#but now that I’m officially gone and we’re broken up it hurts him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellamyblake · 7 months ago

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Part 42of the single!dad Bellamy fic is posted! Here are the people who asked to be tagged (if you want to be removed please let me know): @pendragaryen, @takamurasposts, @star-sky-earth, @blakecholls, @theturquoiseoillady, @sarcasticcommentsetc, @peggysousfan, @whiteoleander, @chickens474; (I'm sorry for taking so long to update!)

(moodboard by @star-sky-earth):

Though she may not officially be a Factory one she knew where she belonged and her home had no station names or section numbers-it was a place of her own made up by the two boys she loved the most right now-Bellamy and Gus.

Despite the circumstances, that thought made her smile.

When they crossed over, Clarke hurried to help Bellamy lean on the side of the wall and catch his breath. Now that his crutch was gone because of the guard, he was even more unstable on his feet and his left hand flailed for something to hold on to, so she gripped it tight and gave him a moment to calm himself down.

“This may just have been the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” she whispered in a quiet angry hiss and he smiled a little while trying to catch his breath but she felt his fingers grip her back.

“You know me...” he said through ragged breaths “Stupid is my middle name.”

“Oh, please-” she scoffed rolling her eyes at him and he finally looked up at her only for her to notice the bruise already blooming on his cheek right under his beautiful brown eye hiding his freckles away and she cups his cheek with her fingers making him wince. “Do you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Why did I not expect a different answer from you.” she sighs again and notices the way he’s cradling his side with his hand right where the guard kicked him so she grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up touching the tender skin of his stomach and feeling his ribs, making him wince again. “I swear if you keep this up, your ribs will never not be broken.”

“It’s okay, I think he hit my stomach not...not the ribs.”

“That’s not good either, you can have internal bleeding.” it’s his turn to roll his eyes and shake his head stubbornly.

“I’m going to be fine, let’s just go home before Gus freaks out we’re gone.” he pushes off the wall but he’s definitely unstable on his feet again and she can tell he overtired himself and pushed himself too much by coming with her tonight. They’re both thinking it but neither one of them is saying it as they refused to argue in the Factory station hallways.

He stubbornly tries to walk on his own but of course he staggers and she grabs his arm and throws it over her own shoulders, pushing her body to his side and slowly walking ahead. He tries to rush it in, probably worried about Gus but the pain must be severe because he stops out of nowhere and grips her side where his hand was wrapped around her waist in a quiet plea to give him a second.

“It shouldn’t be this bad.” Clarke huffs angrily when they stop again just a few feet from their hallway.

“I had been off for almost two days.” he protest and she rolled her eyes again.

“Yes and then before that you worked for over fifteen hours non-stop and had a very hectic week.”

“It’s work.” he cuts off a little too harsh probably because of his pain “I have to do it, you know that.” he sounds tired but she senses the judgement in his voice and knows what he’s implying, so she stops abruptly and pulls away from him for a moment.

“And I don’t, is that what you’re saying?”

“Clarke-”

“I don’t have to go to Farm or Factory and help people, right?” she snaps and moves them to a quieter corner, even though there were barely any people walking around now that everyone was mostly home after crossing back to their homes.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” he tries to explain but it comes out too weak and it just confirms to her that this is exactly what he’s been thinking-she didn’t have to go out there and he did.

“But it’s what you’re thinking and it shows through all your actions.” she barks back, forgetting for a moment that she no longer held his arm as tightly, that she had mostly let him go and he was leaning on the metal wall with his other hand, barely keeping himself standing.

He shakes his head and tries to take a step on his own but he almost falls in the process and she grips him tightly again, worry washing over her-why was he so bad? This didn’t make much sense to her, he was supposed to have rested at least a little and he still seemed absolutely wrecked as if he’s spent every possible minute working his ass off.

“The bench-” he nods at the nearest metal bench just a few feet from them and she slowly helps him there, sitting him down and watching as he struggled to take his breath. He looked so broken that it made her feel bad for aguing with him. She took his hand in hers and gripped it thightly in quiet support while he caught his breath.

“You should ask for more days off.” she suggested but he shook his head hard without looking at her, eyes still closed and his other hand gripping his bad leg.

“If I do, will you stop going out there?” he asks raising his eyebrow at her when he finally manages to lean on the bench and breath a little better.

“You know I can’t-” she protests “Just like you.”

“It’s not the same.” he argues again, getting angrier once more which she senses and in turn that makes her own flame burn brighter.

“Except that it is!” she raises her voice a little and he clenches his jaw at her, both because of her stubborness and also clearly because he was still in pain despite sitting down. She had to take care of it when they came back home, that’s if he allowed her to...knowing him he’d probably fight her. “Bellamy, people are hurt out there! I cannot just let them suffer when I could help them.”

“You know that you’re literally forbidden from doing so! Goddammit, Clarke you almost died last time, your friend died-”

“I don’t need you to remind me of it, I know what happened!” she snapped and he bowed his head down at her “I can’t believe that after all this time, you’re no different than any of those Alpha assholes including my mother, who try to control my life.”

“I’m not doing that!” he raised his voice, offended at her accusation, clearly unhappy that he was compared to the one person he knew she couldn’t stand being around, especially lately. “Don’t you get it, princess? I just worry!” her face softens at that but for just a moment before she remembers to stand her ground.

“And I worry about you too, but I don’t stop you from going to work!” she points out again and he rolls his eyes gripping his leg again which she didn’t miss.

“I don’t think you realize how dangerous this is” he stated seriously, trying to knock some sense into her “You could get caught and when you do, the chancellor won’t be as forgiving this time, Wells won’t be able to help you or your mom and dad. Or I.”

“I don’t need saving!” she points out “I know damn right what I’m doing.” she’s glad there aren’t any other people in the hallway or they’de have brought a lot of attenion on themselves “These people need my help, Bellamy. Just like you did when you were hurt! I can’t leave them behind, not right now, not after everything they’ve been through!”

“What about Gus and I?” he points out next, leaning on the bench once more, stretching out his leg and trying to relax it “Did you ever think about that?”

“What about it?” she asks confused and he looks a little hurt when she does.

“It’s no longer just you going off against your parents or the system, Clarke.” his voice goes desperate, sad in a way it hadn’t been before “When you came to live with us...for better or for worse we became a family.” she bows her head down in shame-he did have a point here. “Whatever is going on between us it’s new but...it’s important to me and Gus....Gus adores you and losing you after everything that has happened in the past year...that will destroy him, Clarke.”

She sighs, he had a point here, she truly hadn’t stopped to think about what this would mean for him or Gus and she suddenly felt herself guilty. She had promised the kid so many times she’d be there for him, that she’d take care of him if something happened to Bellamy but the first chance she got, she was ready to throw it all away.

“You’re right...” she admits, shoving her hands under her thighs and staring down at her feet “I didn’t think about that.” he doesn’t say anything to this, waits patiently as she closes her eyes and thinks it through “But you risk your life every day, despite your injuries, despite the fact that you should work half a day or not at all considering your physical state.”

“Clarke-”

“No, please hear me out. You and I both know that the way you’re pushing yourself now...it will worsen things long-term but you do it for Gus and for me.” he clenches his jaw, not being able to argue with that logic, not really, knowing that it’s not wrong “You can’t simply stay idly by.” she swallows hard “And I need you to understand that...I can’t either.” he sighs at that but grits his teeth and shakes his head but she’s faster than him this time and interrupts him before he can argue with her.

“I know you’re afraid, I do, Bellamy.” he looks into her eyes all sad and broken when she says it like this “I know it well because I worry about you too, every day. I wonder all the time if you’ll come back in one piece, if you’ll be fine-there’s no difference here between your fears for me and mine.”

“Except there is-” he argues feverntly again “You were so close to death, Clarke.” he whispers scaredly “So close.”

“And so were you. So ARE you, every day but Gus, I and your mom...we still let you go in the morning.” he sucks in a breath clearly disagreeing with her but refusing to argue with it and she knows why-a part of him agrees, he is slowly letting sink in the fact that she could possibly be right. “Can you understand that?” he bows down his head and grips his leg again, clearly in so much more pain than she ever supposed at first.

“I’m...trying to but you have to understand me too, Clarke-” he doesn’t look at her now, instead he focuses on the wall ahead, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes and clenching his jaw “I lost Gina. I lost the mother of my child, my first love...” he stops for a second and finally looks at her “I can’t lose my second. I can’t go through this again.”

She feels bad for him in this moment, so awfully bad because she never thought that much about the point he was making now, she never realized what this actually means for him but now that he says it, now that he’s looking into her with his eyes big and broken and his hands shaking, his body breaking apart on a damn Factory bench, she feels horrible for making him go through this.

But then there’s also another side of things, a side that she just can’t let go of-maybe it was just who she was as a person but she couldn’t change it and if Bellamy really loved her then he’d understand that.

For a moment there they sit in silence and she covers his hand in hers, rubs her thumb over his calloused palm, made notice of the skin there, the way it broke on the outside, how harsh it felt, like sandpaper and how it swell on the inside, caused blisters that hardened. She takes her time to feel his fingers, his knuckles that had broken more than once-there was a big cut on his left palm which she had took notice of before after they fooled around for the first time and he pushed her to his chest, his hand ending up on her bare stomach, rubbing up and down. She got ticklish when she felt him there and at first she thought it was just his bruises but then she picked up his hand and looked at it, saw the long jagged scar inside and asked him how he got that.

“My first serious work injury when I was twelve.” he had said watching as she traced it with her fingers “I worked in the Factory mess hall. They made me open up cans of fish and meat for some of the councilmen that had come to have lunch there after a meeting. I was in a rush and my boss was pretty awful. He used to beat me and the other cooks with a stick on the hands when we weren’t fast enough-” Clarke had winced then but then clenched his hand in both of hers “I slided my hand when one of the can openers slipped through my fingers. There was so much blood I almost passed out.”

“Did you go to medbay? Get it taken care of?” he shook his head and smiled.

“Medbay?” he had said in disbelief “My mom stitched it up with a red thread and bandaged it in some clean rags. Put me to bed and kissed my forehead-that was it.”

She thought of their conversation then, wondering what would’ve happened if she had gotten a cut like that as a child-surely her mom would’ve freaked out, taken her to medbay or stitched her at home, probably give her a local anesthetic and meticiously wrap her wound in a gauze and bandages. Then put her to bed with her dad, play some cartoons for her. Her dad would pamper her for days after, kiss her forehead and fingers to take the pain away, maybe even carry her on a horseback for a while to lift her mood up.

Bellamy was hardened by life-he got hurt, he stitched it up somehow and then he moved on because that’s how life in Factory worked. There was no time for pampering, smoldering or spoiling. You took a breath, then another and you pushed-for your mother, for your child. He had no other choice, never knew anything else.

Until he lost Gina. And then despite it all he kept pushing but his world was crumbled. It got totally fucked up then, his life changed completely and then it did once more when he choose to protect Clarke from the bomb and got hurt instead-first he lost his soul and then with her, he lost his body. Or at least he lost what he used to have and his life inevitably changed making everything even harder. If he hadn’t done what he had, she wouldn’t be sitting here today with him. She’d be dead or at least as fucked up as he was.

“Bellamy,-” she begins again taking a deep breath and staring down at their joined hands “You know you’re the bravest person that I’ve ever met right?” she looks up at him and of course, in his typical Bellamy fashion, he seems confused, like what on earth are you talking about Clarke-Brave? Me?

He shakes his head and shrugs it off just like she thought he would.

“You are.” she insists, squiezing his hand again “And I know that you get up every day and you chose to be braver no matter what challenge life throws at you.” he swallows hard but listens carefully to her “I do realize that what I’m asking from you is a lot-” she continues “To send me out there, to know that I could be caught but-” she takes in a breath and stares into his beautiful brown eyes, pleading “Bellamy, I have to do this.”

He snaps his head away as if she’s burned or slapped him and pulls his hand back from hers which she tries not to think too hard about-she was hurting him, of course he was acting like this.

She gives him a moment and watches as he squeezes the side of the bench with his fingers, grits his teeth and thinks hard over her words before he finally speaks out.

“You’re wrong, you know?” he whispers “I’m not brave.” he admits “I’m just scared.” she opens her mouth to protest but he is the one to interrupt her this time “But one thing is true-you can’t base relationships on fear and I don’t want to be some controlling ass like your mom or Wells.” Clarke’s face crumbles a little and she reaches for his hand again which he takes this time between both of his.

“I don’t agree with this but I won’t try to stop you.” he finally says and Clarke smiles a little before scooting closer to him and reaching out to hug him. He hugs her back but weakly and she knows it’s not because he doesn’t want to but rather because he’s tired and in pain.

“I’ll come with you, though.” he adds next and she looks up confused “If you’re going to do this, you need someone to have your back. We need to be smart about it-you can’t go around jumping stations whenever you feel like it-someone will notice and you’ll get caught.” Clarke thinks over his words and knows that even if she wants to fight him about pushing himself even harder just to let her have what she needs, she won’t win “We’ll do it after I’m done with work. Harper will get you a fake ID, maybe even a few and I’ll be keeping watch while you work, how does that sound?”

“Okay.” she nods pursing her lips a little “But on one condition.”

“There’s no room for conditions, princess.” he points out, raising his eyebrow but she juts her chin and crosses her arms over her chest.

“I need you to promise that you’ll let me take care of your leg every day.” he shakes his head stubbornly at that but she squeezes his fingers once more “Every day, Bellamy.” she insists “In the morning before work or after. The weekends too.” he opens his mouth to argue but she shuts him off “I won’t take no for an answer-if you want to come with me, keep me safe then I need to find a way to make sure you’re safe out there too. You said it before when we first started this-it’s not a one-sided thing. We’re in this together.”

Bellamy keeps his eyes on her for a while and when he sees that she won’t back down, he finally relents, huffs like a particularly tired angry horse neighing after a hard argument with their master and then shows his agreement with a small barely visible nod.

Clarke smiles, takes it as a win and her heart screams that she just wants to hug him so so badly but she decides to pace herself-there was time for that at home, right now they just needed to get there.

They slowly get up and he lets her support him without much of a fuss-just like before he knew that he needed the crutch to get to Farm station-he was a stubborn idiot but not that stupid, he’d never let himself fall and put her in a situation where she wouldn’t know what to do or how to help him.

When they finally made it home, Gus jumped from the bed the moment they opened the door, even though his grandma was reading him his favorite Anne of Green Gables, only apparently the next part, which Bellamy had somehow managed to find in the black market and buy for the kid.

“Dada!” he had squeaked and reached his little arms up to his dad, since he couldn’t run on his own with the frostbite. Bellamy let go of Clarke and limped to them under both Clarke and his mom’s scrutinizing glances. He noticed they exchanged a look that he knew perfectly well-they were communicating without words, typicall that was reserved for his and Clarke’s relationship but his mom and her had grown close and bonded ovre their mutual worry over him.

“Hey, sweet boy.” Bellamy rubbed his back tiredly and kissed his head “Had a good time?” Gus mumbles a quiet "Mhwm" and pulls the back of Bellamy’s curls as they slowly come forward and Aurora stands abruptly when she notices Bellamy’s bad limp and how Clarke pulls the chair for him and gives him a stern look, insisting he sat down.

“Was everything okay?” she asks with worry and can cealrly see something was bothering Bellamy but he shook his head as Clarke went on to explain about Tor and his daughter, as well as the other girl she tried to help. Aurora listens intently but keeps her eyes on Bellamy, who clearly isn’t happy about this but focused on Gus, who was tired after dinner and the story, and was already starting to fall asleep in his arms.

“It’s dangerous for you to go out there alone, Clarke.” Aurora comments when Clarke tells her about her plans for the upcoming days and in his mother’s eyes Bellamy can read the genuine worry, one she carried around for Gina when she was still alive.

“She won’t by alone.” he chimes in for the first time since Clarke started talking “I’ll go with there, so we’ll need you to take care of him while we’re gone.”

“You know I will, Bellamy, but that’s not the point-” Aurora keeps on, furrowing her eyebrows a little and reaching to squeeze his hand “This is dangerous. You could get caught.” she turns her head to Clarke who purses her lips but not in annoyance, more like because she was tired of having the same argument over and over again.

“She won’t be.” Bellamy speaks up before Clarke can try and convince his mother “I won’t let that happen.”

“Bellamy-”

“That’s enough, mom. We’ve discussed it and I support Clarke even if I have my concerns as well.” that warms Clarke’s heart and her eyes grow wide upon hearing those words. He meets hers and gives her a light smile in reassurance before turning back to his mom “Will you be able to help with Gus or not?”

“Of course I will.” Aurora settles down, ultimately agreeing that this was their decision and not hers even if she disagreed with it-they were a family now, a unit, despite not being married. They lived together and took care of Gus themselves-she could advice them and worry about them but she couldn’t tell them what to do.

“I should go now.” she stands up and leans over to run her fingers through Gus’ curls and then pick Bellamy’s chin up. “Please be careful at work, okay?” he nods and she kisses his forehead before giving Clarke a nod and leaving.

They talk for a while after, Clarke brings some food for them since they never had dinner and Bellamy nibbles on his bread and jerky, mostly leaving her more of the food they cut and put together in a mutual plate. They’ve figured out they liked eating like this-from one place, both of them pushing little cuts of the cheese or dry apples or bread to each other and arguing about the other eating them with insistant angry glances.

Gus grows tired in his arms but never trully falls asleep and when Clarke stands up and insists she took care of Bellamy’s leg like he promised he’d let her do, he perks up and rolls over on his dad’s lap so that he’s facing her.

“Can I watch?” he asks as Clarke pulls up Bellamy’s pant leg up and reveals the cut under his knee from the accident as well as his swollen joints. “Does it hurt, dada?” he shrugs it off and shakes his head.

“I’m good, baby boy.” he kisses his cheek and Gus squirms in his arms, always happy to have his dad’s love and attention. His own little foot was wrapped up in a good tight bandage that however needed to be changed as well.

“I have to fix your bandage too, Gus, okay?” she says and after taking off Bellamy’s boot and sock, she reaches for Gus’ one. The kid stares between his and dad’s legs and after a moment, looks up.

“Dada, we’re getting patched up at the same time.”

“Yes, we are son.” Bellamy kept running his hand over his curls softly “Doctor Clarke’s good, isn’t she?” Gus nods and gives him a light smile.

“One day I’ll be as good as her.”

“Of course you will be, sweet face.” Clarke assures when she undoes his bandage “Maybe even better than me.” Gus smiles and shakes his head in his typical shy fashion much like his father.

“We can work together, right?” Gus asks with his tired sleepy voice while Clarke applies more of her frostburn cream over his leg and little toes. Bellamy couldn’t look at that for too long so he averted his eyes-it just hurt him too much to see his son in pain “We’ll have our medbay...and I’ll learn from you...and help you out.”

“Of course, baby boy.” Clarke says though her heart clenches at Gus’ words. She doubted the chancellor would consider opening another medbay, at least not anytime soon.

“I’ll study fiwst...and then...I’ll pass my exams...and then we’ll hewp people together, wait?” Gus was growing more and more sleepy with every passing minute which was good for Clarke who was wrapping his foot up in a fresh bandage and reaching for the syrup they gave him to ease the pain and prevent inflammation. Bellamy helped tilt his head up and let her give him a few sips, urging the kid to swallow.

After, his head rested on Bellamy’s chest, his eyes closed and he was fast asleep. Clarke brushed the curls from his forehead and kissed his cheek before focusing on Bellamy’s leg.

“I think it’s best I put him to bed and we move to our cot-it’ll be easier for me to take care of you there, okay?” Bellamy agrees but insists he is the one to put Gus to bed which gives Clarke enough time to get ready for bed and use the bathroom.

By the time she’s out Bellamy’s sitting in their cot, Gus is all tucked in and he’s trying to take off his overalls though unsuccessfully so Clarke rushes to help him out with it or she’s pretty sure he would’ve tripped over himself and ended up on the floor if she hasn’t.

“Okay, easy there, mister overalls.” she scolds him mildly and looks up to see his reaction except he’s pursing his lips and trying to swallow down what looks like yet another bout of pain. “Hey, what is it?” she asks and he opens his eyes briefly just to let her know the amount of pain he’s in which rushes her to her feet and with her gentle hands she pushes him down in a lying position. “Does it hurt too bad?”

“It’s fine.” he says through gritted teeth but she can see he’s holding his hip with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s...I just need a moment that’s all.”

“I’ll go grab my supplies.” she tells him before moving up from the bed but he grips her wrist and pulls her back down next to him shaking his head stubbornly.

“No.” he says slowly before taking in a deep breath and meeting her eyes “No more ointments or bandages...no more compresses. I don’t want any of that.”

“Bellamy-”

“No offense to you, princess, but it doesn’t help.” he blurts sadly “This isn’t Gus’ frostbite, okay? It’s fucked up from inside and you know it.” Clarke sighs and bows her head down staring at his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Let me at least massage it, okay?” she insists “That’ll help relieve the pressure and numbness of your muscles.” he smirks a little at that and she knows he’s about to say something extremely dumb but she finds it in her heart that she doesn’t mind it.

“A massage, huh?” she rolls her eyes at him and scoffs.

“Or I could just go to bed and let you suffer all night long.”

“No, no-” he reaches up for her other hand too and pulls her closer to him “Please, I’ll take the massage.”

“I thought so.” she moves over the bed and starts on his bad leg, first up at his thigh then lowering it to his swollen knee and down to his ankle. It clearly hurts him a lot and though she still uses the anti-inflammatory cream she had for Gus despite his protests on the subject, she can tell she’s not doing much to ease his pain at least not at first.

“So will you ever tell me?” she asks when she’s running her hands over his swollen ankle while he’s thrown his arm over his eyes, trying to control his breathing and pain.

“Tell you what?” he groans when she applies more pressure over the joing and shivers underneath her-his whole leg was fucked up. It was a miracle he put any weight on it at all.

“Why did the guard let us go when he saw your ID? Why your mom is so worried over your job that she comes in here always hand shaking, eyes wide as if she’s expecting not to find you back home at all?” Bellamy perks up a little from under his arm but just for a moment before he speaks.

“It’s not important.”

“Don’t give me that-” Clarke stops and lets her hands drop “I know you’re hiding something. You have been for a while now, I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.” he tries staying calm but she can feel the newly-appeared tension in his voice. Still, he avoids her look.

“The food you bring in-all the fruit and vegitables, the bread and meat. The cake on Gus’ birthday too as well as the fact that you come home even more tired than before, your cough worsening-there is a reason for that.”

“Clarke-” he says it as a warning, trying to tell her not to prod. But Clake has never been one to ever let go easily.

“As hard as I know your job is, this is something else.” she crosses her arms over her chest “It’s different, I can tell.”

“You can now, can’t you?” he huffs and she reaches over to grab his arm and snap it from his face so she can finally, truly meet his eyes.

“I thought we were going to be honest with each other? Share everything?” his face grows serious at that but she keeps her eyes on him, her lips pursed and her hand on his wrist, refusing to let go, trying to let him know that he’d either talk to her or he can go to hell.

“I can’t.” he finally mumbles and she is about to roll off the bed and tell him she’ll sleep on the ground when he grips her fingers and pushes her back “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can’t.” he whispers and his face crumbles “I literally am not allowed to tell you.” Clarke raises her eyebrow in confusion but doens’t move, settling back on the bed. “It’s classified.” he adds and her head starts working all the words out, figuring what he means.

It’s a while before she finally speaks up.

“You no longer work on Level 2 do you?” he shakes his head “They’ve transferred you?” he nods “And you telling me what you’re doing now will potentially put me in danger?”

“Yes.” he finally says and moves up on his elbows which clearly also causes him pain and it’s in that moment that she realizes most of his suffering now came from his back, not his leg and she wants to slap herself on the face-of course the problem was there-it was where he was hit the worst, it was why he couldn’t walk. She had to flip him over and take care of his back, check for swelling, but for now he was simply staring at her eyes big and pleading.

“I’m trying to protect you. All of you.” he insists tightening his grip on her fingers again “Please...princess, I beg for you to understand.”

She deflects at that for a short moment, thinking over his words before finally speaking up.

“How dangerous is it?” she asks and he falls back on the pillows “If your mom’s that worried, if your cough is this persistant, if your leg despite the rest gets bad so fast...then this is putting a serious strain on you.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Mom’s exaggarating.” he tries to keep his voice steady but she shakes her head stubbornly once more.

“Be honest.” she insists “Please, Bellamy.” he keeps his eyes on her for a moment too long, then sighs and finally spekas up.

“It is dangerous.” he says and Clarke’s heart jumps in her throat “But no more than any other job in Factory.”

“That last part was a lie.” she calls him out on it and he shyly bows his head down and stares at his stomach “Why then? Couldn’t you have said no to whoever was offering you this?”

“Perhaps I could have but I didn’t want to.” he admits “I have to do this Clarke. Just like you have to go out there and help the people that are hurt.”

“For Gus?”

“Mostly, but for us all too. This gives me so much more than I could ever imagine-ration points are good, I can bring enough food on the table and put aside for him.” he explains carefully swaying on his elbows a little, almost falling back on the pillows but somehow he manages to keep himself up “You heard him tonight, Clarke. This is becoming his dream and even if it changes, even if he wants something else then this gives me the opportunity to give it to him.”

Clarke nods thinking over his words for a moment, trying to let it all sink in.

“You get it, right? Why I am doing this?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything for a while and reaches to tug her over his stomach, resting himself down on the pillows. She ends up on his chest, her head resting over his beating heart for just a moment before she forces herself to look up and meet his eyes. He lifts himself on the pillows so that he’s half-sitting and pulls her up a little.

Her fingers ghost over his cheek, then her index finger moves to his lip and traces it, after which she goes up to the freckles on his nose, his eye which she forces him to close so she can move over his eyelid. She marvels at his beauty despite the pain and torture and sadness written all over it.

God, he was so much in all the senses that it made her whole being feel as if on fire-she’s never had that before, all of those things coming together at once to make her believe she can be more than a shell of an Alpha princess. And each and every one of those amazing qualities he possessed his bravery, his selflessness, his vulnerability and even his stubborness, often came crashing right through her heart-it’s as if he stumbled on her and went through her entire being like a wind she’s never felt but only heard of and he found his perfect place inside her, a little corner of his own that grew over the months to consume her whole.

And she couldn’t fight it.

Moreover she didn’t want to.

”Clarke?” he asks confused when she doesn’t answer his question but her fingers fall to his lips and allow him to meet her eyes while her index finger taps on his upper lip and her thumb brushes his chin.

“You know I love you, right?” she says instead and his eyes widen, his breath hitches “I should’ve said it earlier and I don’t know why I didn’t but-” she swallows hard and moves up, he follows swiftly as well, sitting straighter, allowing her legs to sneak around him and her feet to lock up on his back. She was sitting in him with his arms wrapped around her back and his face so close to hers, she swore she could count on every freckle “I do, Bellamy. I love you.”

“Clarke-” he chokes on it a little, it came out desperate, maybe even surprised and she smiles at him as her hand keeps moving over his face, her hands cupping his cheeks. God, she could never be tired of holding his face in her hands. Ever.

“It’s okay if you can’t say it now or if you do not feel the same way, I just had to tell you.” she blurts out when she realizes she totally sprung this on him “The life we’re living, it’s just...so dangerous and I didn’t want you to go out there and not know or think that I don’t....that I don’t love you, Bellamy because I do.”

“Clarke, will you listen to me-” he tries but she’s on a roll.

“You knocked me on my feet, you stubborn ass and goddammit I get angry all the time with you but I just-” she rests her forhead against him “God, I love you.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists and she feels his breath fan her neck with her eyes closed for the time being.

A beat.

And then.

“I love you too, princess.” he says and it’s the softness of his voice that makes her open her eyes and stare into his brown ones, it’s the warmness that she was certain would’ve send her staggering on her feet had she been up.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.” she blurts out again, trying to reassure him and he chuckles at her cuteness, catches her face in his big calloused ones and moves up to kiss her.

“I’m not.” he assures when he pulls back, leaving her breathless “It’s been on my mind for a while now, I just hadn’t had the guts to say it out loud, too afraid you’re not ready or that it’s not the right time but-” he rubs her cheek again and kisses her nose, her forehead, her cheeks, then her lips once more “I love you too.”

“You really do?” she sounds small, vulnerable.

He takes her hand and moves it over his heart that’s trumping loud and a little erratic but steady.

“I do.” she smiles and lets herself exhale a little against him, keeping her hand on his chest and resting her cheek on his other side at the crook of his neck. He rests his back against the pillows once more probably because he got tired of keeping up and she feels him relax a little and stroke her hair inbetween the soft kisses he gave her on her forehead and lower, catching her lips now and then-it’s soft and slow for now but she can feel the bulge in his boxers that presses against her center and makes her hot and more than a little wet.

For now they’re taking their time, though, needing to just be here in this moment.

“Did you really question me?” he pats her nose with his index finger as she adjusts herself on his lap and moves up a little before going back down and eliciting a hiss from his as his dick grows harder against her and his hand grips hers over his heart.

“I’m sorry.” she whispers looking back up at him innocently. “I just...I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone tell me this.” he cocks his eyebrow at her “That they love me. Well...other than my parents of course.”

“Well here I am now too.” he catches her lips again and this time it’s her who groans in his mouth.

“Here you are.” she whispers when his hand moves to stroke her face and then sneaks down to her chest and then lower to her left boob which she carefully squeezes over her shirt making her back arch. “I love the way it sounds.” she gasps against his neck when she moves up and down again, tesing his cock that she can tell is painfully hard now.

“What is that?” he asks between kisses allowing her to move up a little and grant him better access-his lips trail to her neck and suck on her pulse point, making her jab her fingernails in his arm as a way of trying to ground herself.

She keeps grinding against him as a small way of retaliation while his other hand sneaks under her shirt and takes her boob in, softly kneading on it like a kitten as his fingers patted over her sensitive nipple and hardened it.

“You saying you love me.” she says between breaths as the wetness pools more and more in her panties, embarrassingly drenching her pjs that was actually his ones only cut shorter by herself the other day.

“Oh yeah?” he asks sliding his other hand in there and sneaking through the blond curls of her cunt until he reaches her chenter “Goddammit, Clarke, you’re so wet.” he whispers and she drips over his fingers before he’s even fully entered her.

He starts pumping her a little and she gasps trying to keep her voice quiet knowing that Gus, despite the syrup that would knock him out for the night, could still wake up. Bellamy must read her thoughts because he briefly stops, looks behind him and checks on the kid before pulling in the small curtain made of old canvas Aurora brought to separate their beds and give them some semblance of privacy.

“Then all I can do is keep saying it, shouldn’t I?” he asks when he brings his attention back to her and starts sneaking his hand back in her panties while his other never left her breast. She had noticed he liked that-teasing her boobs, licking them, sucking on them, kissing them-it brought him immeasurable joy.

Just before he actually mananges to get back in, he grabs his wrist and pulls it out and a little away from him, meeting his confused expression.

“No more of this-” she says not leaving room for discussion “I want you-” her hand goes down to his bulge and covers it, making him suck his breath in “In me, okay?”

“Clarke-” he shakes his head “We can’t.”

“Yes, we can.” she insists running her palm up and down his still hidden by the boxers cock “You’ll pull out before you-” she blushes at that and he smirks a little “I’ll find some of that tea that I know Factory women use.”

“That’s not exactly reliable.” he argues “We can’t get you pregant.” he says seriously “If you sneaking around doesn’t get you caught or punished, then this surely will and I won’t risk it.” she knows he’s right-if by any chance she got pregnant they won’t have access to any medical falicity, she had no way of getting an abortion, at least not one that won’t endanger her life. She knew the statistics even if nobody talked about them-at least twenty percent of the deaths in Factory and Farm each year came from women trying to get an abortion through various unsafe ways and it always made her furious. While Alpha had condoms, something she was sure Bellamy had probably never seen in his life even if he surely must’ve heard of it, as well as birth control pills, Factory, Farm and Arrow had nothing but old women’s tales, bad teas that didn’t work or worked only halfways and their own desperate ways of doing this just so they’re not floated.

“I won’t get pregnant.”

“You don’t know that.” he insists though he gasps again when she squeezes his dick through the thin paper boxers “Clarke, fuck I-” she cups his cheek again with her other hand and tilts his head up.

“We can do this.” she insists “I know we can and Bellamy, I-” she digs her nails in his cheek a little as she grinds on him some more, purposedly lifting herself up and then lowering her center right on his hard cock, looking for release “I really need you.”

His hands slide from her boob and her middle to her waist and he grips her hard there before he speaks, through ragged breaths.

“Are you sure?” he asks “Are you really sure you want this?” she smiles at that, always the gentleman, always asking her if she’s okay with anything, before his fingers ghost over her cunt or her nipple, before she wraps her hand around his cock even though it was her idea to jerk him off or before his lips taste her wetness as he eats her out-always, always asking god-

It was too much, she couldn’t handle the softness that was this man.

“I’m sure.” she whispers staring into his eyes “Take me.” she insists.

“You’re no one’s to take-” he insists as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear “You’re someone to love.” he kisses the corner of her lips and waits until she gives him another small nod before he flips them over.

She’s honestly not sure where he gets the strength to do that, considering how bad his back and leg were and she doesn’t miss the way he winces at the sharp movement but he ignores it for the sake of this, for the sake of them.

He grabs the hem of her shirt, that was his shirt really and pulls it off so hard she hears the seams protest at the movement and she can’t help but chuckle at it.

“Eager, aren’t we?” she jokes when he takes a moment to just stare at her bare chest and marvel at her boobs.

“Can’t blame me now, can you?” he asks when he moves down to kiss her again and tuck at her PJs and panties with one swift movement. She wraps her arms around his middle again, trying to be mindful of his back because he does tense when her heel ends up near what she can feel is one of the bigger scars from the bomb but there’s nothing she can do to ease his pain.

“Are you....are you okay?” she asks him when he pulls away for a second and is about to move to give some attention to her other boob and he gives her a confused look “Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine.” he promises and moves over to kiss her forehead in reassurance while her hands ghost over his face and pull his lips to her once more-she swore she couldn’t get enough of him right now and she only grew hotter, dripping over the sheets and rubbing against him impatiently.

“Who’s eager now?” he jokes when he rubs against her to tease her a little and she gasps.

“You have too many clothes.” she pulls at his shirt and she’s almost halfway through when he grips her wrist.

“Are you sure you want to see this?” the question confuses her and for a moment she has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about until he grabs her hand and slides it over his front and then back where his scars were “This could ruin the mood.” her heart drops at that and her eyes widen.

He was ashamed of himself, of his body, she realized and it hit her like a train. It made all the sense to her now-why before he kept his shirt on when they fooled around, he wouldn’t let her hands sneak to his back or leg, how he was too shy and embarrassed when she was blowing him, her hands and face too close to the scar on his leg and why he finished so fast, almost making her wonder if she did something wrong.

God no, did he really think that he was ugly? That he could ruin something with his scars?

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” she asks then, letting herself fall on the pillow for a moment breathing heavily as he kept hovering over her, resting on his strong arms. “Bellamy, this is nothing to be ashamed of.” she insists and drops her feet lower so she could put her hand over his scars and cover them with her palm.

“It’s not exactly sexy.” he says and she can hear his voice tremble.

“Yes it is.” she insists and he shakes his head clearly in his head for the moment so she picks his face and forces him to meet her eyes “It is. They’re part of you and if you’re making me embarrassingly wet then so are they, got it?” he chuckles at that and she tugs at his shirt “Now take this off and fuck me before I have to do it myself.”

“So bossy.” he laughs a little, quietly so that Gus doesn’t hear them and lets her pull it off. She knows the conversation’s not over, that they’ll go through that later when they’re done but for now they were both hot and crazy for each other and needed to be together, truly together, for the first time.

She blushes at the sight of his chest as much as he had when he saw her but it is when she pulls his boxers down and sees how hard he is that she unvoluntarily spreads her legs even more and makes him chuckle again a little before she nudges him with her hands on his back, urging him to come to her.

He maneuvers himself closer and she can feel the tip of his cock at her center and yet again, right before he enters her, he looks into her eyes and asks once more. She gives him a small nod and finally he pushes in and Clarke gasps out louder than she thought she would, making him scold her lightly as he ran his hand down her forehead and stroke her face.

“Shh, it’s okay.” he whispers as he plasters kisses all over her face. Clearly he wasn’t her first one but as embarrasing as it was for her to admit, she hasn’t been with a boy in a while, mostly fooling around with girls back in Alpha during her residency and then just one boy before in her high school days, who was unfortunately not good at this.

The thing was, Bellamy was big, she knew that, it was one of the reasons why she got so wet just thinking about having him in her and he stretched her out in a way that was both a little painful and amazing at the same time.

It was too much, god, it was so much she could probably come just from having him in her like this.

He waits until she adjusts to him, keeps giving her small reassurances that made her heart fill with even more love-he was so gentle, so soft but she could feel his hips tremble with anticipation and she knew this was too much for him especially for someone with a very fucked up back and a barely working leg, so she wraps herself around his waist once more and puts her hands on his shoulders.

“You can...you can move now” she tells him and he smiles moving himself up from the crook of her neck and pulling away a little before slamming into her slowly. He is still gentle, still considerate of it all but soon enough it’s too much and she just needs him to be faster so she urges him with her heels pressing into his back and he is pulling in and out faster inbetween kissing her and teasing her breasts.

His hands roam freely everywhere, her chest, her nipple, her stomach-he knew that was her soft spot so he ran his calloused fingers there for a bit making her shudder with lust and want before sneaking his hand behind her back and pulling her up, closer to him as he fucked into her fast and hard. She closed her eyes and rest her chin on his shoulder, wrapped herself entirely on him, her hands locked on his back as well as her legs.

They both knew they wouldn’t last long but he was adamant at making sure she comes first, so he carefully sneaks his hand down to her clit and runs his rough finger over it making her scream a little.

“Shhh, you’ll wake him!” Bellamy stops and moves his hand away from her when they wait for Gus, who they hear move in bed, settle down.

“Sorry, shit...sorry, it’s just...you’re too much.”

“Oh, am I?” he asks with a smirk when he pulls at the curtain to check on Gus and thankfully finds that the kid just rolled over on his stomach like he loved sleeping and had his mouth open, drooling on the pillow. “He’s all good.” Bellamy promises when his hand moves back down to her boob which he was holding a moment before and cups it gently as he moves down and rubs her nose against his “Now lets get you good too, princess.”

She nods and watches as he moves his hand lower over her stomach and down to her crotch-it’s a beautiful sight, seeing him pull out of her and then back in, she finds herself mesmerized by the moment until he whispers in her ear.

“I love you, Clarke.” he says and she meets his eyes once more smiling as she cups his cheek.

“I love you too, Bellamy.” his eyes are so soft that she’s sure she can come from the look of his alone but it is his thumb pushing over the most sensitive parts of her that gets her done and she comes so hard she drags her nails over his back to ground herself and buries her head in his chest, trying to stifle her screams.

She coats his cock in so much come that she’s surprised by herself and it’s not until he strokes her head and shushes her that she realizes she had actually bit his arm as a way of grounding herself and when she pulls away she sees the imprint of her teeth over the skin on his shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing.” he whispers “And it’s better than waking a four year old.” he kisses the corner of her lip as she slides down on the pillows “I need to ...I have to cum too.” he whispers and she realizes how strained his face seemed just then, feels bad that she ignored him up until that moment and scolds herself mentally for it.

She gives him a nod and moves up a few more time times, pushes into her just to get himself there before he pulls out, grips his cock and spills all over her stomach.

The sight makes her cunt convulse once more and she realizes she’s dripped so much on the sheets she’s made a total mess of them but she finds out she doesn’t mind even if she’s a little shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey...it’s okay.” he promises, pulling her over his chest for a brief kiss while she stares at his now soft cock and the cum he’s spilled on her. This could’ve happened inside her, she thinks, in another life, this could be the start of something new. “I’ll take care of this.” he promises and she watches him stand up and hobble to the bathroom.

She furrows her eyebrows when she realizes what a strain this is for him and his back and how selfish she had been but she’s still so spent and soft and vulnerable that when he comes back and wipes her stomach clean, she can’t help but inch closer to him. He chuckles and picks her up in his arms only halfway so he could kiss her forehead.

“I have to change the sheets if we want to sleep in a clean bed.” he rubs his nose against hers “Okay, princess?”

“Mwhm.” she mumbles but grips his shirt that she unhappily finds he put back on with her fingers.

“You’re totally spent, aren’t you?” he asks a little too smug and she groans “Did I take all your strenght away?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bellamy Blake, I was already pretty tired from saving all those lives.” he laughs quietly and kisses her again before pulling back.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, princess.” she doesn’t know how he manages to pull her up and move her to what is a metal chair by the table, she just realizes she slumps there and starts dozing off while he shuffles behind her with the sheets and pillows.

When he picks her up again she doesn’t miss the painful groan that leaves his lips or how bad he’s limping.

“Put me down!” she tries as she pats his chest weakly “I can walk.” he chuckles at that as he puts her down and cradles her face.

“Not to sound so smug but-” he tucks the blankets over her legs “I kind of doubt that, princess.” she grunts at that but lets him tuck her in and when he slides besides her she immideatelly snuggles into his chest. He chuckles a little again but pushes her to him and allows her to rest her head over his beating heart.

He’s tired and in pain, that much she can tell considering how tense his body is underneath her so she makes herself a promise that tomorrow, the first thing she’ll do is take care of his back and leg, before he has to go to work or feed Gus or even go out there to grab them rations.

She feels his hand rub up and down her back and every now and then he’d kiss the top of her head or tuck a strand of hair away. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her and she understood this because her hands never really left his body either.

Clarke’s pretty sure that if they weren’t as tired, she could sneak her hand down his now fresh pair of boxers and get them going once more. It was enough to just be lying on his rigid chest to get her center pooling and he must feel this, he must know because he leans down to kiss her and it’s hot, wet, messy and sleepy.

“Princess-” he warns a little when they move sideways, looking in each other’s eyes and her hand teases the hair on his stomach before desperately reaching for the hem of his boxers. He grabs her wrist and shakes his head “We can take it easy, you know? The one thing we have is time.” she groans unhappy, protesting quietly at that and he smiles cupping her cheek again.

“I want you in me.” she begs and he rubs his nose against her.

“I was just in you a moment ago, Clarke.”

“Again.” she whines and she knows that she does sound like Gus, a kid who desperately asks for more candy or to play just a little longer or not to go to bed so early and Bellamy can’t say he minds that side of her.

He’s never been that wanted before. Maybe with Gina when they were still in their honeymoon phrase but after...after they just had so many things going on that sex was a one time occurance every other month-they were both so tired and broken, busy to make sure she’s okay or that Gus is fine and that they had enough to eat. Problems overwhelmed them for the time being. He often thought if later the more the kid grow, the more time they’d have for themselves but he never got to know, not really. He lost her too soon.

He sighs, buries his nose in her hair and breaths her in-did he really deserve all this? Did he deserve to be loved?

He scolded himself mentally and let her hand go, allowing her to reach down and tug at his boxers, grab his already half hard dick. He didn’t need much-just to have her nipples rub against his chest or her lips kissing his neck or her fingers...god her fingers-

He was like a horny teenager. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’s been that hot even when he was seventeen. Back then he had too many things to worry about as well.

He lets her pump him a few times and when he’s hard enough, he easily spreads her legs and pushes in her. He manages a few slow thursts but that’s pretty much it-they were once again together.

He tucks her in the crook of his neck and feels her give him a small gentle kiss there while her hands roamed up and down his still bruised sides.

“You haven’t gained any weight.” she comments and he smiles-Clarke, always the nurturor, always the carer “And you hurt.”

“It’s bearable.” he whispers “With you and Gus here, I can take on anything.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.” she mumbles and he knows she’s on the verge of sleep “I wish you were happy.”

“I am.” he insists and she looks up at him with tired eyes making him so soft for her that he can’t help himself and just pushes her closer to his chest “I have everything I could ever ask for.” he promises and kisses her forehead one last time “Now sleep, princess.” she tucks her head under his chin and he smiles at how affectionate she was in this moment. She was so small in his arms yet she fit so perfectly.

If someone had told him that he’ll fall in love again after Gina, he’d have never believed them-frankly, he had no idea how he even survived and if he had to be completely honest, he wasn’t sure what happiness truly felt like but he knew he had experienced it at least a few times-first when he married Gina, then when he held Gus in his arms for the first time and now...

Now he was pretty sure was the third time if only because his heart was bursting with joy, he felt light and he just couldn’t, even when he knew he was already falling asleep, stop smiling.

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #bellarkeedit #the100edit #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #ark!au #singledad!bellamy #doctor!clarke #and little gus #sorry it took so long to update #hope you'll enjoy #my writing

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heroes-of-olympus-next-gen · 1 year ago

Note

Hi !!!!!

Can u write a promt where percy just worries and takes care of annabeth after their reunion

Like percy is changed with all the new added truma but still the same .

Thank you for your ask! Keep them coming <3

I will rescue you

Percy couldn’t fall asleep in his cabin. Not when she was only a few feet away from him. After everything that they had been through, he hated being away from her. She was like oxygen; without her he would die. Her lifeline was connected to his and he put her above of all his needs. She was always going to be his top priority. And he felt it inside his bones that she needed his help. She had put walls around her and tried to hide her feelings from him. But he wasn’t going to let her stay away from him, not when he knew that she needed him the most.

She was right where he expected her to be. In the library of Argo, where nobody else would step inside except for her. Percy entered the room and locked the door behind her. “Percy? What are you doing here?” She asked him as he sat next to her.

He kissed her softly to try and help her get loose. He didn’t like how tense and guarded she had been since he had returned. Deep down he was wondering whether it was his fault she was like that. Maybe she didn’t want to be with him anymore and she didn’t want to tell him. “How long have you been in here?”

“Just a few hours. I ate my breakfast and started researching for our mission.” She explained as he put his hand around her waist.

“It’s nearly midnight, Wise Girl. You’ve been holed in here all day long.”

“It can’t be midnight.” She shook her head. “No way.”

“It is. So, I’m officially getting you out of here.” Percy said and got up.

“No, I’m still not done with my project.” Annabeth refused and continued reading the book she was holding.

“You need to eat and sleep well. The project can wait a few hours. I promise.” He held his hand for her to grab, so that they could leave. Annabeth stayed still like she was trying to ignore him. Percy had been self-destructing his entire life and he was not going to let his girl do the same with her. She had gone through too much torture already for her to keep hurting herself to not let others see the most vulnerable parts of herself. “Let me take care of you. Please.”

“I’m fine, Percy. Don’t worry about me.” She reassured him with a broken expression.

“You always worry too much. I want to help you out. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“What we need to worry about at the moment is making out alive.” Annabeth said and her voice cracked at the end.

“We’re going to make it. I’ve already promised that I am not letting you go anywhere. You don’t win anything by overthinking the whole situation. I know it’s easier to say than do but try to turn off that incredible brain of yours every once and a while.”

Annabeth stayed quiet, looking at his direction with her beautiful grey eyes staring deep in his soul. He wished he could take away all of her pain with the click of a button. “I want you to tell me what’s really going on. You’ve been worried and distant, and I need you to be healthy and happy to not go insane. I love you so much it hurts. You’re the only one who keeps me going, so do me a favour and let me take care of you.” Percy was sure that she wouldn’t say anything and just shut him off, but her reaction surprised him even more. She started sobbing. She put her hands on her face and started crying. He had never seen her like that.

“I’m not fine, I know I said I was but I’m not.” She confessed trying to catch her breath. “I hate it. All of it. I thought I lost you and now you’re back and nothing is the way it was, and I don’t want to be alone again.”

Percy pulled her closer to him and she cried on his shoulder while he caressed her skin. “You are never going to be alone. Not as long as I’m alive. You’re allowed to let down your guards and be vulnerable. Let me carry some of all the weight you’re carrying.”

“I can do it all. That was what I was made for. To be a soldier.” She sobbed as she looked in Percy’s eyes. He put his hands on her face with their faces only a few inches apart.

“That wasn’t the reason you were born. You’re so much more than your mother’s daughter. Screw her. You’re your own person and as soon as we are done here, we’re running away from this world. You have so much to live for and I would hate myself if I couldn’t make you understand what a beautiful person you are.”

“You’re sure that we’re going to make it?”

“100%. Now please let me take care of you. That’s literally my job.” Percy said and helped Annabeth get up with him.

“I thought your job was to save the world.” Annabeth wiped her tears away.

“No, my job is to take care of my amazing girlfriend that never takes a break.”

#hoo #pjo #percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth

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just-another-fic-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Valentine’s Day: Aekku/Oegwipari

Oegwipari wasn’t sure what point it was he’d fallen asleep.

He remembered hearing that there had been a rescue operation. He remembered hearing his long-presumed-dead partner had been found. He remembered that he and Mulmangcho had gone to the infirmary waiting for him to wake up. He remembered Mulmangcho had left at some point. The last thing Oegwipari remembered was that he had climbed into the hospital bed, and curled up on Aekku’s chest. He’d started listening to his partner’s heart, beating in his chest. Taking in his scent. He must have fallen asleep to that. It was easy to fall asleep to that. It always had been…

What he woke up to was a hand on his back.

“P-pari?” Aekku’s nickname for him sounded raspy. A little hollow. It didn’t matter. It was his voice. And he would take it in any form it came in.

“Aekku!” Oegwipari leaned forward, kissing his partner on the mouth. “You’re alive!”

Aekku said nothing for a moment. Using his one good eye to look at him. Then, shakily, he spoke up once more. “Y-you’re here. Really here? I’m not dreaming?”

“No,” Oegwipari shook his head. “You’re not dreaming. I’m here.”

Aekku looked around. “And…where is here, exactly?”

“Wolves’ Den.” Catching Aekku’s confusion, he simply shrugged. “They joined the fight. I don’t know why.”

“Hm. Bout time they were useful for something.” Aekku shifted up, gown slipping slightly, revealing the bandages. “But…you’re here. Right?”

“Yeah.”

Aekku reached out, cupping Oegwipari’s cheek with his enormous hand. “I thought you were dead,” he murmured. “I-I’d overheard the guards say something about Geomun, and I knew you were stationed at his base…b-but you’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” Oegwipari assured him, holding the hand close. “I’m okay. And you’re…” he trailed off.

“…alive. Yeah. Don’t know that I’d say I’m alright.” Aekku sighed, looking down. “Bastards did a number on me…”

“I…I heard the doctors talking about that.” Oegwipari sighed. “…how are you feeling?”

“Like shit. Happy to see you again, but still like shit.” A sigh. “I still can’t…I kinda expect I’m going to wake up back there. Or that this is one last hurrah before I’m gone for good. This just feels too good to be true.”

“I know what you mean.” Oegwipari fell back on Aekku’s chest. “You’re with me. You’re still with me…”

Quiet for a moment more. Each of them holding onto each other.

“Aekku?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

Aekku startled. “M-married?!”

“Why not? We’re in Wolves’ Den. It’s legal.”

“That’s…I m-mean, yeah. Yeah it is. But…Pari, do you realize what you’re asking?”

Oegwipari thought a moment. “I’m asking if I want to live the rest of my life with you. I’m asking if I want to hold your hand and call you my husband. I’m asking if I want to be yours, forever. And I do.”

“Pari…” Aekku struggled for a minute. “Pari, I want that, too. You have no idea how much I do. But…you don’t know what they did. You don’t know how it changed me.”

“I can learn.”

Aekku swallowed. “A-and what if…it broke me? W-what if they did something that made it so I’ll never be the same as I once was?” He started shaking. “What if I’m not the weasel you fell in love with?”

Oegwipari thought for a moment. Then, “Do you still like boxing?”

“W-what?” Aekku stared at Oegwipari, letting out a confused laugh. “Of course I do.”

“Your laugh is still the same,” he noted. “And…do you still love me?”

Aekku’s eye softened. “Of course I do.”

“Then you’re the one I fell for. Hurt, scared. Maybe changed. But not broken. Never broken. Not to me.”

“Pari…” Aekku trailed off. Then, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!” Aekku held Oegwipari’s face. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, Ku!” Oegwipari kissed him. Deeply. The sort that had Aekku holding back. He was holding back. And now he would be forever.

When he did pull away, his…fiancé smiled at him. “So how should we do it?”

“We’ll wait until you’re out of the infirmary,” Oegwipari said. “But it doesn’t have to be a big thing. We’ll just have my brother there, and someone to officiate. We’ll figure out the details later.”

“Sounds good to me.” Aekku gave a grin. “I do like small things.”

Oegwipari laughed. And he’s continue laughing for a long, long time.

#squirrel and hedgehog #ficlet #aekku #oegwipari #aekku/oegwipari

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sunflowersunite · 4 months ago

Note

AHHH

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THISSS THE LOOT WAS SO PRECIOUS

Of course Levihan would take an active role to rebuild the world after the Rumbling. Okay Levi is so sweet, his romanticism has started to come to the surface but just HOW could anyone recover from the "dedicate your heart" thing?? It's not something you overlook. It must have been like "just in case you go, just in case it's the last time I see you... my heart is always yours"

but it wasn't the last time and Hange's fine.

the official proposal being so full of domesticity and comfort?? The words offering them a much needed warmth, and holding each other through the night?? I love this sooo much. The life of a soldier came with countless sacrifices but they're ready to move past them now that they've done their duty.

Ok ok but

"we’re both broken, you’re there for me and I’m here for you, so we’re each other’s crutches."

Self conscious Hange 😢😢 she's had so much to live up to so now she feels weak, she wouldn't be a good commander if she's weak but Levi doesn't care about that. She was always a good commander.

When he brought Hange's hand to his knee she'd for sure think "wtf why did he ever think he wouldn't be enough because of-- ohhhh I see"

I'm telling you your headcanons are the best, this world, this life, I WISH I could think of something so domestic and sweet and so full of feels.

LIKE I SAID, Levi wants to keep her close while he sleeps. For reasons related to angst (he doesn't want to lose her) or other (he just wants a human pillow ☺️)

Mikasa.

Is visiting her parents and now stays with them. 😭 This is such a merciful fate compared to the canon where everyone is scattered and Eren is gone. I'm telling you, post canon Eremika hurts so bad. Eren is everywhere around her and worst of all, his memory doesn't hurt, all she sees is the cheerful but burdened boy who loved her back. What hurts is that there's a veil dividing them and it will keep them apart for a long time. She can't tell him she loves him.

But now Mikasa has the comfort of Levi and Hange by her side when Shiganshina is too full of ghosts.

With her head on her mother's lap thank you very much.

The 104th making thEM KISS

Damn brats. High five.

Armin barges in the conference room one day all cocky "guess who's together"

"NOOO WHATT"

money gets transferred that day and they all sail back to Paradis to see it with their own two eyes.

Ok ok but Connie gets to choose so he says "kiss Hange". Levi gets all flustered and kisses her cheek. Everyone is disappointed including Hange. On the next round Armin says "kiss each other on the mouth" and Levi glares daggers at him.

Something about Hange writing down her experiences hits hard, especially because that book is what helps shape the view everyone has on the Paradis devils and change things. It's her legacy.

Since Armin's story is "The Attack Titan" would Hange's book be "the Wings of Freedom"?

I love how they seriously consider having a child even though it's impossible. A Levihan child would be so precious, I feel like a cheerful little brat would love aunt Mikasa (the Hange species has a fondness for the Ackermans)

but maybe in another life

THIS WAS THE BESTTT you don't know how much I needed thisss! Thank you so so much swordslinger!!!

🔫 this is a robbery, hand over your post war Levihan headcanons (please 😊)

The world needs to know

Post war levihan gives me life ok, they're both alive and happy and together and no one spoils that for me. It's canon. Isayama who?

Congratulations, the robbery was a success and here's the loot

So after the Rumbling and the Battle of Heaven and the Earth, these two retire. First they recover in the hospital, Hange’s burn injuries and Levi’s leg and they take a break to just breathe and relax.

Once they’re on their feet (and wheelchair) Hange drags Levi to travel as many places as they can go.

Queen Historia funds their visits (Hange somehow convinced her to allocate a budget for them cuz she wanted to see everything. And as they were heroes of the war and her parents former superiors, she agreed) and they travel a lot.

But it’s not just going places and having fun, They plan on helping out in the rebuilding of the areas affected by the Rumbling too. They go around aiding in reconstruction and Hange helps the mechanics and engineers and learns things from them too.

Levi distributes clothes, food, and lollipops to kids who love him. Hange later teases him for looking too long at the lollipop, “You remembered that clown right?”

“No, I was thinking about how you chased after cars in Marley with carrots in your hand.” And she gets all embarrassed, crying out how she was just so excited that she couldn’t stop.

And he says fondly, “There’s no need to get defensive four-eyes, I was happy to see you so excited after months back then.” And she blushes because wtf?! When was Levi so romantic? But then again, he was. When she was about to sacrifice herself and he’d given her his heart.

They don’t talk about this, nor her proposal in the forest. They don’t need to, not yet. They’ve both reached a stage of familiarity and comfort with each other throughout the years which doesn’t need any words. They both just know and they’re fine with it (levihan telepathy at its peak)

They stay with the brats whenever they stop by in Paradis—or at the palace and help out with Historia’s orphanage. Eventually they decide to buy a house since they won’t be traveling forever. It’s a nice little cabin in the woods, just like Hange had dreamt of.

It turns into a kind of summer house, or a place to stay in whenever they stop at Paradis and rest. They have it renovated, repainted and furnished and it becomes their own cozy little place.

Levihan eventually settle down in their cabin for good once traveling constantly becomes too hectic. They’re used to sharing a bed by now, they did it all the time in their travels, and it comes with the much needed comfort of having someone familiar close by after waking up from nightmares.

But that night feels different, they’ve finally settled down and this cabin is no longer a temporary lodging for their stays in Paradis, it’s on its way to become their house, their home. A safe place to relax and live in. Just like what Hange yearned for in the forest when she proposed they live here together

So Levi turns to her and sees her awake as well, staring at him. They both know that now words are needed to solidify this thing between them. But neither of them know how to proceed

Hange goes first, cuz Levi may be the strongest, he’s still not the bravest when it comes to certain things. So Hange talks, shapes out their feelings into words and sentences and each sits warmly upon them both like an extra blanket in the chilly night. And when she’s done, Levi just pulls her close and there’s too many words, feelings stuck in his throat, his mind but all he can say is “Yes. Me too.” And he just kisses her, and they hold each other all through the night.

They look after each other’s injuries, he takes care of her burns, she helps him with exercises for his leg. Both of them are a bit conscious about their injuries. There are times when Hange looks at her scarred, burnt body and she feels broken, weak and just falls into despair. She asks Levi how he can stand looking at her, how can he put up with her, does he want to? She’s not enough.

But he takes her face in his hands and tells her she’s more than enough. And he places her hand on his own knee, the injured one and looks into her eye. It’s one of those levihan telepathy moments where he tells her with his eyes we’re both broken, you’re there for me and I’m here for you, so we’re each other’s crutches.

Once again, they’re like two halves of a whole. Even after the war, with their flawed bodies and capabilities, they fit in together perfectly. She’s there as his support when he needs to walk and he’s there as the soothing balm to her burning scars. They don’t need anyone else.

Things have changed, and now it’s Hange who helps Levi take a bath. She’s careful with him and Levi would tell her to wash his hair again and again, he likes how her fingers feel in his head. But the roles haven’t completely switched, he’d still drag her for a bath as well since she always neglects it.

Levi is the cuddler.

While they both naturally wake up at the crack of dawn due to years of army training drilled into them, there are days they hold back and relax. But on those days Hange's usually the one who wants to jump out of bed first, there's just so much to do, how can she waste her day in bed? But it's levi who pulls her back and buries his face in her shoulder and cages her in his warm sleepy embrace and says, "Stay still four-eyes, those seedlings aren't going anywhere." And he just. Cuddles.

Hange goes wild in the garden, she plants all that she can get her hands on and Levi goes around ordering her to arrange it all neatly. And his help is needed, otherwise their garden would’ve been a terrible mess. He makes sure there are neat sectors to all the things, vegetables at one side and fruits at the other.

“I’m telling you shorty, tomatoes are fruits! We’re not planting them on the veg side.”

Levi’s got a side of the garden all for himself where he grows tea and he cherishes his little tea garden. Whenever Hange comes across any exotic or new species of tea, she makes sure to get plenty of seeds for Levi to plant.

She goes about experimenting with plants and seeds, she does grafting and makes hybrid seeds and plants them to observe the results. They have plenty of land around the cabin and she’s got all the time in the world now. She also tries to make hybrid species of flowers.

She works together with Levi and does the same things with tea. They end up opening a tea shop and Levi tells her it was once his dream as a kid. It gets a lot of customers, and it keeps Levi and Hange busy. Hange continues to experiment with tea and they get the most unique blends that way. Eventually they add a few other things to the menu but their tea remains the most famous one in Paradis.

The 104th often visit their home or the shop. Armin’s often at their place, asking Hange for commander advice and they talk politics for long hours.

Mikasa prefers the tea shop more, it’s a cozy, comfortable place, not too quiet, and not too loud. It suits her mood and the aroma of tea calms her down. Levi would often find her asleep in one of the cushy armchairs and just throw a blanket over her if it’s cold. She doesn’t like to go back home since it’s mostly empty and quiet (and she misses Eren, we don’t blame her) so Levihan often invite her over to their place. By now they’ve practically made the second guest room as Mikasa’s bedroom. She often spends the nights there and when she can’t sleep she comes out and sits on the porch.

Levihan also have sleepless nights, so when their daughter she’s staying over they all gather outside or in the living room and have hot tea and talk to forget their worries. It’s a good way to keep unwanted memories away for all of them. The morning finds them all asleep on the carpet, Levi and Hange leaning into each other, Mikasa with often her head on Hange’s lap.

Jean and Connie visit a lot as well, and whenever the 104th all come together, Hange makes sure they all stay the night no matter how much Levi grumbles about them being too noisy. She brushes off his complaints, he was always an old man hiding away from fun and excitement.

They have drinking games on the porch and Hange and Levi get a lot of dares to kiss each other. They kids were always betting on them to get together, and now that they officially are, they wanna see all the proof they can get. Plus it’s good to see their tough captain all red faced and embarrassed.

Whenever their Marley friends visit, Levi and Hange go meet them. Gabi and Falco get along surprisingly well with Levi, they steal him away from Hange for the day and zoom around the city with his wheelchair. He pretends to complain. Pretends.

Pieck, Onyankopon and Hange get along the best together. They always fill her in about the situation of the world, the aftermath of the war. It starts out with just people collecting the pieces after the rumbling and focusing on rebuilding everything. But over the years as the states get stronger Hange and Levi get news about more conflicts, more schemes, no war in sight but the usual political disagreements and disunity. It saddens her how quickly humans revert back to their divided state, fighting once more over land or money or people.

Pieck tells them they don’t have anything to worry about. They’ve retired, all they gotta do is enjoy the rest of their lives.

Hange wants to write about their dead comrades, document everything about their lives within the walls and outside them, their training and the survey corps. She wants their memories to remain and Levi agrees on that. So they begin, it turns into a book with a few volumes. Hange writes down all she and Levi can remember and fills the pages with their friends’ laughter, tears and blood. The war and Paradis’ side of the story behind the genocide.

It gets published and it’s a hit. People around the world would eventually read it (but by that time Levi and Hange would probably be dead) and it’s one of the crucial things that changes the views of the masses about the ‘Island Devils”

They talk about having children, Hange asks Levi if he wants any. The idea is nice, having a little brat of their own. But it turns out they’re too tired to manage a baby and the crying and wailing that comes with it and the attention it would demand. Besides they already do have children, the brats from the 104th.

Perhaps if they were younger and had lived different lives, they would’ve been more serious about it. But not here. Now they’ve survived through hell and want to be selfish with the rest of their lives. And they are.

💚💜

#“She’s there as his support when he needs to walk and he’s there as the soothing balm to her burning scars.”#I'M MAILING THAT TO ISAYAMA #SAYING “LOOK WHAT YOU COULD'VE DONE”#because I don't know where he lives I'll just write down “we're each other's crutches” in my quote book #levihan #levihan headcanons #post war fluff #levi ackerman #hange zoe #quillsandblades 🗡️#levi x hange #they're together #their dream of living in the forest #😢#this is the ending they deserved #they'd plant sunflowers in their garden #because they remind Levi of Hange #LEVI CUDDLING WITH HER THE OH SO STOIC CAPTAIN #HANGE BATHING HIM #THE TEA SHOP #imagine the coolest military people serving you tea #“is that...” “yeah that's the commander what will you order” “ARE YOU...”#I love this I love this I love this

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strawboorybunny · 3 years ago

Text

Memories

Pairing: Jefferson x reader

Words: 1300+

Author’s note: I have been wanting to write for Jefferson for so long. He is another one of my favorite psychopaths. Funny enough I got the inspiration to write for him while listening to Fairytale on my way to work. I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff and angst

You panted as you leaned back against a tree. You looked over to see Jefferson looking back at the way you just came from. “How many more enemies are you going to make?”

He chuckled and looked at you. “You agreed to come, y/n. There is no backing out now.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad, you know that?”

He walked over to you. “And yet, you’re still with me.” You smiled slightly before looking away. He placed a small kiss on your head before walking away. “Come on. We have an appointment.”

You blushed as you followed. “An appointment?”

He hummed as he took the sphere out from his bag. You looked at it before trying to grab it. He pulled it out of your reach. “No, I don’t know what this thing can do and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You pouted before sighing. “Fine.”

You were broken out of your thoughts when you heard the front door close. You smiled when you heard Paige run to you. She wrapped her arms around you, hugging you from behind. “Hi mama.”

You turned and gave her a smile. “Hello, my dear.” You kissed her on top of her head before looking up at your husband. He smiled at the two of you before making his way into his office. Your smile faded slightly when he left. Things were never like this. You wanted this life just with a man who you loved. You wanted him. But he doesn’t remember you.

“Mama?” Paige said after a few moments of silence. You looked down to see a worried look on her face. You bent down and grabbed her hands.

“I’m fine, my love. You go and get ready for dinner.” She nodded before running off. You didn’t know why you were the one to be playing her mother. A part of you thought it was some sick joke the queen was playing on you. As much as you would have loved to be her real mother, that spot belonged to someone else.

You watched as Jefferson paced back and forth. “Jefferson, calm down. Did something happen?”

He looked at you with a smile. “Yes. Something wonderful. Priscilla and I are having a baby.”

You felt your heart crumble. Everything you had wanted with the man in front of you had been officially destroyed. You held the tears at bay and gave him a smile. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you!” He sat down in front of you and grabbed your hands.

“Y/n, Priscilla and I have been talking and we would like you to care for the baby when we’re away.” You frowned slightly.

“What do you mean?”

He squeezed your hands slightly. “I have decided that you’re not going to be doing anymore jobs with me anymore. I don’t want you getting hurt again and if you did, I would never forgive myself.”

You sighed before nodding. “I understand.” You said quietly as Jefferson looked to your side. His hand grazed the spot where you had been wounded. You grabbed his hand and gave him a soft smile. “I’m fine.” You said quietly. You placed a finger under his chin before making him look at you. “Jefferson,” He looked into your eyes before kissing your forehead.

“Thank you, y/n.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

You stood outside of the school waiting for Paige to get out. You looked around to see some of the other mothers standing and talking to each other. You rolled your eyes slightly knowing they were talking about you. You looked towards the group again to see a man standing across the road. Your heart skipped a beat when you took in his features. He looked a lot like him, Jefferson.

“Mama!” You quickly looked towards the school to see Paige running towards you. You smiled before giving her a hug.

“Hello, love. Did you have a good day?” She nodded as the two of you made your way to your vehicle. You looked over across the road to see the man gone. You frowned before looking around, finding that he was nowhere to be seen.

“Mama, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just thought I saw an old friend.” You looked around once more only to lock eyes with Regina. She gave you a smirk and a wave before making her way to her vehicle. Anger ran through your body. It was her fault you were stuck in this place, a place with no magic. It was her fault that you lost Jefferson. It was all her fault.

You took a deep breath before driving the two of you to her mansion. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. Paige looked around before looking at you. “Mama, what are we doing here?”

“Stay here, love. I have to have a quick chat with the mayor.” You got out of the car and made your way up to the house. “Regina.” You said as Regina and Henry stepped out of her vehicle.

“Ah, y/n. It’s nice to see you again. How can I help you?”

“Is he here?”

“Is who here? I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She said as she gave you a slight glare. You glanced at Henry and then motioned to Paige in the car. He got the hint and made his way to your vehicle. You crossed your arms. Regina sighed. “Yes, he’s here.”

“And you decided to keep his daughter away from him?”

Regina sighed again. “Well, I gave you what you want. To be her mother.”

Your heart fell. “Not like this. I was not meant to be her mother. Priscilla was.”

“And look what happened. Because of their reckless mistakes she died and left their daughter motherless. I just filled the gap. She already thought of you as her mother since you helped raise her.”

You became silent as you remembered watching the two play out in the woods as you made supper. Tears came to your eyes. “Does he remember?” You asked quietly.

“Yes, he does. He thinks he’s the only one. Here, this is his address.” She approached you and gave you a piece of paper. You looked down at the address on it before looking at her. “He knows you and Paige live together. Let’s just say he keeps a close eye on the two of you.”

You looked up at the mansion before looking at the piece of paper. This was the address Regina gave you. You took a breath before making your way up to the front door. You hesitated before knocking on the door. Your breath hitched when he opened the door. You took in his look. He looked just as handsome as always. Your cheeks became slightly pink as you reached out to touch his cheek. “Jefferson,” You whispered as he melted into your touch.

He smiled slightly as he pulled you into him. “Hello, y/n.” Tears came to your eyes as you melted into his touch. “I missed you.”

Your arms tightened around him. “Why?”

He frowned before bringing you inside. He broke the hug and wiped your tears. “Why what?”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

His heart broke when he heard you ask that. He never forgave himself for leaving you and Grace behind. “I’m so sorry, for everything.” He placed a kiss on your head as more tears fell.

“Regina told me that you still remembered. Why didn’t you come find us?”

He sighed. “I didn’t want to face the fact that the two of you didn’t remember me. Nor look at you when I left. Even when I promised I’d be back for tea.” You frowned as he looked away. You placed your hands on his cheeks before placing your forehead against his.

“I forgive you, Jefferson. I always will because I love you. Even if I try not to, you will always have my heart.” He smiled before looking into your eyes.

“I love you too, my love.” He said before softly kissing your lips. You immediately melted into the kiss. He broke the kiss and placed his forehead against yours again once more. “Let’s go reunite our family, my love.”

Taglist: @bxcketbarnes @jessalyn-jpeg @noisynightmarefest @shyartistmaddie

#jefferson #jefferson mad hatter #jefferson once upon a time #jefferson ouat #jefferson imagine #jefferson imagines #jefferson x reader #jefferson x you #jefferson x y/n #jefferson oneshot #jefferson one shot #jefferson fanfiction #jefferson fanfic #jefferson fic #jefferson preference #jefferson preferences #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagines

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years ago

Text

i don’t wanna do this (i don’t wanna lose this)

eighteen plus blog minors dni

summary -> it’s all fake, every piece of it scripted and perfected for the camera, even the upcoming break-up you pretend doesn’t break your heart.

words -> 2.5k

warnings -> fake relationship, use of name (bucky calls the reader by her character’s name, lucia, once) nickname uses (baby, sweetheart) co-workers/friends to lovers, no smut, not beta’d

notes -> this is for the lovely maera’s ( @ambrosiase ) hotel indigo writing challenge i absolutely love this idea mae and am so appreciative that you created this challenge, it really pushed me out of my comfort zone and i got to explore an entirely new au.

room & service -> business meets pleasure with celebrity bucky barnes -> bucky and reader are co-stars in a fake relationship in a hotel for their final comic-con together.

— ➶ —

Bucky has been doing interviews with Sam all day today.

You’ve been working together for six seasons and have both been to too many comic-cons to count. Every single one of them you and Bucky had been paired up to do interviews and photo-ops together.

A scripted piece of a scripted relationship. Agreed upon when your characters romance began to pick up popularity and designed to look perfect until the end.

Tomorrow an article with be released ‘leaking’ the details of your perfect break-up too. A source close to the both of you will comment that wrapping of the show and being forced to go long distance just wasn’t working for you two. The writer will supply photos of today, the two of you avoiding sitting near one another and not speaking. They’ll write that their source confirmed this convention is actually the first time you’ve seen each other in months.

Even more articles have already been planted periodically questioning whether the two of you were still together, generating buzz around the show and what happens between your characters. It’s a brilliant job, honestly.

Except, you and Bucky had been in a fake relationship for so long, it had begun to feel real. This distance between you two felt purposeful in a way that hurt you more than it ever should have.

Your assistant is supposed to go through your instagram soon and begin archiving posts and pieces of your fake life with Bucky. He’s been glaringly absent from your social media recently and it makes your heart ache at the idea of him being nonexistent.

Your fans have noticed too. You read comment after comment all asking the same thing; What happened to you and Bucky?

“Oh, Lucia! My dear, Lucia.” You bite down a grin at the sound of Bucky’s voice through your door. His words were filtered by the wall between you and a little slurred from the drinks he had no doubt consumed at the hotel bar. “Open the door, please.”

You lock your phone and lay it on the bed beside you. “I’m busy, Bucky! Go bother Sam.” You call back despite already walking towards the door.

“Bother Sam? On our last night together?” You can see Bucky smile teasingly though the peephole. Despite his joking tone the words hurt. “Four years together and this is how things end? Through a hotel room door?”

His fist comes up to bang against the door and a hand comes up to his heart. He’s putting on a show for you, fully away of your eye watching carefully through the peephole. “How much have you had to drink, Bucky Barnes?” You ask as the door remains closed.

Bucky holds his fingers up in a pinch too small to be true. “Not much.” When his hand falls back to his side he smiles up at the peephole. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

You melt, becoming putty in his hand as you quickly move to unlatch the door. “I’ve missed you too.” You admit to him, face to face, as you lean against the door jam.

A smirk replaces Bucky’s sweet smile as his hands reach out to grip your hips. “This break-up is tough on me, baby.” He pushes you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “One more night. One last time. You and me.”

“Shut up!” You force his hands off of you and turn towards the mini bar in your room. “You’re such a dweeb. I’m glad we’re breaking up.” You pull out the miniature bottle of wine and twist the top off.

Bucky’s hand slams across his chest as he falls against the wall in dramatic fashion. “You’re… Glad? My frail heart can’t take it,” he falls to his knees, “Please. Tell my mother, I loved her.”

You watch, unamused, as Bucky falls to the floor in front of you. “You’re obnoxious.” A beaming smile breaks out onto Bucky’s face that makes you grin.

“I was serious, about missing you.” Bucky moves to sit up with his back against the edge of your bed. You move to sit beside him on the floor. “These junkets and photos just aren’t the same without you by my side, cracking jokes in my ear.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too. I love Wanda, but it’s just not the same.” You admit quietly.

There’s so much that you want to say to him. What if this wasn’t fake? What if we didn’t go through with the break-up plan? “Did they send you our social media plan?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You swallow thickly, “I have my assistant going through my account for me soon. We’re supposed to start untagging and deleting photos of each other this week.”

Bucky snorts. “How fucking sweet. Four years together and they have us untag each other to confirm a break up.” His fingers tap against his thigh as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor together.

“Has it really been four years?” You ask quietly. It’s more of a question to yourself, but Bucky answers it with a nod anyways.

“My longest relationship ever and it was fake.” Bucky’s awkward laugh makes the air tense as he stares down at his hands. “I’ve wasted so much of my life. So many chances gone.”

You know the words aren’t said with ill intent, but that doesn’t stop the crack from forming in your heart. You can’t fathom the idea of all your time together, fake or not, being a waste.

Your eyes cut away from him in embarrassment. “Was it really all a waste?” You ask quietly. The words are unintentional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re out in the air.

“What?” You can feel his eyes settle on you in an attempt to read your face or body language, but a career in acting comes in handy. Your back is ramrod straight and your face turned away perfectly to hide the emotions in your eyes. “It was fake when we could have had something real with people we actually cared about.”

It’s a knife to your broken heart. “People we actually care about?”

“You know, like, other girls and guys who we wanted to pursue but couldn’t because of the contract.” Bucky reaches out to wrap a hand around yours, but you pull away. “I don’t understand what’s wrong here.”

You shake your head, the regret of your words settling over you. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s been a long day.” You use the edge of the bed to help you stand while Bucky remains on the floor, watching you in confusion. “I’m tired, you should go.”

“Woah. What’s this one-eighty?” Bucky stands too and follows you as you move around to gather your toothbrush and skincare. “Two seconds ago we were joking about a fake break-up and now you’re all quiet and weird? You expect me to just leave?”

“Please.” You plead. The last thing you want to do is dump all your feelings out to Bucky, on the last day you two were officially contracted to each other, and make him feel guilty for feeling free. “I just need to be alone, Buck.”

You move to push past him towards your bathroom, but Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this closing yourself off thing.”

“I’m not.” You say stubbornly. “I’m tired.” You try again to move past him, but his grip only tightens as he forces you to actually face him. “Buck-“

“You can tell me, you know?” He says quietly as his grip slackens. Your eyes meet his, pools of blue staring back at you with something akin to hurt. “You can trust me. We’re best friends, right? You’re my-“

“You don’t have to lie to me, Bucky. Pretend to care. You can go back to the bar and…” You pull your hand from him and cross your arms over your chest. “And tomorrow we can start being with people we actually care about.”

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as his own words are repeated back and left out in the open between you two. “That’s not what I…”

“What did you mean then?” You cut him off. You want to sound angry, but your tone is sad and tired. “Enlighten me, please.”

“I just meant… I meant we could date who we wanted to date, I didn’t mean for it to sound so awful.” He answers quietly. “I care about you a lot. We’ve been friends for over half a decade, of course I care about you.”

You swallow thickly. “What if I don’t want to date anyone else?” You force yourself to ask. If not now, then when? Ten years from now at a reunion of your show? You couldn’t live with this what if.

“What?” Bucky’s hand falls from your wrist as he takes a step back like your words have burned him.

You push through the thundering of your heart and ringing in your ears to ask, “haven’t you ever thought about it? I mean, four years of just us, all those dates and premieres, was it really all just work for you?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw as you stare at him expectantly. “Have you?”

“I asked the question I think that would imply…” You trail off as his answer weighs down on your mind. It feels like a no. No. No. No. It’s on repeat in your mind as you move to sit down on your bed. “After a while the dates and photos and sappy posts didn’t feel all that forced anymore.” You admit quietly.

Bucky paces silently in front of you. You’re unsure of what’s going through his mind as he does it and it’s all you can do to not tap anxiously as you watch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asks when he finally pauses in front of you. You look up at him unsure of what to say. “I mean… When did you start…” He trails off like he doesn’t want the answer.

You look down at your hands in your lap. Despite your worries in telling Bucky you guess you had never truly thought of this conversation ending up this way. All these questions felt like Bucky preparing for a gentle rejection.

“I don’t know. After our second anniversary?” You keep your answer to him vague despite you being fully aware of when you started seeing Bucky differently. “That post you wrote for me that day. All the ones after. All of those words were fake?”

Your mind drifts to his words that day. The sweet and short caption had made butterflies erupt as you scrolled through the photos he had posted with it. Despite you both being required to post something, the photos he had chosen had been entirely genuine.

Pictures the two of you had taken together on set, selfies during your fake dates, and even a sweet set of photo booth pictures from your first premiere together.

You had stared at the post far too long as emotions rushed through you. Your heart raced at the idea of Bucky taking his time to pick photos that meant something to the both of you.

“I think that..” You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful reminders. “I think you should go.” You stand up suddenly, your hands pushing gently at his chest.

Bucky’s eyes widen as his hands come up grip your arms in an attempt to stop you. “Woah. Let’s talk about this. I’m just trying to figure everything out.”

“Figure it out? What is there to figure out, Bucky?” You cry out, shoving harder. “If you don’t know how you feel then you should figure it out on your own.” You move past him to open the door.

Bucky follows after you hastily. “Sweetheart, wait, please. I just need a moment.” You grip his forearms tightly using Bucky’s own momentum against him as you guide him to the hallway outside your room. “I wasn’t expecting this. We have articles and photos and interviews planned about a break-up tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Bucky.” The two of you are back where your night began. Opposite sides of the door as you stare, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? The article will be published and we’ll confirm it and life will move on.”

The door slams shut in his face without warning, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You stare blankly at the ugly, green shade its painted in silence as you remind yourself; It was all fake. A script you had been given and followed to a tee. One you had gotten too caught up in.

You’re feelings don’t change the ending.

There’s a slow knock on your door. You suck in a breath as you move to open it an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Bucky.” You’re cut off as his hands come up to rest on your cheeks and he pulls you towards him. Anything you had to say dissipates as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

Your hands come up to grip his t-shirt tightly as you kiss him back your tongue slipping into his mouth while he pulls you flush against his body.

An arm wraps around your waist and Bucky pushes you back into your room, his foot kicking your door closed harshly.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you finally pull away to look at Bucky, but he speaks before you can say anything.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” He breathes out. His eyes are wide with nerves and his cheeks flushed red. The sight of it mixed with his kiss makes your heart pound. “I’ve thought about kissing you for real, not in a room filled with crew and cameras. About what it would be like to be on a date where paparazzi hasn’t been tipped off. Baby,” his hands rest on your cheeks again as he forces your eyes to meet his, “I’ve thought about it all. What it would be like to be with you, to really be with you in every way. Sometimes it’s all I think about when we’re together.”

You take pause, your eyes widening and hands freezing in place as you listen to what he’s saying. “Why didn’t you say anything then? Why’d you just pace and ask me all those questions?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” He smiles brightly when you giggle. “Because I couldn’t believe you actually felt the same way. I was in shock.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You smile up at him softly. “What do we do about the article tomorrow?” You whisper your question.

You feel giddy with excitement as Bucky’s hands land on your hips to hold you in place, flush against him. “We deny it.”

“What about our managers?” Your smile doesn’t fade even as stress over the situation arises. “And…And our separate interviews tomorrow?”

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” Bucky smiles. “We’ll tell them all about how in love we still are. That the source in the article was a dud and we’ve just been private recently as the show wraps.”

“We will?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing at his words. “You want to say all that?”

Bucky nods his head. “I do.”

You don’t say anything else he leans in for another kiss, you could worry tomorrow.

Bonus -> The Next Day

liked by buckybarnes, samwilson and 134,759 others

yourinstagram the final season of our show premieres this weekend and we’re so excited for you all to see how it ends. the first photo is from tonight and the second from our first season! the past six years has brought me so much joy and i’m so grateful for everything this show has given me. most importantly though, i’m thankful for you, bucky barnes. my adrian to my lucia. my best friend. my lover. thanks for making this show so fun.

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samwilson we made a great show. love you guys.

buckyfan thought y’all were a pr stunt lmao

yourinstagram apparently you’re not supposed to really fall in love for those to work…

buckybarnes i am most grateful for you. you made work worth it every god damn day.

yourfan my favorite couple on and off the screen.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is my first ever time joining a writing challenge, it really pushed me to work through block and focus on this instead of letting is die out like i have with other projects despite liking them so much!

(hoping you guys don’t hate the extra instagram idea, i just felt it fit in!)

hopefully you enjoyed and if you did, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#the hotel indigo writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader

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midnight-dreamerness · 3 years ago

Text

Savior

Chapter 2: Finding Strength

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm

word count: 2.1k

Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.

You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.

You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.

“Did you do it?”

There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.

“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”

And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.

“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”

With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.

After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.

Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”

You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.

“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.

When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?

These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.

It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.

“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.

What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?

The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.

Deceive Hay Halstead.

You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.

You wondered if he would be proud of you now.

Would he?

There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.

It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.

You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.

I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.

You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.

Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.

He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.

But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.

You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.

So you sucked it up.

It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.

The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.

“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.

You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.

“Do it.” It would say.

Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.

You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.

“You’re strong. Remember that.”

You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.

A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.

How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.

Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”

He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.

I lost myself trying to please him.

You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.

You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.

You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry

One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.

It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.

You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.

“Halstead.”

“JJ?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.

“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.

“Address. I need an address.”

The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.

Jay repeats your name a couple of times.

“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.

“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”

You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.

Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.

“How the hell did you get out?”

He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.

“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.

“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.

You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.

“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.

“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.

“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.

There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.

“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”

The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.

“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.

Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”

A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!

@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life

(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #detective jay halstead #jay halstead one shots #chicago pd x reader #dom jay halstead

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springgirlwaiting4fall · 2 years ago

Text

The First Year Part 3 out of 3

A Dax Harwood Love Story

Thank you @wheeler-beretta-harwood for not only thinking of Dax using the nickname Dove, but for also letting me use it. 💕🕊

April

Being Dax’s girlfriend was amazing, like a high you never experienced before and never would experience with anyone else. Except when it wasn’t. He was gone for days sometimes even weeks. And the first couple of days home he was bruised and jet legged. You would come over and just watch movies together. When you snuggled into him, he would wince or groan. Naturally you’d sit up, but Dax would always pull you back down.

Dax was gone for two whole weeks and he was flying home right after a very intense match with Cash against the Briscoe Brothers. You couldn’t wait to see him, the night before you didn’t sleep. And we’re waiting at his house when the Uber pulled up to drop him off. Dax pulled you in for a long hug, he smelled your hair and kissed the top of your head. “I missed ya little Dove.” You walked into his home together. “Just let me shower and we can get something to eat and catch up.” He walked to the bathroom “make yourself at home.”

He came down and the two of your ordered food and had a quiet dinner, Dax was definitely tired. You offered to go home, but he insisted on you staying the night. The movie was rented and the two of you started to settle down on the couch. You were so excited Dax was back that you squeezed his waist a little to enthusiastic. And might have squeezed his ribs instead. Dax let out a sharp breath and you instantly sat up. “God Damn it Y/N.” You froze Dax always tried to not curse in front of you and never had cursed at you before. “What is wrong with you? I just had one of the most physical matches of my life and you just jump on me like that?”

Dax was overtired and exhausted, you knew that. But that didn’t give him the right to snap at you. you told him that and “if you needed space, you could have just told me.”

Dax rolled his eyes. “What was I supposed to when you were sitting outside my house like a lost puppy?” He went to far as soon as he heard the words come out of his mouth, he knew it. And when he saw your stunned face it broke his heart.

You stood up and started to put your shoes back on and grabbed your bag. Dax followed you around apologizing, begging you not to go. Before walking out the door you turned to face him. “I was waiting because when you were away. I realized that I love you Dax. I have never loved anyone as much as you.” This was not how you wanted to tell him, but the word vomit could not be stop. “I made you a key to my place. Because I hate that I don’t get to be the last thing you see when you leave and be the first thing you see when you get home. That I miss you so much it physically hurts. And I’m not looking for anything in return. I wasn’t even expecting you to say I love you back. I understand your in pain and exhausted and that you do this for the job you love so much. And I have a job that I love so much I get it. I get you. But right now I need space.”

Walking out the front door you heard Dax weakly say “Little Dove I…”

May

It had been a week since Dax had snapped at you. He had sent you flowers to your work. Chocolates to your house and had texted you multiple times. You two weren’t officially broken up, although you weren’t even sure if you were ever officially together. Dax and you never even had the boyfriend and girlfriend conversation. What you did know is that you two needed to talk in person. So you waited until you knew he would have been home for a day and would be rested before reaching out.

It felt like as soon as you sent the text asking if he would like to meet at the coffee shop, Dax was replying back that he would be there in an hour. Walking into the coffee shop, the nerves made you feel like the first time you were meeting him here. He was sitting in the corner, and he looked exhausted. When he noticed you, he jumped up right away and embraced you in a tight hug. “I’m sorry Y/N. I was sore and tired and I took it out on you.” He pulled away and looked you in the eye. “Can you forgive me Little Dove.”

Looking into his eyes, you could see how tortured he was. “I do forgive you Dax. But what you did was not okay.” His eyes teared up a little at hearing you could forgive him, he pulled your hand down so you were both sitting next to each other at the table. Your favorite drink next to his two cups of coffees. “I don’t understand the physical pain of a job, but I do understand being tired. Both are things that you have to discuss with your therapist. You need to find ways to cope. And if you need space. You have to tell me, but in a way that isn’t mean.”

Dax still holding your hand nodded. “I have talked to my therapist and we’re working on different ways to help calm me down. The thing is I didn’t want you to leave and I didn’t want space. I wanted to tell you that I was hurting both physically, mentally and that I needed you more in my life. But I felt ashamed, I got in my own head thinking a man shouldn’t admit that.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear how proud you are of him. The two of you sat and talk about different grounding techniques and catching up. The week felt more like years apart. And you finally felt comfortable to ask Dax what also has been bothering your mind. “Dax. I know,” you froze feeling silly, but you keep going. “I know there is no one else your seeing. But am I your girlfriend?”

Your face burns as Dax looks horrified, your mind runs wild thinking of ways to fix this situation. “Little Dove, you don’t think I’m your boyfriend?”

Bitting your lip. “It’s just that we have never said the words out loud.“

Dax large hands cover yours and he presses your foreheads against each other. “I’m sorry I just assumed you knew you were my girl. But now that your brought it to my attention I have to ask just to be sure. Y/N will you be my girlfriend?”

It melts your heart at how this intense and self proclaimed grumpy professional wrestler can be so soft and tender with you. You kiss the tip of his nose. “How could I say no to such an handsome admire?” And you love how his cheeks turns red at you calling him handsome.

June

The following weeks Dax and you have become more confident in your relationship. It wasn’t some overnight miracle, but knowing that you two were on the same page had helped a lot. Your communication skills with each other had opened up as well. Dax wasn’t afraid to say what he needed to say knowing you would never think that he was less of a man. Even if he was in a dark spot or needed more affection from you. And you were saying what you wanted and needed as well.

You did however keep the key you made for him back in April, things were going the right speed and you didn’t need to rush it. That’s what you told yourself. In reality you weren’t really in your home if Dax was home. One sleepover you went for a shower and found it filled with your brand of shampoo ,conditioner, body wash, and a loofah. All right next to Daxs 3 in 1 Mens soap.

The next week you came over and Dax had moved all his bathroom belongings to one side and told you that you should just leave a toothbrush and some girly stuff here.

There was also a vanilla coconut candle on the living room coffee table. When you asked him about it Dax shrugged and said he thought you would like it. By the end of the month Dax had cleared out half of his dresser and closet for you.

The two of you were laying in his bed. You were curled up into him playing with his chest hair. Both naked and still out of breath. Your eyes were heavy and you were going to fall asleep any moment. You had never felt so happy and safe in your whole life. Yawing you lifted your head up to kiss your boyfriends lip. “I love you Dax Hardwood.”

Dax grinned and kissed you hard. “I love you too. Y/N.” Your heart was so full. “Little Dove, Will you come to work with me when AEW comes here next month?” You were so surprised. Back at your first coffee trip Dax had told you he would never invite any woman to a wrestling thing. He didn’t want his two words to combine.

July

You had never been backstage to anything and the energy was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was a constant buzz that only got more intense as the hours ticked down closer to the opening match. Dax’s work before his match consisted of interviews, promos, meet and greets and signings. But you didn’t mind there was plenty to see and watch to keep you busy. Even watching the ring be constructed was fascinating.

What was more interesting though was the way Dax would act when he could be around you. He had at least one hand on you at all time. And if Dax couldn’t be there he had Cash or Cm Punk sitting with you. By the time the dark matches started everyone at AEW my not have known your name, but they knew you were Dax’s girlfriend. When it was just Cash and you sitting in catering, Cash told you Dax didn’t want anyone to try and steal you away. And truth be told if Dax came to your work, you would be the same way.

Before you met Dax you where a on and off fan of professional wrestling. Now you had AEW on weekly as background noise while working out or when you bought work home. Of course you gave your full attention whenever Dax was on. You also would watch all the other promotions he was on if they were available. Even just seeing him on tv you could see the love and passion he had for his job.

But Watching him from the front row was like nothing you had ever seen before. You could physically feel his excitement radiating off of Dax. You also never realized how good he really was or how athletic he was. As you watch him celebrate his win with Cash and their hometown crowd you thought to yourself two things. One you were incredibly turned on and two you were going to marry Dax Harwood someday.

August

When you moved to North Carolina you didn’t know how hot and wet it could be at the same time. It seemed like it had been thundering and lighting for a week straight now. And the temperature never went under 90 degrees. It wasn’t that bad until a tree branch crashed into your bedroom window. You were FaceTiming Dax when it happened and he insisted on you packing a bag and going right to his place. He had already given your the door keypad number last month.

It should have felt awkward being in Dax’s house without him there. But you were over there so much anyway that it wasn’t. Plus when you started to miss him you could smell his soap or wear one of his shirts to bed. The day Dax was due to arrive home, your stomach knotted. The last time you were waiting for him didn’t end well. So when you checked on line and saw that the plane he was on was landing, you left Dax a note telling him you were going to do some shopping and you would be back later that night.

You were walking around Target just wondering around the aisles when you phone buzzed three times alerting you to three different texts. Before you could pull your phone out of your pocket it was ringing. Anxiety raced through you as you saw it was Dax. What if he had gotten into a car accident or something. You picked up the phone and Dax asked you to get home immediately.

He was waiting for you on the porch, pacing back and forth. As soon as your car was in parked, Dax was walking to you. It was still pouring rain when the two of you met in the middle of the driveway. Dax immediately wrapped you in a tight hug and asked “Why did you leave?”

You looked up into his big brown eyes. “I wanted to give you your space.”

Dax shook his head. “Y/N, as soon as I told you to come over, I couldn’t wait to see you first thing when I got home.” He kissed the top of your head and continued. “I love you little Dove, with all my heart. I don’t want you to keep going back and fourth. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night.”

You nodded that was everything you wanted too. “Dax are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Yes, Y/N. Will you please move in with me?”

“Dax, there is nothing I would like more than to move in with you.” You stood on your toes to reach Dax and pulled him down so you could capture his lip. The kissed warmed you up all the way to your toes. It was starting to get hot and heavy, that neither of you noticed that the rain had started to slow down to a stop. Slowly you two pulled away and walked into the house together, ready for the next year together.

#aew #aew fanfiction #dax harwood #cash and dax #ftr #top guys

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peeterparkr · 3 years ago

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red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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persephones-wren · 3 years ago

Note

Could you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader and Kaz are more than friends but not lovers and the reader is a Crow and therefore, can handle things for herself so she doesn't tell Kaz when a friend's ex is threatening her but Kaz ultimately finds out when the ex comes to the Crow Club and Kaz handles it since as much as he knows she capable, he is still protective of her and it leads to them finally becoming official?

Protective (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

I'm sorry about the ending, I couldn't find a great way to finish it- but maybe I'll fix that when I can think of something. Besides that, I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: depicted abuse, mentions of sedatives, misogynistic language (please let me know if there's any more)

Genre: not fluff

Word Count: 2705

You had a confusing relationship with Kaz.

It was an odd “more than friends, less than dating” relationship. It made sense, considering in the Barrel, women were more property than anything else. Besides, leverage was a thing everyone wanted on Kaz, even his closest allies. He wasn’t going to put himself in a position that made him anyone’s puppet. You didn’t exactly need him to declare you untouchable, anyway; you were usually more than okay with skirmishing with the Dime Lions and others that happened to be in your way.

You had never expected him to help you handle things that you could do alone.

It had been one of your wealthier friends, who helped get you out of the Menagerie. She had dated Zachariah Alix, a man with power and influence. She had usually dealt with his off-putting advances and abuse, but even you, who couldn’t see her often, could tell she wasn’t happy.

“Break up with him, then.” Your voice echoed in her private chambers as she sighed, multiple emotions running through her expression.

“Y/N, I just, I can’t. We’re already supposed to be married soon. Criminals in the Barrel are lucky in the way that you’re allowed to love who you please,” and damn your head for immediately thinking Kaz, “but merchers, well, it’s not that simple.”

“You callin’ me a criminal?”

“Yes,” she muttered, and you laughed, “but that’s not the point.”

“Are your parents forcing you to marry him?”

“Not exactly, but there’s going to be a lot more pressure if I break up with him.”

“Alright, well...from the list of merchers we’ve stolen from-'' she shot you a look, “sorry, sorry. It’s true though. I’m sure there’s someone on the list that’s for you.”

“I’ve got someone in mind already.”

“Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it? Break up with him and get with the other guy. No parental pressure. Why do you need my advice, then? I get caught here and I’m as good as dead.”

“Okay, okay! It’s not parental pressure,” she lowered her voice, guilt painted across her face. “He’s going to stalk me if we break up. He might kill me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright,” you mulled it over. “That’s different. What can I do for you, then?”

“Can you be there when we break up? Moral support? And perhaps, well...if it wouldn’t trouble you, maybe do a little something to get him to leave me alone.”

“Like beat him up. It won’t trouble me,” you had answered. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief. “You’re the best, Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

…

“I don’t think we should continue on like this.”

There was a tension-filled silence, before Alix spoke again. “Why not, sweetheart?” He advanced towards her, and you had to prevent yourself from physically cringing. You were mostly moral support, and there to defend your friend if she got into deep shit, but, well...hopefully it wouldn’t come to revealing yourself.

“You- get off of me,” she pushed him away harshly. “You don’t get to talk me into forgiving you again. You are a child. You hit me and scream and throw tantrums. I want to be with someone who loves me, not someone who treats me like his mother. So that’s it. Get out of my house. We’re breaking up.”

There was another silence, before he spoke up again. “You little bitch,” he snarled, and grabbed at her dress, “you think you can just break up with me? No one’s ever going to be there for you. I’ll kill you and blame it on some Barrel thug. Check yourself, you’d be nobody without me.”

His hand closed in on her neck, and she looked to you, panicked. You put a finger to your lips before you snuck behind him, flicking off the safety and putting the pistol to his head.

He froze.

“Drop her.”

He did, and she slid down against the wall, tears streaming down her face. You had never intended to let it get that far, and it hurt your heart- but you had to deal with him first.

You knocked the gun into his head and used your elbow to knock him to the ground, putting a foot on his chest.

He looked up at you, terrified. What a coward.

“Too bad your daddy never taught you how to use guns,” you taunted, and grinned. “You leave her alone. She’s broken up with you. Get out of her house.”

“You’re Brekker’s whore, aren’t you?”

Your grin grows incredulous. You apply pressure to his chest steadily, and he wheezes, but he still continues.

“Yeah, look at you.You’re all upset, aren’t you, girl? Bet you’re sold out to half of the Barrel by him. Brekker likes his Kruge.” His eyes scan from underneath you. “Can’t say I’d blame him if he wanted to keep you as his personal pet, though.”

You scoff. “Careful what you say, I’m the one with a gun,” you remark, and you click a bullet into place for show, before taking your foot off. “Get out. If you touch her again, it’ll be more than me you’ll deal with.”

He scrambles upwards and disappears, and you hear the front door open and shut. You sigh.

“I’m sorry, I never intended for him to get that far. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” your friend sighs, hands lightly touching the bruises on her neck. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you. What about you? You’re not-”

“I’m not with Kaz.” You help her up, and she smothers out her dress. “If Alix ever bothers you again, let me know.”

“Of course. I doubt he will. Thank you again, Y/N.”

…

He never did bother her again, but you- you were a different story. Every day, now, Kaz would offer you a note with some vague taunt on it.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Brekker’s slut! Slept your way to the top!”

“Let’s fight without a gun next time. I’ll have you pinned underneath me.”

“I’ll sedate and have my way with you. You still know some things from the Menagerie, don’t you?”

You had brushed off most of the taunts and threats, but they might’ve been starting to impact you, just a bit. You had assumed that Kaz had never read the threats. Each time, he would hand you the note with no expression.

Today’s note was a bit different.

“Y/N. Another note came in for you today.” He set the note on the table.

“Huh? Oh, thanks.”

You picked it up and unfolded the note, shielding the back of the paper with one hand. Kaz was clever, one of the many things you liked about him. You were sure that he’d try and read the back of the note if he could.

“Let’s meet on your territory. Crow Club at eight, in the alleyway.”

“Got yourself a boy, Y/N? These notes have started coming in every day,” Jesper whistled next to you, eyes scanning over the note. You look up, and Kaz is gone, watching from more of a distance. They’ve got it completely wrong.

You glance back down, and fail to notice how Kaz’s fingers tighten on his cane. Your laugh is dry, and you shake your head. “Nothing of the sort.”

Jesper ignores your denial. “Well, whoever he is, he seems awfully persistent. He wants to meet at the Crow Club, in the alleyway? Kinda sweet he wants to meet on your land, but why won’t he come in? He afraid of us, or somethin’?”

“Something like that,” you affirm.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to meet in here, either,” Inej says.

“Especially not with him here,” Jesper adds.

Your eyes meet Kaz’s across the room, and you both stare for a moment before he turns and looks away.

“Maybe.” Your answers are ambiguous, and you’re sure both Inej and Jesper want to know more, but you need to prepare for tonight.

“Sorry, guys. Excuse me.”

…

You have three throwable knives strapped into your boots, a small handgun holstered in your coat, and a syringe full of clozapine tucked up your sleeve. You’re prepared to take Alix down easily. You don’t exactly intend to shoot him, if only to make sure that the Crows don’t have a bigger target on their back from getting involved with the wealthy, but- well, you can’t deny it’s good to be ready in dire circumstances.

It’s 7:58 by the time you’re heading out to the back of the alley. You’re hiding behind the wall, just about to step over, but there’s already voices conversing there.

Did he bring backup? You grimace. You hadn’t considered that he might not fight fairly.

“Did she send her boyfriend after me ‘cause she was too much of a pussy to show?”

“I’d be careful what you say about Y/N.”

That’s Alix, and Kaz.

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to feel. He never did these kinds of things for you, never declared you his, but- you could handle this yourself. You didn’t need his protection, and you didn’t need him going out to deal with things because of one creepy ex.

Or, your thoughts betray you, you’re worried for him, because this could be a trap.

He glances over at the wall, where he seems to know you’re standing. It’s a warning glance, one to be quiet and let him deal with it.

“Aw, Brekker, you sweet on her? And here I thought it was a one-sided thing. Too bad I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Alix comes swinging. Kaz doesn’t say anything in reply, and instead jabs his cane forward, right into his stomach. He stumbles backward, and Kaz is still poised, waiting.

“I thought you were going to be more of a challenge than this. Even a fool knows not to attack first.”

“I’m no fool, Brekker. Don’t make any more sudden moves, or you’ll be shot. Do you know how easy it is to hire hitmen?”

There’s a faint look of surprise in Kaz’s expression before it smooths back into calm. “Well, to be honest,” he smiles pleasantly, “I thought merchers were above such methods.”

He’s glancing at you again, before his eyes move over two guard towers.

He’s pointing out to you where they are. Shit, what do you do? You’re no Inej, who can scale the walls and take them down silently. You’re no Jesper, who can shoot them with precision. You’re not going to be able to take out both snipers quickly enough. If you kill Alix and Kaz doesn’t dive behind the wall in time, he’ll get shot.

You let out a silent sigh. If only you could get both Kaz and Alix behind the wall, then you can get rid of the problem at its source, and then fuck the hitmen. They’re not going to kill Kaz if they can’t get paid.

“The rich are never above any methods. The only thing the rich care about is eradicating the criminals that roam the streets. I thought I was gonna get Y/N, and I could take her back to Tante Heleen,” he grinned, “But you’ll be worth a lot more. Wonder who’ll lay claim to you first.”

Kaz doesn’t say anything, just puts his hands behind his back, as if he’s waiting to be cuffed. But he gives quick signals to you, right before Alix steps around to secure the bonds- a quick countdown. He’s expecting you to shoot.

“No plans up your sleeves this time, Dirtyhands?”

You suddenly fire at Alix’s shoulder, a scream tearing through his throat as the cuffs drop to the ground. Kaz dives towards the wall, grabbing his cane along the way and breathing hard next to you.

Somehow, your aim remains true, and when you peek over the corner, you see Alix desperately trying to grasp at his wound. A grim sort of satisfaction greets your expression.

“Should’ve shot him in the head,” Kaz looks on with you.

“I’m trying not to paint a bigger target on our backs,” you explain, before you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. Damn him for taking the fall for you. Did he know it was going to be a trap?

“Why the hell would you confront him alone? I had it handled, Kaz.”

“Not now..” His stare is directed at the shadows. And before you can get another word out, both of you are headed to his office.

The brisk walk is silent, and the tension could be cut through with a knife. At last, you reach his office, and he shuts the door, and sits down at his desk. You stand in front of him.

“Care to explain why you decided to confront Alix by yourself?” “I read the notes. I knew it was a trap.”

This doesn’t make you feel any better. “So you read the notes, where he called me a whore, a slut, your personal toy, and you don’t decide to tell me? You let it continuously happen, and then when the note comes today, you decide to go and white-knight for me because protecting me is a better idea than consulting me, huh?” you scoff. “That’s bullshit. You know I can handle myself. There’s a reason you chose me to be a part of the Crows, is there not? Or is what Alix said true? Did I sell myself to get to the top? Become your bitch?”

“I knew you could handle yourself just fine,” Kaz says calmly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, because you didn’t consider the fact it was a trap. You could’ve died.”

“I would’ve been fine alone. Just because you’re the one who accounts for everything doesn’t mean I don’t use my head.” You know you’re being unfair, he’s right about the fact that you thought the fight was legitimate, but you could’ve saved yourself all the same.

“I’m not saying you don’t use your head, I’m saying that the probability of you dying if you went alone were much higher. I wanted to help you, save your ass back there,” he refutes.

“I would’ve died. So what? Deaths happen all the time in the Barrel! I die, and what?”

He doesn’t say anything.

You give a sardonic laugh. “I’m just an investment to you. I do what you want, with no question or hesitation, because I put my faith in you. My death just means the loss of a good soldier. I’m replaceable, though. My opinions are invaluable, so you don’t talk to me before you do shit. I’m always going to be underneath you, just a pawn.”

“You’re assuming things.”

“Like what, then?”

“Have you considered the fact that I was there because I wanted to help you? Because you’re a part of my Crows, and I don’t take anyone threatening us too kindly?”

His admission has you pausing, but he continues. “You die, and what? Forget what I may feel. What about Inej and Jesper? What about Nina, Wylan? I don’t want you to be underneath me. I see you as an equal.”

“I-”

“That’s why I was there. Because I-” love you, he nearly says, but he stops himself. “I protect the people I love.”

“And I’m someone you love,” you state quietly.

“Yes.”

You’re not sure how much you must have pissed him off to make him an honest man, but you can’t help smiling a little. “Saints, Kaz, at least ask a girl to be yours before you tell her you love her.”

“Fine. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?” You grin.

“Stop dodging the question,” he bites out.

“Yeah, I will,” you sigh. “But don’t get yourself killed, and especially not over me, please.”

“Well, darling, I think it’s fair of me to ask the same thing for you- don’t be reckless. People die far too easily in the Barrel,” he responds.

There’s another small silence, before you speak up again.

“Kaz. Thank you.”

He’s slightly surprised at the genuine warmth in your eyes, quickly replacing the anger that was in them before. He shrugs a little.

“It’s what lovers do, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “Lovers.”

Lovers, indeed.

#shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows x reader #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #soc kaz #soc x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker #thank you anon #might edit later #request

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angryinternetduck · 3 years ago

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yellow & blue

[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).

The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.

If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.

The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.

It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.

As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.

Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.

The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.

Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.

Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.

Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.

Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.

He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.

One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.

He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.

Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.

It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.

No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.

Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.

Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.

Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.

The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.

It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.

Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.

Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.

“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.

“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”

You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”

You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.

Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”

He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.

Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.

You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.

He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.

That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.

An actual, real live angel.

An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.

Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.

He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.

Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -

"Hey.”

Harry freezes.

For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.

There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.

“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.

“You’re welcome.”

The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.

“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.

Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.

A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.

Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.

Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.

“That would be something, huh?” you say.

“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”

You smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.

“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.

You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.

“See ya.”

You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.

Again.

Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.

You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.

But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.

That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.

The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.

Harry should get back to his table.

He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.

The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.

Feather was taken off the setlist.

Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.

That was very strange.

Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.

He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.

Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.

He cried a lot that night.

When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.

At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.

Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.

It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.

Because really, nothing gold can stay.

Not even the gold of a yellow suit.

***

ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.

thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!

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#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles

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