#haunting me that she may very well be the past person alive to know what happened to Kpp’ar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redhead-batgal · 3 years ago

Note

Heyy

Glad to see ya back!! Really love your writinggg

If I may request older!Damian x reader where they were together then she 'dies' but not really... Like he thinks she died - and was completely heartbroken - but she's actually alive... And they're reunited by coincidence... And he breaks down seeing her, thinking at first he's hallucinating.

I hope you got what I mean bc I'm awful at explaining :')

Thanks anyway, can't wait to read more of your writing!!

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Vigilante! Reader x Older! Damian Wayne/ Robin

Content: cursing, some violence, memory loss, might traumatize some

Word Count: 3,174

P.S: Soooo I kinda changed the request but that was mainly due to the need to write this amnesia! reader and relive my percy jackson obsession days. (If you know you know) sooo yeah sorry, not so sorry.

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When you woke up with a splitting headache in a hospital with machines screaming and pulsing, you didn't know what to do. For one you didn't remember- well you didn't exactly remember anything. All you could remember was someone shouting a name. A name you assumed was your own.

The agonizing screams seemed to haunt your dreams, waking you always were shaken with the screams still in your ears. What seemed the worst about screams was not that they still echoed in your ears but that you weren't scared when you heard them. No, your heart seemed to ache and part of you-almost all of you yearned to stop the persons screams. To stop and comfort them, to let him know you were alright and alive, and he had no reason to scream.

He... he it was a he? This person from your dreams, this person who knew you before you lost everything seemed to care for you so- that he screamed almost bloodcurdlingly your name.

It hurt, so badly to know someone out there might love or care about you so much.

Sitting in the homeless shelter you stared at the wall as the screams still echoed in your ears. A hand pressed onto your shoulder you blinked and found a fellow street kid, Saph.

"You alright Y/N?"

You nodded slowly.

"I think," you began, "I've got a clue into my past."

They blinked and sank down next to your eyes wide. Ever since you entered the home, they had been kind and loving to you.

"What did you figure out?"

You sighed and squeezed your hands together.

"The voice I hear, the screams... it's a guy. I know that much... I don't know who or what yet and- and I just know he loved me. And, and it kind of hurts."

Saph let out a sigh and squeezed your shoulder sniffing. They tended to be very empathetic. So much so they would cry if you said anything slightly sad.

"So, you know it's a he, and he loved you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, he really really loved me."

Saph raised their head suddenly and looked at you.

"Do- do you know if he's alive?"

You passed and your heart ached.

"I don't know... I think he might be hurt or dead, but I don't know, and I'm really really worried liked what if he died during the- the."

"The what Y/N?"

The sound of a T.V crackling on caused you flinch and you blinked staring at the wall as you almost saw a face.

"Uh.. the- I don't know."

Shaking your head, you place your face into your hands and sighed. Why could you remember? Why was all of it faded, blurry or not there at all.

"It'll be okay Y/N, you'll remember eventually. Remember what the doc said? It will all come back you just gotta give it time."

There was a sound on the t.v, loud a lot like when something hits the ground but stronger... more destructive almost. Like boom... boom- EXPLOSION!

"Explosion." you muttered, "it was an explosion."

"Explosion? IS that what caused your memory loss?"

You nodded, "I- I think so."

"Yes, my father and I will be visiting shelters to see how the new implemented technology is working."

The voice-it seemed so familiar, and you blinked turning around to see Nico sitting in front of the t.v. A boy-well man a little older then you thought you were was on the screen. He looked upset and his eyes were loaded with bags covered by crappy makeup.

Your heart leapt and you launched yourself forward to Nico's side. He flinched and you pointed a the t.v. your chest aching and eyes stinging.

"Is- is this recent?"

Nico looked at the screen then back at you and nodded slowly, "this is live Y/N."

Live- live alive. Oh god.

Your throat burned and your eyes stung worse as water-tears streamed down your face and your knees went weak. Your body sank towards the floor and your heart and soul seemed to sing. To be lighter then before.

"Y/n!" Saph exclaimed rushing over to you, "Are you alright?"

You nodded then shook your head.

"I don't know I think so. i-I'm better relieved and and I don't know why."

Saph looked at the tv and tilted their head. Them hummed before looking back at you.

"Didn't they say you were found near Gotham?"

You shrugged wiping your nose as you tried to avoid looking at the t.v. but your mind kept drawing you back to it.

Nico had paused whatever he was watching, and the man sat frozen looking away from the screen his green eyes sad and blank. Sad, why was he so sad?

"Do- do you think he's the guy?"

You blinked looking away from the screen to see both Saph and Nico staring at you. You shrugged.

"I- i honestly don't know... what- what's his name?"

"Damian, Damian Wayne. He's the prince of Gotham Bruce Wayne's son."

You blinked a few times before looking to Saph.

"Doesn't Wayne industries fund this shelter?"

Saph nodded and you furrowed your brow. Sinking onto your but. Damian, Damian, Damian. it just sounded so right.

"If he's the guy we should call him up! Tell him you're here. Maybe you can figure out more about your past." Nico offered.

You shook your head. You- you couldn't risk it. Not if it wasn't. If you got your hopes up only to have them, come crashing down... it would break your heart.

"I- It might not be him. They might just look really similar. We don't know. and and I don't want to bother anyone if we're wrong." You said, "like Saph said I just have to wait. Eventually my memories will return."

Saph and Nico gave you strange look and you pushed yourself off of the floor. Everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be alright you knew it.

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

You couldn't sleep. The sound of his voice screaming that heart breaking scream of your name seemed too now be on repeat. All you could think about was the pain he was in, and how sad he looked... but that wasn't him right? There was no way the boy who screamed your name so passionately was the son of the most notorious playboy in Gotham. Wait... how did you know that? You barely even knew who Bruce Wayne was till today. How did you know he was a playboy? What was going on?

You mind screamed and fought with itself and you became almost certain that the boy's voice in your head was none other then Damian Wayne's.

Fidgeting in your bed you realized you weren't going to sleep. Not until you saw him, not until he knew what you knew. That the both of you were alive.

But-but why would he think you're dead... you thought he was dead, so he thought you were? You didn't like not knowing. Not understanding why this boy made your chest ache and heartbeat so fiercely. Or why the sound of his cry made you want to scream and shout and sob.

Pushing yourself from you bed you nodded. The only logical conclusion was to go and find him in Gotham. What else could you do? It's true you said to Saph and Nico you'd wait but-but your reasoning skills had a habit of fading during the night and for some reason your blood always pumped faster, and adrenaline coursed through you.

Moving towards the office of the manager of the shelter you knocked gently. The light inside flickered before you saw Sheran's weary face.

"Hey kiddo what's up."

You winced before quickly explaining everything to her. She blinked and nodded slowly. Rubbing her forehead, she shrugged.

"It can't be helped; you need to go. Going to Gotham might speed up your recovery process. I can send you there with some money. But I don't know where you're going to stay."

Your stomach swirled with excitment and you gave her a smile.

"I'm sure I'll figure it out. Thank you so much!"

She shrugged before patting your head, "It's nothing kiddo. I'm assuming you want to leave now."

You nodded and she sighed again. Moving back into her office she yanked open a drawer, pulling out a wad of paper and a strange rectangular thing she handed both to you.

With the paper in your hands, you were able to identify it as cash. And a lot of it. The rectangle though it- it was a taser. You didn't know how you knew but you did.

"A taser? Are you sure I can take this?" You asked

Sheran blinked before nodding slowly, "yeah I have a few extra lying around you're fine to take that one... I'm a bit surprised you know what is though. But if you are from Gotham, it makes a bit more sense."

With that she smiled and hugged you tightly before sending you on your way.

The train ride to Gotham seemed long, very long but for some reason you knew you had been on longer trips. Laughter echoed in your ears and the second you entered Gotham you spotted buildings with way too familiar graffiti and bat symbols that seemed to put you at ease.

The second your feet hit the pavement; you knew something just felt right. The smell, though it was musty and reeked of oil and a little of death it was comforting in how familiar it felt.

Leaving the train station, you made you way down some streets that seemed right. But you ended up in a grimy and dark alley. With the sun fading in the sky, you knew you had to find somewhere to crash for the night.

Maybe you could find another shelter? You didn't know, but it was getting late, and your nerves were beginning to tense.

You turned to leave when you heard a soft meowing. Turning back around you spotted a small kitten poking its head out from in between two trashcans. Its bright green eyes glimmered at you and black fur seemed familiar. Walking towards the cat you crouched down and held out your hand.

"Hello there," You mumbled.

For a moment, the cat just stared at you. But then, but then it slowly moved towards you. Finally stopping at your hand. You moved it a bit closer, and the cat let out another meow before beginning to purr and press its body against your hand. You smiled, something about this causing your heart to slow and chest to ache.

"Little kitten- oh there you are... what do we have here?" A soft voice remarked causing you to look up.

A dark-haired woman in an almost black outfit looked you up and down. Her eyes glimmered as she almost smiled, staring at you and the cat.

"Uh, hi." You began weakly as the cat crawled into your arms, "is this your cat?"

The woman blinked looked you over and nodded slowly.

"Yes, he is mine... are you alright?"

Something in you settled almost as if you knew you could trust this woman and you shook your head.

"I- I don't have anywhere to stay and I don't really know where I am... do you know where the nearest shelter is?"

The woman smiled before tilting her head.

"No, but I have a better idea. Since you helped me find my cat. You can stay with me. And tell me about this situation you've found yourself in why don't you?"

You hesitated for a moment, but the cat purred in your arms and everything about this seemed safe and right. You nodded slowly rising.

"O-okay. I- I'm Y/N what's your name?"

The woman smiled before looking you over once again.

"Selina, I think we will have much to talk about. This way."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Selina was very kind, giving you a place to stay and hearing out your entire story. She seemed interested and concerned. And she was very helpful. When you explained that you were looking for someone and who, she informed you about the Waynes.

"They aren't terrible people just terribly wealthily. And the youngest Damian and his father currently are out on business."

You shrank into yourself. So, he wasn't here. Great. This whole trip seemed to be a waste. Though meeting Selina was rather nice.

You sighed, pulling your legs to your chest as you watched the sun rise. Nerves and disappointment had kept you up all night. Somewhere around two, Selina left. You assumed she thought you were asleep. Mainly because when she returned, just as the sun fully rose into the sky, she seemed surprised to see you staring out the window.

"Did you sleep at all kitten?"

You shook your head; you hadn't told her exactly everything but a big chunk of what had happened to you.

"I remember one thing," You began, hearing her set things down, "One thing about my past and it's not even really a thing. Just a voice, a voice screaming my name. Or at least I think it's my name. They sound so scared- so heartbroken. And and I just want to tell them I'm alright. To let him know I'm alive so he doesn't need to be scared anymore. But- but I can't remember. I can't remember who he really is or who I am. I can't remember why he should be so scared for me and it... it makes me lose sleep. Because the only thing I can seem to hear is that scream."

Selina had gone quiet, then you heard her footsteps as she approached you. Something was slid across your shoulder, and you watched as a long rectangular paper fell into your lap. A ticket, a ticket to take you back to the shelter. Back t Sheran and Saph and Nico. Back so you could remember in your own time.

"Thank you," You whisper as you heard her retreat, "thank you for all you've done for me. Even- even though I don't even know who you are."

Selina was still silent when the thought crossed your mind.

"You knew me, didn't you?"

"Not exactly kitten. Not exactly."

Looking behind you, you smiled.

"Well thank you anyways. I'm glad I was- I was able to know someone who at least kind of knew me."

You pushed yourself to your feet and began gathering your things. You went to walk out but paused by the door.

"Y/N," Selina said and your turned back, "that is your name. You don't need to worry about that."

You smiled and nodded before turning and walking out the door.

The train ride back seemed too fast, quickly passing through Gotham and its comforts. Passing through the city that was your home before you forgot everything. Taking you back to unknowing.

By the time you got back to the shelter everything was getting quiet and the sun was once again crisp on the horizon. You wander back in, greeting those you met and set your stuff on to your bed. Before you could unpack however Saph stopped you.

"Y/N! I'm so glad you're back, how was it?"

You shrugged before flopping onto your bed.

"I don't know. I didn't really learn anything. I mean unless you count knowing the name, I've been using is my name. But I already kinda knew that."

Saph nodded clearly half paying attention.

"That's nice, The Waynes are here."

You sat up looking them in the eyes, "what?"

"The Waynes, Bruce and Damian are here. Apparently, they put in this new tech in each shelter and the two of them have been going around making sure it's working properly. Have been for like a month. Ours is the last before they head back to Gotham."

You froze, your throat going dry as something in your head began to beat. Like a drum thumping and thudding over and over and over again. Your heart matched the beat, and your body went numb.

Thump

thump-thump

thump-thump-thump

thump-thump-thump-thump

thumpthump-thump-thump

thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump-

"Y/N, breathe come on it's okay."

You took in a breath and Saph let out a sigh of relief. They gave you a look before grabbing onto your hand and yanking you to your feet.

"Damian Wayne is alone in the therapy room right now. I think you should go talk to him."

You shook your head, and they began pulling you. You swallowed wanting to dig your feet in but Saph's hand were light and you knew they were right.

So, you let them pull you towards the room. Push the door open and shove you in.

The room was somewhat dark and sitting in a chair was him. He looked tired and broken. Staring at his phone he looked up and then back down only to double take. He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head.

"Are you-" You found yourself asking as you noticed his scratched knuckles and cut lip, "are you alright?"

"Just ignore it," He whispered to himself, "ignore it."

You took in a breath and took a step towards him. His voice-God, his voice sounded so different and so similar that scream.

"I hear you," You whispered, "in my head, screaming. And I know it's you and you're here and alive."

"She's not here, she's dead it's not real, it's not real it's not real-"

Your heart screamed and you felt something in you break as you slammed your fists against the table.

"I am real!" You snapped causing him to look at you.

Panting you shook your head and he swallowed, looking at you as if he finally saw you.

"I remember hitting my head," You began waving your hands around. "an explosion and you- you screaming my name and I remember to knowing who you were or why you were screaming my name just that you were worried and scared and that you loved me."

" I remember hearing your voice and seeing your face on the t.v. and realizing that you were the voice in my head. I remember seeing the sadness in your eyes and my heart aching and crying because you were alive but you were so sad. I remember wanting to make that sadness go away." You rambled

Damian stared at you his eyes wide and you pressed on. The door behind you creaked open but you ignored it.

"But I don't remember who I am, I don't really remember anything just that I loved you and hated to hear you crying my name in such a way. I remembered you and and how much you loved me, but I don't know who I am, I don't know anything. I know I love you but but-" You broke off shaking you head as you watched tears spill down his face and hot ones stain your cheeks.

"Who am I? Who- Who am I? Please please tell me. Who am I? "

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @krswrites @thefallingstarlight @masset-fotia

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

Text

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

Previous --- Next

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #the island chapter 8

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gladerscake · 4 years ago

Text

Blind Spots

(Gally x Reader)

Another lengthy one, because self-restraint means nothing to me. Major fluff ahead. Hope you enjoy!

Gally was back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. All this time, for the last six months, your grieving heart had wept for him, quietly, while you did your best to put on a brave facade and seem alright on the outside. You always made sure that none of your friends could see exactly how much pain you were in. They didn’t need to know. They couldn’t have done anything to change it, and their looks of pity wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. So you kept it locked away, only letting it torment you at night, while everyone else were asleep and couldn’t hear you cry.

And now, seeing him again, alive and relatively unharmed… Truthfully, you were still processing it, but even through your heavy state of shock, every fiber of your being was reeling with joy and relief. You felt a little light-headed, but in the best possible way. Feeling his muscular arms around you again, his warm embrace, looking into his piercing bluish-green eyes that shined into yours with the same undiluted love they had back in the glade… It had almost made you dizzy, and you were surprised at yourself for not having passed out - for a moment there, it felt like you might have.

You never stopped loving Gally, not for one moment. Despite having been convinced you’d never see him again, there was no force in the world strong enough to make you forget him or even begin letting him go.

Having him back filled you with a happiness you had long given up on experiencing ever again. You hadn’t felt anything close to it since the day you thought you’d lost him. The worst day of your life, your most haunting memory… No. You refused to think about it again. It didn’t matter anymore, because Gally was alive, and that’s what you needed to focus on. The light inside you, the one you thought had died with him, was flickering back to life again. It was flourishing and spreading with each passing second, as you realized you were no longer bound to imagine a future that he wouldn’t be in. The bleak and cheerless future you had laid out for yourself was rapidly dispersing before your eyes, giving way to something brighter, something much more hopeful and promising.

However, as much as you wanted to let the euphoria of having Gally by your side again consume you entirely, you knew you couldn’t. Not completely. You still had a mission, a dangerous and inordinately challenging one - rescuing Minho. You could already feel what a “fun adventure” this was going to be…

You had just met Lawrence, and although he’d initially stated that only two people were allowed to be shown the way into the city, Gally managed to bargain for three. The third one being, unsurprisingly, you. He had just got you back, and he wasn’t ready to let you out of his sight, if he had anything to say about it. Not that you minded - you had no desire to be far away from him either. You’d had more than enough of that.

“So… That’s the dead boyfriend, huh?” Brenda asked with a cheeky smile as she walked beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Gally was walking ahead, leading you all somewhere only he knew, as you were making sure to keep up.

“Yeah… That’s him.” You responded, keeping your voice down, a slightly dazed grin pulling at the corner of your lips. ‘Not dead anymore’ your heart seemed to whisper in utter excitement.

“He’s different from what I’d imagined!” Your dark-haired friend mused out loud, causing your brow to quirk upwards as you shot her a confused glance.

“Different how?”

“Just different…” Brenda shrugged, her smile widening before she lightly punched you in the arm. “But I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really. Most people don’t get a second chance like this.”

Your grin grew brighter, eyes landing on Gally’s broad back as your abdomen swarmed with butterflies. You were well aware of how minuscule the odds were of a past love ‘coming back from the dead’. Yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe, after all you and Gally had endured, you deserved that second chance.

“I know…”

Soon enough, Gally led you all into a closed-off area of the base, a rather filthy room with a large covered pothole in the middle and a ladder propped up against one of the walls. You took a moment to examine your surroundings, while the rest did the same, all exchanging equally questioning looks.

Before you could ask what this place was, you suddenly felt a large and warm hand descend onto your shoulder. There was no way for you to not know, immediately, who it belonged to. Your question died in your throat as you turned around to face him.

Gally squeezed your shoulder with as much comfort as he could manage, his bright eyes staring, deeply, into yours, making your heart leap. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell you and talk to you about, but the number of people surrounding you was preventing him from doing so. He so badly wanted to be alone with you. Even if just for a few minutes… All he could do was hope that there will be time for that later. You two had plenty to catch up on, and he couldn’t wait for a chance at it.

“You alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” He whispered, hoarsely, scanning you for any sign of even minor injury.

You breathed a slightly quivering chuckle, shaking your head and covering Gally’s hand with your own, the mere contact reminding you of the closeness you and him once shared… and will share again, now that he was back.

“I’m okay, definitely. Much better now…” You whispered in response, your eyes gleaming up at him. A small but sincere smile formed on his lips as he looked at you. He knew what you meant by that - he felt the exact same way. He had been afraid that after everything that’s happened, your feelings for him may have dimmed, or even worse, trickled away altogether. But with the way you were looking at him now, with such warmth and sheer affection, Gally felt those heartbreaking thoughts melt away. You still loved him. Just as much as he loved you. Even if only one person was genuinely happy to see him again, he couldn’t be more thankful that it was you.

Ignoring the presence of your friends, Gally pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. You bit down on your bottom lip, the sweet gesture almost bringing fresh tears to your eyes. However, the next moment, he drew back, gazing down at you “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to grab a couple things before we can go.”

You nodded, understandingly, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting go “Of course.. We’ll be right here.”

Gally delivered you one more subtle smile before leaving you and the others to look around a bit.

“By the looks of it, we’re going down the bloody sewer.” Newt assumed, eyeing the pothole with slight confusion and just a hint of disgust.

“Wouldn’t be the worst place you’ve been to so far, no?” Jorge scoffed, arms folded on his chest as he stayed close to Brenda.

Frypan chuckled, lowly, glancing at the ladder “True that…”

Although most of your friends had seemingly chosen to look away and act oblivious to your and Gally’s little exchange, one person had not.

Thomas’ dark eyes darted to you, uneasily, every muscle in his body strained and jaw clenched, tensely, as he nudged you in the side.

“Y/N… Can we talk for a second?” He all but grunted, clearing his throat.

“No.” The blatant response tumbled from your lips without hesitation, despite the calmness of your tone.

You already knew what was on his mind. You didn’t want to hear it. Thomas was a close friend and very dear to your heart, but this wasn’t something he had a say in. You knew how he felt about Gally, so naturally, the thought of you two together again did not particularly thrill him. Nonetheless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If Thomas had a problem with it, then that’s just something he would have to learn to deal with.

“Y/N…” Thomas tried again, more insistently this time “Please…”

You felt him grip your forearm, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to let you know that he needed to speak with you, now, and he wouldn’t let go until you at least attempted to hear him out.

Drawing in a heavy sigh, you shot him a sharp pointed look.

“Fine.” You muttered, curtly. You decided you would give him a chance to just get it off his chest. Nothing he’d say could possibly change your mind, regardless.

With that, Thomas briskly slipped out of the room, as you reluctantly followed him. Once you two were a few feet away from the others, you halted to a stop, not wanting to go too far.

“Can’t imagine what’s so urgent.” You huffed, quietly, your arms crossing as you stared, expectantly, at your friend. “Well? Come on, let’s hear it.”

Thomas frowned, his features painted with exasperation “Y/N, before you go running back to him-“

“I already did.” You hastily cut him off, trying to keep your expression as placid as you could. “Thomas, there’s nothing you can do. You know how I feel.”

He grimaced, his mind refusing to wrap around it. What was it about Gally? How could you so easily forget what had happened and welcome him back with open arms?

“Seriously…? After what he did?” He stared at you in disbelief, dark brown eyes narrowing.

You gritted your teeth, staring right back at him, endeavouring to suppress your own bubbling comtempt for the subject “What happened to Chuck wasn’t Gally’s fault.”

“He shot him, Y/N!”

“It was an accident, Thomas!” Your voice had risen, finally, your hands clenching into fists. You had had this exact argument with him before and you couldn’t stand hearing it for one more second. “Whether you want to admit it or not! You were there - you know exactly what happened!”

Thomas, much to your surprise, fell silent. His mouth twitched as he looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense. Yet, deep down, even though he despised the idea of conceding, a small part of him knew you weren’t entirely wrong.

You took advantage of his silence and continued. You had every intention of standing your ground on this. “Gally never would’ve hurt Chuck! He wasn’t aiming for him! And what part of “he was stung” keeps getting lost on you? Have you forgotten what that does to a person? Because I haven’t!”

“Yeah, he was stung, but he could have-“

“No, he couldn’t have!” Your hands were practically shaking by now, a lump had formed in your throat “He wasn’t himself, he had no control over what he was doing! You just want to blame him, because it’s easy!”

Thomas glowered “I don’t get it… I really don’t, what is it about him?”

“What is it about Teresa?” You countered, not missing a beat.

At that, Thomas trailed off, the familiar pang of hurt shooting through his limbs. Something that occurred every time he thought about her, since the day of her disastrous betrayal.

You huffed, knowing you had struck a nerve, but also knowing that you were right “Come on, look at me and tell me that if she showed up right now, looked at you with those big blue eyes and told you how sorry she was, how much she regretted the whole thing, you wouldn’t immediately want her back.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You would!” You noted the way Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, as well as the way his knuckles were already turning white. “You would, Thomas… You damn well know it.”

He shook his head, the inner conflict swirling prominently in his dark eyes as his tone dipped “She would have to do a lot more than apologize.”

“Yeah, but you still wouldn’t turn her away.” You retorted, firmly, your penetrating gaze not leaving him.

Silence. Heavy, deafening silence that spoke for itself.

Thomas remained unmoving, his shoulders sagging as he peered at you, solemnly. You didn’t break the agitated eye contact, merely taking a step back.

“That’s what I thought. I guess we both have our blind spots.”

The dark-haired boy looked away from your eyes, finding himself tragically at a loss for words. He hated that you were right. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he knew that even after what Teresa had done, he still cared for her. If he were to see her again… He highly doubted he would forgive her instantly, especially while WICKED still had Minho, but if she were to have a change of heart and choose to be on their side again… He knew he would have an agonizingly hard time discarding her.

You watched Thomas’ demeanor shift, his tense expression softening as he exhaled in defeat. Evidently the thought of trying to get you to keep your distance with Gally was no longer the dominant one on his mind. You took no joy in fighting with him, but Thomas needed to understand exactly where you stood, on all counts. You didn’t need his approval on this. You and Gally were together, and if Thomas, as your friend, couldn’t be happy for you, then the least he could was stay out of it.

“At least mine isn’t torturing our friend right now.” You gritted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas heard it clearly, though. His gaze shot up to meet yours once more, and you almost winced at the miserable glint in his eyes. You suddenly felt like you had just kicked a puppy. Was that a little harsh? Maybe. Was it accurate? Unfortunately, it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel bad, your compassion prevailing. You and Thomas may have had moments where you didn’t see eye to eye, but he was a good and loyal friend to you. There was no need to hit him where it hurt.

“I’m sorry…” You breathed out, giving him a forlorn, apologetic look.

Thomas only shrugged in response, eyes momentarily averting to the ground “No, you’re right. I just…” He inhaled, deeply, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his head in irritation “I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

You delivered him a soft smile, touched by his concern, even though there was no need for it. At least not in that regard “Gally is not going to hurt me.”

Your friend responded with a tight-lipped smile that read ‘I hope that’s true’, before turning away and beginning to walk back to the room the rest of your friends were in. You were about to follow him, until… you realized how badly you needed just a few minutes alone with Gally, before you, him, Thomas, and Newt would venture into the city. You didn’t know just how dangerous the path was, and you couldn’t bear the idea of something terrible happening along the way. Sure, you could be optimistic and wait until after you all got back, but… could you? Could you really? You had missed him so much, and so far you’d only managed to say a few words to each other.

Oh, screw it. You were not asking for much. You needed it, so you were going to take it.

With a quick look-around, you turned on your heels, following in the direction you thought you’d seen Gally go. Sadly, as you reached the spot where he had disappeared from your line of vision, you had no idea where to go from there.

People were bustling all around you, some reloading their rifles, others fixing their gas masks. In one of the rebels, you recognized the guy that had stood behind Lawrence, while you all were being introduced to him, earlier. You thought his name was… Jasper? Whatever. Clearly he knew Gally, so you hoped he would know where he would have gone to.

You cleared your throat, striding up to him with as much confidence as you had been able to gather “Hi! I’m sorry, do you know where Gally’s room is? Or… wherever it is that he sleeps around here?”

The rugged man looked you up and down, a strangely amused smirk curving his slightly crooked mouth. It confused you and almost made you feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make you retreat without an answer.

“You must be the girlfriend? From the maze? The one he wouldn’t shut up about finding?” He rasped, snickering under his breath.

You relaxed, inwardly, glad that you had apparently picked the right person to ask. Also, hearing that Gally had mentioned you during his time here, undoubtedly made you smile on the inside.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. So where can I find him?”

The rebel chuckled, pointing upwards to the corridor a level above that led to the more secluded parts of the base “Right up there, seventh door on the left.”

You muttered a quiet ‘Thank you’ before scurrying off, hoping you would, in fact, find him there. Soon, you made your way down the corridor, your gaze bouncing from one door to the next one. Five, six… seven.

Your heartbeat suddenly began quickening as you stared at the tattered, scratched-up door in front of you. You allowed yourself to take a deep breath before finally knocking.

“Yeah?”

You exhaled in relief, a smile instantly making its way onto your lips. Gally’s voice. He was in there.

“Gally…? It’s me. Can I come in?”

After a short pause, he replied.

“Of course. I’m just about done here.”

You pushed the door open with a slight ‘creak’, and there you were met with a sight that brought a burgeoning blush to your cheeks. Gally’s bare back was turned to you as he was changing, about to reach for a grey hoodie that was draped over an old wooden chair. You could see his toned muscles tensing, every crevice generously offered to your view, as you felt your face grow hotter. He looked even stronger than he did back in the glade, his form even more glorious than you remembered it.

You didn’t get to remain in your trance for too long though, as Gally slipped the hoodie over his head and turned around to face you, a loving grin playing at his lips.

“How’d you know where to find me?” He arched a curious brow, making his way over until he was standing right in front of you.

You smiled and took a step closer, minimising the distance between the two of you and gently taking his hand in yours. Your fingers interlocked perfectly, like puzzle pieces. “Jasper told me.”

Gally chuckled at that, eyes widening in slight surprise “You know his name?”

You shrugged “I pay attention.”

His grin widened, warmth filling his eyes as he gazed down at you, giving your hand a tight, grounding squeeze “You always have.”

Your heart raced faster as you raked your gaze over every feature of his face, each faint freckle on his cheeks, his plump lips, his vibrant eyes… You couldn’t help yourself as you threw your arms around him, Gally not wasting a second in wrapping you up in his strong embrace. He held you so fervently, so close to his body, you thought he was almost lifting you off the ground. So many emotions swirled between you two - the relief of both of you somehow having survived every hardship up until this point, the joy of having found your way back to one another, the desperate urge to never let go of each other again, the fear of somehow getting separated along the way of whatever came next. You felt a small shudder pass through your body as you clung to him for dear life, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you… Gally, I’ve missed you so much…!” You uttered on half a breath, succumbing to the compelling warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ve missed you, too, Y/N… More than anything.” He whispered so close to your ear, his arms around you tightening as he slowly rocked you from side to side, making sure you felt how much he meant it.

Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, in spite of your best attempts at keeping them at bay “I’d spent months thinking you were… Dead… I-I thought it was over, you were gone, I’d never see you again…!”

Gally released a fervid sigh, at last picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his midriff as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder “I know, baby, I know… But I’m okay, I’m right here. And you are, too…”

You stifled a sob, pressing your slightly trembling lips to his temple, basking in the feeling of his heated breath fanning your skin “I’m scared I’m gonna wake up any moment, and you won’t be there. It’s already happened too many times…”

“Won’t happen this time. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N…” He promised, lifting his head from your neck so that he could meet your glimmering eyes “I’m not gonna screw it up twice.”

You let out a quivering breath as you gazed into the eyes that reflected all the unyielding love you harbored. Every nerve in your body pulled you into Gally, every thump of your heart resonated within him as he held you in his arms. This was the feeling you thought had been lost forever to you. Something so powerful and burning that no other force could compare to it. He was the piece of your heart that had been ripped out all those months ago, the piece that was now being graciously returned to its rightful place.

With a tenderness no one else but you has ever shown him, you cupped his face in between your soft palms and leaned in, your lips pressing fully and ardently against his.

The long-overdue kiss instantly clouded Gally’s senses, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his lips reciprocated, moving against yours with enough passion and longing to make your head spin. Your legs tightened around his midsection as his left hand moved lower to grasp at your hip, endeavouring to bring you even closer, as if that was possible. Gally swallowed the soft whimper that escaped you as he kissed you deeper, all his conscious thought paralyzed by the enrapturing sensation of your lips on his. He didn’t believe anything in the world tasted sweeter. He had spent countless nights dreaming about the day he would get to do this again. And now that he had you back, just like this, so close, so yearning, so thoroughly his… he wished it would never end.

Your fingertips threaded through the short sandy strands of his hair, your body feeling weightless, almost floating. You bit back a mewl as Gally’s hand reached up to your face, his calloused fingers brushing your cheek and trailing down your neck in a feather-light caress. Every bit of your skin felt so sensitive to his touch. After a few more blissful seconds, you finally broke away from his lips, both of you panting heavily, catching your breath from the heavenly feeling of your kiss.

Gally rested his forehead against yours, his mouth still mere inches away from your own “I’m never losing you again… Never, you hear me?”

You nodded, frantically, holding onto his neck with both hands, his closeness filling you with a searing light. It exhilarated you, made you feel like you could do anything, overcome anything, as long as you two were together.

“Sounds good to me…”

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

#the maze runner #tmr gally #the death cure #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally tmr #gally x fem!reader #gally x you #gally x y/n #tmr gally imagine #gally fanfic #gally #will poulter #tmr imagine #gally the death cure

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds smut #smut

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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.

a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: arguing, swearing, angst

Prologue, One, Two, Three

masterlist || request || taglist

Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.

“What the-”

Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.

Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.

Bucky.

The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.

Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him.

All you could feel was fear.

“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.

Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.

“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”

Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.

“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”

You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.

“More than I’d like to.” You said.

Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.

“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”

Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.

“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.

“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”

“That’s what we all thought.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Two days.”

Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.

“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.

Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.

He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.

“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.

Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.

“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”

Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.

He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.

The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.

“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.

“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”

He did.

He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.

It had been eating away at him for years.

He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.

“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”

Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.

“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.

Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”

Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.

“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”

Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said

“You could say that.”

“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”

“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.

Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.

“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”

This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.

Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.

“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”

Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.

You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.

You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.

But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.

Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.

Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.

“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.

“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”

Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.

He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.

He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.

He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.

He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.

All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.

“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.

“Okay.”

As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”

Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.

“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.

You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.

“I need to say something-”

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”

“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”

Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.

“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”

“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.

“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.

“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”

Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.

“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”

Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm.

Shrugging him off, you shook your head.

“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”

He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.

Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.

Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.

Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.

Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.

Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

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Taking Chances Ch. 11: Blast from the Past (Siblings)

AO3

Swinging side by side with her father was an amazing experience. Marinette tried hard to stifle her laughter, figuring Batman wouldn’t appreciate it if word got around that the newest vigilante was a giggler. He swings to the next roof and pauses, Marinette frowning as he listens to something on his comm.

“Alright. All hands on deck. Robin, you’ll stay on the roof with Ladybird.” He instructs, Marinette frowns. Was he really sticking her younger brother on babysitting duty? And why couldn’t she go wherever it is he’s going?

“What’s happening?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“There are several crates of weapons and a few dozen armed men in a warehouse a mile out from here. You and Robin are going to stay on the roof to make sure no one leaves before the police arrive.” He instructs before turning and grappling away. Marinette frowns, but follows behind him. Does he really not think that she can handle herself? And she knows this is going to cause problems with Damian. He already doesn’t like her and now he has to stay with her. She watches as he swoops down into the warehouse and she lands silently on the roof.

“I do not appreciate this.” Robin says, stepping out of the shadows with crossed arms. Although she can’t see his eyes behind his mask, Marinette knows he’s glaring at her. She just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t either. I don’t need someone watching me 24/7. I can take care of myself.” She says, and with a sudden jolt, she realizes this is the first time he’s willingly speaking to her. The first time they’re talking and it’s to argue. Lovely.

“If you had simply stayed away, then I would have been allowed to follow Father. Instead, I am being punished for your insolence.” He adds. Is he going to lecture her the entire time Batman and the others are fighting in the warehouse, she thinks, raising an eyebrow. She starts to snark back, but a shadow moving behind him pulls her attention instead. Narrowing her eyes, she watches as a figure steps out of the shadow, a gun raised at her.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” The man asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette glances at Robin, trying to see if he recognizes the voice. She doesn’t see any recognition, so she immediately catalogues the man as an unknown threat. Chances were that he was involved with the group currently fighting in the warehouse and not an actual Batman level villain. But he still had a gun, so she wouldn’t underestimate him. Robin turns to face the man and he immediately takes the gun off Marinette, pointing it instead at Robin’s head. Marinette narrows her eyes. She may not know him very well, but he was still her little brother. And she wasn’t about to let some stupid goon threaten him. Flicking her wrist, she aims her yoyo at the man’s gun, smirking as she manages to yank it from his grasp. She catches the gun as it flies back with her yoyo, holding it carefully and trying to ignore the internal panic. She’d never held a gun before, never wanted to or had a reason to. And she really didn’t want to hold it now, but she didn’t want the man to know that she was scared of the gun, because that would give him an advantage. She just grins at the dumbfounded look on the man’s face, his shock enough so that Robin was able to knock him down without a fight. He pulls a zip tie out of his utility belt and ties the man’s hands together.

“Well that was disappointing. I was hoping for more of a fight.” Marinette teases, hoping that the tension between her and Robin would break. She watches as his lips purse slightly, not sure what the expression meant.

“I hardly think one buffoon with a gun would be much of a fight for either of us.” He finally says, and her eyes light up. Success!

“But if it was the right foe, they could surely take you down.” A new voice says, and this time Marinette can practically feel the tension rolling off of Robin.

“Slade.” He says, obviously tensing for a fight.

“Damian. I wasn’t aware you were in possession of a Miraculous.” The man, Slade, says, turning towards her. Marinette stiffens, uncomfortable by both his words and the fact that she can’t see the man’s face because of his costume.

“I’m not in possession of anything.” He says, his jaw clenched. Marinette shifts into a defensive position, desperately wishing that she had a comm. Surely the rest of the family had heard this man’s intrusion through Robin. But she wished she could hear them. Whether it was giving information about the man or reassurance that the rest of them would be there soon, she wanted to hear them.

“Tell me, little girl, how did you stumble upon one of the most powerful pieces of magic in the universe? And why haven’t I met you before?” He asks, stepping towards them. Glaring at the man, Marinette steps forward so that she’s standing in line with Robin, unwilling to cower behind her brother.

“I don’t think we run in the same circles. And I assure you, I didn’t stumble across anything. I was chosen to wield this Miraculous.” She says, shoving false confidence in her tone when all she wanted was to grab Robin and run. Slade oozed a sense of wrongness and danger. Not a combination she wanted anywhere near her or her family.

“Mmm. Perhaps not. But we’ll never know, will we. I’m going to have to ask you for that Miraculous now, dear.” He says, her eyes narrow.

“I’m not sure if that’s worked for you in the past, but it’s not going to work today. You’re not the first creep in a mask asking for my Miraculous.” She snarks, hand twitching as she analyzes him and tries to come up with a plan. Without any warning, he lunges towards them, a sword suddenly in his grasp. Marinette jumps back, going on the defense as Robin lunges forward with his own katana. Marinette flits around both of them, throwing her yoyo at Slade every time he got too close to Robin. It was obvious the man was well trained, and it was also obvious that he had little patience for the two.

“You’ve improved, but you’re still not good enough.” He hisses, lunging towards Robin, his sword aimed at the boy’s chest. Marinette lunges towards them, shoving Robin out of the way. She shrieks in pain as Slade slides his sword into her shoulder. She can’t see the man’s face, but she can just imagine his smirk. He puts his other hand on his sword, and she just knows he’s going to twist. She can’t let that happen. So instead, she jerks back, screaming as she pulls herself off the sword. Robin launches himself at Slade once again, furiously slashing at the man. Slade lifts his sword up and Marinette flicks out her yoyo, grunting in pain as she irritates her shoulder. But she’s able to wrap her yoyo around the man’s wrist. Smirking, she tugs roughly, pulling the man off balance enough so that Robin can disarm him. Just as she lets her shoulders relax, Slade yanks his arm, tugging her to him. She yelps in pain as he wraps her into a chokehold. Staring at Robin, she tries not to panic. They’re gonna come for them, right? The rest of her family? Surely they’ve beaten those goons by now. They definitely heard the problem on the roof through Robin’s comm, right?

“Unhand her.” Robin says, shifting his position now that he has two swords.

“I don’t think I will. Not for free, anyway. You want her alive for some reason.” Slade says, tightening his hold. Marinette lets out a choked breath, desperately trying to pull in enough oxygen.

“What do you want?” Robin asks, Marinette tries to shake her head, already guessing what the man wants. She’d rather die than give some psycho the power of Tikki. Not only could he destroy the world, but Paris would also be lost without the Miraculous Cure.

“Her earrings. Let me take them, and I’ll let her live….this time.” He says.

“No….don’t...not..worth it.” Marinette manages to say, just barely able to shake her head. She gags as Slade tightens his grip again, black spots dotting her vision.

“Ladybird-” Robin says, and Marinette is certain she’s hallucinating now. Because he almost sounds pained.

“Don’t.” She begs, fighting to stay conscious. As she watches him, she sees a smirk make its way onto his face. That’s good. Good. Smirking brother means….what does it mean? She’s not sure. All she knows is that suddenly, the pressure on her neck is gone. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath and wincing at the burning in her shoulder. Too much. Too much all at once. A hand on her good shoulder shakes her from her thoughts and she weakly hits at it.

“Ladybird, it’s me.” A voice says. She blinks, opening her eyes, wincing at the pain enveloping her. Looking closer at the figure, she sighs in relief, letting herself slump down. She’s safe. Arms pick her up gently and she smiles softly, tiredness hitting her as the adrenaline finally fades. Curling in closer, she mumbles into Batman’s chest.

“Thanks dad.”

---

Bruce Wayne was pissed. And the only person who could piss him off so much was himself. He’d left Damian and Marinette on the roof alone because he thought they’d be safer. He didn’t think the two would be able to get into any trouble up there. Of course he would be wrong. Of course Slade Wilson would choose tonight to come after Damian. And of course the man just had to know about the Miraculous.

Hearing his daughter’s pained screams over his son’s comm would haunt his nightmares. It’d likely become the unholy symphony over the images of Jason’s broken body and Damian’s limp form. Images that’d haunted him for years and would continue to do so until he dies. When he was young, his nightmares were just of his parents. But he had seen things much worse since becoming a father. And now he’d heard much worse. Shaking his head, he tries hard to hold onto the one bright part of the evening.

Marinette had called him dad.

It was the first time she’d called him anything other than ‘Mr. Wayne’. His heart warmed at the thought, but everything came crashing down again when he remembered. Slade Wilson was gone. He’d managed to get away while his focus was on Marinette’s wellbeing. Which means his daughter was now in even more danger. Damian had informed him of the man’s obsession with the Miraculous. It was something they’d need to talk about, but not tonight. After she passed out in his arms, he brought her back to the manor. Alfred stitched her shoulder, and Bruce brought her to her room. It wasn’t decorated yet, but he’d made sure to pick out a room for her after finding out about her. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with them after this, she’d always have a room here.

Sighing, Bruce sticks his head into Marinette’s room, just to reassure himself that she was there. That she was safe. It was something he did with each of his kids, every time they were injured. Every time he was afraid that he would lose them. The sight in front of him makes him pause and pull out his phone to take a picture. They might be mad at him for it later, but he’d curse himself forever if he let this moment slip away. All of his children were piled in Marinette’s room. The girl herself was on the bed, curled into a ball despite her injured shoulder. At the foot of her bed was Damian, his face peaceful for once. Jason, Dick and Tim were all in a pile on the floor, pillows and blankets scattered both beneath them and on top of them. They were an impossibly tangled pile of limbs, guarding their youngest sister. He smiles softly, eyes finally falling on Cass curled up in an armchair that she must’ve pulled next to Marinette’s bed. Satisfied that all were well, Bruce shuts the door gently, not wanting to risk waking any of them.

His children were together, and safe. For now.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @imarivers8

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years ago

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holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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venusluvrr · 4 years ago

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The Psychological Horror Manhwa “Killing Stalking” is not a Romance, but an Emotional Series Depicting the Codependent Relationship Between Two Ill Individuals

Content Warning!!: contains mentions of sexual abuse (rape) and mental illness.

Killing Stalking is an immensely twisted webcomic series, mainly popular within the Yaoi community for its boy on boy focused plotline. The story follows characters Yoon Bum (Bum), a shy, scrawny young man with a haunting past filled with abuse, and Oh Sangwoo (Sangwoo), a younger man who also has a quite damaging upbringing but masks it perfectly with his vibrant, extroverted personality. After being saved from a rape attempt during his time serving in the military, Bum develops a crush on his saviour, Sangwoo, from which an unhealthy obsession starts to arise and he eventually finds himself locating and breaking into the man’s home one day when he’s out. When he does, he discovers a terribly injured woman being held captive in his basement, and with further evidence, soon comes to the realization that his crush is actually a serial killer -- hence the name “Killing Stalking,” as Sangwoo kills and Bum stalks. For a very specific reason though, Sangwoo decides not to kill the man that had been stalking him, and instead holds him hostage in his custody. From here, the story goes into exceeding depth of the abnormal, toxic, and manipulative relationship the two form during their time spent together. By just the mere description of it, it’s a bit concerning to know that a large portion of readers still support Sangwoo and Bum’s relationship. In other words, they believe they truly loved each other and that the story was not only horror fiction but a romance as well. One could easily come to this conclusion by basing their relationship on the few parts within the novel where they showed affection towards each other -- for example when Bum allows Sangwoo to hug him to sleep when he suffered through the night, or my personal favourite, when Sangwoo buys Bum a stuffed frog keychain after finding out that he had an affinity for such creatures. But we cannot simply dismiss the underlying factors of their relationship because of some cute things they did that made our heart melt -- Sangwoo still abused Bum at his leisure which makes those moments quite meaningless in the sense of it all. What Sangwoo and Yoonbum shared can’t be classified as “love,” because even with their peculiar bond and endearing moments, the psychological damage they both endured played a bigger part in the way they perceived each other.

Many toxic relationships start out lovely and glamorous until the couple have become comfortable enough to start revealing some bad habits, but in Sangwoo and Bum’s case, they were already off to a bad start, as the reason they remained with each other was solely for reasons pertaining to their poor mental health.

At the time Sangwoo saved Bum in the military, Bum still suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) -- a disorder he inferrably developed due to the fact that he grew up being constantly physically and sexually abused by the people around him. People with this illness may easily develop an infatuation for a person who shows them even the least bit of care; It can reach the point where they begin to idolize them and see them almost as a perfect human being -- which is exactly how Bum viewed Sangwoo after he helped him to escape a rape attempt. The likely specific term for what Sangwoo was to Bum is a Favourite Person (FP). To an individual suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder, their FP is everything -- their self-worth, identity and emotional dependency all rely on this one person, making them the center of their lives. In contrast to this sincere fondness, the only reason Sangwoo kept Bum alive was because of the man’s resemblance to his late mother -- the one person in his life who he truly loved. While his father was abusive and negligent, his mother tried her best to care for her son even while her own mental stability wasn’t so great either. Even though it was implied that he was responsible for the murder of both his mother and father in high school -- getting away with it scotch-free because of how perfectly executed his plan was -- he still shared a special bond with the woman, allowing her existence follow and continue to torutue him mentally as he grew older. When he saw Yoonbum, he felt as if she had been somewhat resurrected, or at least he could pretend so by dressing him up in his mother’s clothes and making him cook and do the chores; He also played the husband role by abusing and assaulting Bum just as his father did to his mother -- mostly just out of his own nature. Sangwoo had his own issues, “mommy issues,” and he initially needed to keep Bum alive so he could fulfill his own longing desires. Knowing the man’s character though, things wouldn’t end there and instead headed down a very gruesome and frightful path.

The very reasons that the two were drawn to each other we’re even more evident the longer they lived under the same roof. While Yoonbum continued to recall the perfect image he had of Sangwoo in his head, Sangwoo continued to manipulate the man in order to satisfy his own needs. A healthy relationship cannot be based on deceit, because one person will end up victimized instead of loved.

Oh Sangwoo is a sadistic sociopath with a history of kidnapping, abusing, raping and torturing innocent people, and because of his illness, he shows feels and shows no remorse for his actions and even proceeds to kill off his victims as they pleaded in objection. What some people don’t understand is that when Sangwoo met Bum, the only reason he treated him differently was not because he thought of him as special, but because he had a personal agenda that included making Bum think that was the truth and that he was indeed the favoured victim among many. It’s no surprise with the man’s manipulative personality that he would enjoy planting a lie in Bum’s head to make him stay and continue to do as he says, and this is confirmed whenever he returned back to his old destructive habits even after showing the man acts of affection. Yes, Sangwoo spared Bum’s life, clothed him and fed him, but as their bond grew, his narcissistic attitude was still more apparent than ever.

Upon meeting Bum for the first time, Sangwoo didn’t hesitate to aggressively break his ankles to prevent his mobility, he left the man within the dark confinement of his basement for a certain period of time before letting him out only after he had gained his trust. He made him sit in a chair to wash dishes and make dinner because he could no longer stand. Sangwoo also constantly dragged Bum down with derogatory words and statements every chance he could get, this included calling him a “retard,” and referring to him as a “disgusting” and “filthy” human being. As confirmed by the author, Sangwoo is also heterosexual, which is further proved by the homophobic remarks he made towards a significantly older man who was sexually attracted to him while murdering him with Bum’s aid. This fact alone is another one that should justify a strong point that demonstrates the true hostility of their relationship -- Yoonbum never gave his consent to have sex with Sangwoo, nor did he allow it to happen because “he wanted it.” He specifically used phrases such as, “No,” “Stop,” and “It hurts,” implying that sometimes there was no mutual agreement when they had sex and Sangwoo had actually raped him several times.

People with Borderline Personality Disorder have been reported to have difficulties seeing the faults in their partner -- this explains why Bum still held on to him. He chose to stay when he had the chance to escape, and with tears rolling down his face from excruciating pain he still told Sangwoo he loved him. In a scene where Bum is left alone with the police as they investigate the suspicions they have surrounding him, he questions them saying, “Could you kiss somebody like me? Could you love somebody like me?” As he believes nobody but Sangwoo could answer yes to those two questions, convinced that Sangwoo really does have feelings for him. It’s saddening to know that the poor man had successfully been lured into a trap, and because of his mental health it would be much harder for him to realize it.

To the readers that think, “Sangwoo and Yoonbum needed each other,” -- You’re not completely wrong. They did need each other in the way that they found somewhat of a saneness from each other’s presence, each using one another to each other’s benefit. But being together at the same time built on their insanity, as the presence of Sangwoo’s mother seemed to grow even more prevalent with Bum, who resembled her, also in the picture, and Yoonbum growing so unhealthily attached to Sangwoo that he constantly feared of abandonment and turned the sociopath into the only source of his happiness. They needed each other, but not for the right reasons. They were attached to each other, but there was no love, otherwise it would reflect throughout the story. One of the most debate-worthy scenes that challenge this fact is when Sangwoo is reported by an old lady in the hospital, the one that had ended his life, that he was calling out Bum’s name throughout the night as he lay in his deathbed. Those were his final words, and Yoonbum’s final word was also Sangwoo’s name before he was very well implied to have been hit by a car while he chased an illusion of the man he “loved.” Even I almost felt that this was solid proof that even through the tough and terrible of their relationship, deep inside, the two really were in love but could not express it in the right way due to their mental health issues -- after all, what someone makes of their final moments before death is much more meaningful than most of what they've done in their life entirely. But I came to realize that the only way I could support this relationship would be if they had met in an alternate universe where they did not suffer from such dreadful childhood trauma that made them into the hurting individual they had become before meeting each other. As difficult as it is for me to picture the two with different partners, it would be best if the two had not met at all as they only fed into the severity of their conditions.

#killing stalking #sangwoo #yoonbum #yaoi #horror #manhwa

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uh-oh-howd-i-get-here · 4 years ago

Text

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #mcu #x reader #x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #reader insert #mcu imagine #marvel universe #the avengers

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