouldn’t dare ask Tommy if he had any, even though she knew that he would sometimes use it to help him quiet his mind when nothing else would.

She got out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Drawing the lace curtain aside and looking down on watery lane, she recalled that this was not the first time that Thomas Shelby left her flushed, confused, and restless.

Her thoughts wandered back to an accidental late night meeting in Charlie’s yard. John had come home drunk, loud, and smelling of whores one too many times. Esme had practically thrown the baby into his arms and then stalked out the door, leaving him with a houseful of newly woken, bawling children. “Fuck you, Esme!” John slurred at her back as she walked away.

“It’ll be cold day in hell before you get the pleasure again,” she roared through gritted teeth as she stormed down the lane. Their relationship had always been odd. Fixed. Arranged. But, the spark of passion was there from the first night, for both of them, and it always hurt her when he strayed. They viciously fought, but making-up was always sweet. She knew that tomorrow morning he would pick a bouquet of wildflowers, bring her tea in bed, and put his head in her lap. He’d be all baleful looks and tears, begging for her forgiveness. As always, she would forgive him.

Tonight, however, Esme was full of devilment. She half considered going into the Garrison to even the score. There was no doubt she could find someone with which to spend the night. She was not a conventional beauty, but she was sexy. A riot of wild black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, her black eyes flashed under their sweeping lashes, and the curves of her body had only become more supple and pronounced in motherhood. She was everything a man could want in his bed, but she didn’t want any man’s bed. As easy as it would have been to make John pay for his indiscretions by knowing that she had fucked another man, she could never go through with it. Her heart wouldn’t let her, and it would be as good as a death warrant for the poor man whom she bedded.

The night air was crisp and felt good in her lungs, cooling her down and helping her to gain control of her emotions. She boldly decided to walk as far as Charlie’s yard. One of her favorite mares had delivered a foal, and she had yet to see it. The horses always helped her to see sense. She’d always said that she’d been born riding, and that wasn’t far from the truth. Growing up on the road, horses were a part of her everyday life before she could crawl. Their gentle majesty grounded her, and in the crazy world of Small Heath Esme needed to visit them often. The risk of walking through the dark streets was well worth it to her if she ended up at the stables.

As she approached the stables, she noticed a faint light and thought that maybe Curly had come down to check on the new foal. She called out, “Curly, it’s just me, Esme. I’ve come to see the black mare and her…” Before she could finish, the door swung open and Tommy, wild eyed, stood in the doorway. “Come on in, Esme. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I…I didn’t know you were here, Thomas.”

“Does it matter?”

“No…” it sounded like a question coming out of her mouth, but she could see that something was definitely very wrong with Tommy and she didn’t know quite how to approach him. Tommy wasn’t wearing his usual jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his shirt was soaked with sweat

Esme carefully ventured a question, “Where’s the foal?”

“Dead. He didn’t make it.” Peering from the shadows, he never broke eye contact as he spoke to her, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. As he spoke, the familiar scent of whiskey reached Esme’s nose.

“I’m sorry Thomas.” Esme spoke softly, carefully, almost as if she was speaking to a horse that could easily spook.

“No need for that. It’s all part of it, eh?” he lied.

But she knew better. Thomas Shelby never lost his cool. He could stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching, but the death of the foal had shaken him. He loved horses more than he could love most people. That was something that he and Esme had in common. He stepped into the light and she noticed that his eyes, which had finally shifted away hers, were red and wet.

“Couldn’t wait until morning to see an ‘orse? Don’t you think the streets of Small Heath are a bit more hospitable in the light of day?” As he spoke he handed Esme a nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

Taking the bottle, Esme snarled, “Your pig of a brother came home drunk and smelling of whores. It was either leave the house or gut him with a kitchen knife.” She drained the remaining contents of the bottle and handed it back to Tommy.

Tommy barely suppressed a low chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Thomas.”

“You’re right, my girl. It’s not. He should treat you with a bit more respect. At least wash up and put on a fresh shirt before he crawls home.”

“Fuck you, Thomas.”

“Oh, come on, Esme. I’m only pointing out the absurdity of the situation. Why on earth would he need to fuck whores when he has you at home? I would never do that to you.”

Esme felt a warmth run down her spine at his words, for they were spoken softly and sincerely. When Tommy raised his icy blue gaze back to hers, she could feel her cheeks flush and her stomach draw into a knot.

“Thank you, Thomas.” She whispered.

The corners of his lips raised a little, almost into a smile, but not quite.

His words implied an affection for her that she never knew had existed, and her mind slid sideways. Thomas actually cared about her. The king of Small Heath, with his razor crown, had a beating heart after all. They stood in thick silence for what seemed like hours. Their eyes locked on to each other until it felt, surreally, like they were drawing closer.

“Right then. Let’s get you home. I don’t want you wandering the streets of Small Heath at this hour. A bit unseemly, don’t you think?” Tommy spoke, and the spell was broken.

Tommy led her to a stall which held a white stallion. “How ‘bout I take you home on ‘im?”

Esme lit up as the horse nuzzled her hand. “He’s beautiful, Tom. Where’d you get him?”

“Won ‘im off Johnny Dogs. One day that Gypsy bastard will learn not to bet against me.”

Esme laughed, in spite of herself. She knew that Tommy’s Grandfather was a Gypsy King, and he meant no harm against her kin.

The night was getting colder by the minute, and Esme was grateful for the warmth that the whiskey had provided. Tommy pulled his coat on, and grabbed an extra one that he kept at the stables.

“Here, put this on. It’s gotten colder since you came in.”

Esme gratefully bundled up in Tommy’s coat. It smelled like Tommy’s sweat, whiskey, horses, and smoke- a smell not very unlike John’s.

Outside on the gravel Tommy helped her mount. She hitched her dress up and swung her leg over, a little embarrassed at the view that Tommy would have. She was more embarrassed when she saw the red state of his ears as he mounted behind her. Tommy clicked his tongue and the horse began to lope down the lane. Riding through the streets bareback, Esme had to grip the horse with her thighs. Simultaneously, she could feel the warmth of Tommy’s body at her back and his slow steady breath on her ear.

She had never been this close to him before. Tommy had always kept a carefully guarded distance from her. Where Arthur’s demeanor always had the rough affection of a brother, with his bear hugs and mussing up her hair, Tommy always kept a formal tone. Now, she was sat between his thighs, and rocking movement of the horse did little to quiet the stirring she felt between hers.

As they rode past the BSA, flames from the forge spooked the stallion, and he reared up on his back legs. Tommy gripped Esme tightly to him, leaving no room between them. She could feel his heart racing against her back, and she soon realized that he had his chin on her shoulder and his cheek pressed to her’s. His hand was just under her breasts, strong and insistent. He pulled the reins and spoke in rich, low tones to the animal, shushing and reassuring him. Even with all the whiskey Tommy had consumed, he kept a clear head when it came to horses, and he soon had the stallion calmed down. Esme caught her breath and relaxed against Tommy’s chest. It took a second too long for him to loosen his grip on her waist and for his chin to leave her shoulder, but Esme didn’t mind.

They soon were at the door to the house she shared with John, who burst out into the street the second that they rode up.

Tommy dismounted first. “I have brought your wife home, Brother. I need a word with you.”

They walked a few feet away and Tommy bent down, his mouth close to John’s ear. He murmured something that made John’s head snap up. John glared at Tommy defiantly. Tommy put his hand on the back of John’s neck and pulled him closer again. He hissed something into John’s ear and John nodded his resignation to whatever Tommy had said.

Tommy returned to help Esme down, and once she was on the ground he faced her. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble out of him for a while.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles, Thomas Shelby.” Esme snapped, immediately regretting her harsh tone. “But, thank you. For everything,” she said with a much softer voice.

Once inside the house, John started babbling a stream of apologies. Esme held her hand up to him, and said, “Just leave it, John. I’ll be up in a bit.”

John went up the stairs, and Esme fixed herself a glass of whiskey. She swirled the amber liquid and smiled. It smelled like Thomas. Tomorrow, she would be John’s faithful and loving wife, but tonight, in John’s bed, she’d close her eyes and imagine herself getting up to a little devilment.

(Look here for Chapter 6)

#peaky blinder imagines #tommy shelby #esme shelby #john shelby #Peaky Blinders fiction

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