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dirtyvulture · 2 years ago

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Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Lawyer!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by @dinolandsworld: ok here i am!! i'm exposing myself a lot here but this is actually a fantasy of mine and the law jargin story added a lot to it ... basically having reader fucking natasha senseless in an actual courtroom.

maybe reader is prepping for a trial and yk how they get the courtroom to practice before it and nat shows up and once again gets turned on because of the words reader is using and because how hot she looks in a suit .. and yeah. just nat getting bended over the witness stand with reader fucking her from behind

that would be kind of it

Word count: 1337

AN: Looks like y’all couldn’t get enough of Part 1, so here’s a little more to keep the sinners fed. 😘

Repost because Tumblr is a hoe.

“The defense would like to bring Ms. Johnson to the stand at this time,” you say, trying your best not to look down at your notes. Your partner, Jennifer, sits behind the podium, playing the role of Ms. Johnson.

“Ms. Johnson, can you confirm that you were walking on the sidewalk of 7th Avenue on the night of July 30, 2022?” you ask.

“I was,” Jennifer says.

“Could you see the two defendants sitting on the front porch of the house?”

“Yes.”

“And were you present when the gunshots were fired?” you ask.

“Yes, because I heard them and saw the muzzle flash,” Jennifer answers.

“Could you see who fired the gun?”

“No, but I know a gun was fired from that porch.” Jennifer was going off the police report with Ms. Johnson’s witness statement. This cross-examination was the only way to extract information that wasn’t recorded in the official report–and also point out its flaws.

“But you don’t know who shot it?” You hadn’t intended for it to sound like a question, but you couldn’t take it back and Jennifer jumped on your mistake.

“Objection,” Jennifer says, now taking on the role of the opposing counsel and the judge. “Asked and answered, Y/N.”

“Right.” You’re grateful she doesn’t steamroll you and cause you to lose your rhythm, but you gracefully move into the next question without much pause. “After the gun was fired…”

***********************************************************************

Natasha strides through the courthouse, searching for Department 103. This is not her element, and she feels like a foreigner wandering the halls. People in full suits–whom she assumes must be attorneys–walk by, and she secretly hopes you’re wearing one, too, even though you were just here for court preparation.

After consulting a faded directory on the wall, she finds the correct courtroom. She pushes open the door slightly, hearing your voice and your partner’s.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Natasha hears you say and she feels a jolt go right down her core. “There is a lack of foundation for that evidence because the opposing counsel did not properly admit it.”

Natasha had spent the last few weeks watching all the law shows she could get her hands on, but she still doesn’t understand a word you say.

“Wait, really?” Jennifer breaks character to ask you.

“You didn’t ask the right questions,” you say.

“I didn’t?”

“No, remember you have to have the witness testify about the evidence. Then you have to ask the court to admit it. It’s a step-by-step process.”

Natasha wants to swoon when she hears you educating your partner about court rules.

“Ok, that makes sense, thank you.” Jennifer collects her notes into a briefcase. “You’ll be okay for tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a few minutes. Just need to go over some last-minute arguments,” you reply.

“Need any help?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Natasha backs away from the door and waits until your partner exits before popping up.

“Oh, hey, Natasha,” Jennifer says. “Y/N will be right out.”

“Thanks.” Natasha practically runs into the courtroom. “Hi, baby!” she calls out.

“Nat! What are you doing here?” You’re in the middle of clipping your briefcase closed when you turn around and see her. Today, you’re wearing a white button-shirt whose buttons look like they’re going to pop off if you flex too hard, paired with black suspenders. Natasha wipes her chin as she walks up to you.

“I thought we could grab dinner together,” she says, grabbing onto one of the suspenders and dragging you down to her level. She takes extra caution to kiss you lightly on the lips when all she wants is for you to take her right here in the courtroom. “I heard a little bit of what you and Jennifer were talking about. I still couldn’t understand any of it, but it was…” She bites her lip while looking up at you.

You chuckle, no longer surprised at how much work talk turns on your girlfriend. The last few times you were in bed with her, she had made you recite your entire thesis.

“You want me to put you on the stand?” you ask, your voice lowering.

Her eyes widen.

“And what if, instead of cross-examining you, I fuck you?”

Natasha looks at your crotch, where she suddenly notices how much it’s bulged out.

“Just in case.” You wink at her.

Natasha squeals as you pick her up easily and carry her to the podium to the right of the judge’s chair (maybe you could use that another time). You kick the chair out of the way, setting her on the desk and brushing her hair aside so you can kiss her neck. Natasha throws her head back and moans, her hands clinging onto your broad shoulders and raking down your back.

“The defense would like to call Ms. Natasha Romanoff to the stand,” you whisper into her ear, feeling her shudder against you. “Do you know why you’re here today, Ms. Romanoff?”

“Because…Because…” Natasha is already a mess and you haven’t even touched her yet.

“Because you were fucked by the defendant?” Your hand forces its way up Natasha’s shirt and gropes her breast. She pants against your neck, her nails digging harder into your back. “Answer the question, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Yes, yes, I was,” she begs.

You pick her up off the desk and turn her around, bending her forward until her stomach is flat against the wood surface. Her skirt rides up and you see she isn’t wearing panties. You lick your lips in anticipation.

“The defendant’s counsel would like to introduce Exhibit A to the jury,” you say, keeping one hand on Natasha’s butt and the other pulling down your pants so your strap has room to pop out.

Natasha keens when she feels the toy brush against her center and pushes back instinctively. You thrust your hips forward and bury the strap inside of her without warning. Natasha squirms underneath but you keep her pinned down, your muscular thighs pressed to the backs of hers and you don’t move so she can adjust to the size.

“Ms. Romanoff, is this the same strap the defendant fucked you with?” you ask, barely able to control your own breathing now.

Natasha feels so full, her walls massaging the strap and she clenches uncontrollably around it. “Yes, it is,” she answers, her voice strained.

“And how exactly did the defendant fuck you?”

“Hard and rough,” Natasha says, hoping to get her point across.

“Like this?” Your fingers tighten around her hips and you start hammering your hips like an animal.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Natasha screams at a volume that makes you momentarily concerned someone outside will hear. She goes limp across the witness stand as you pound into her tightness, grunting and growling with each of your thrusts.

You never thought you would take your girlfriend like this, in an actual courtroom on an actual witness stand, and you won’t take the opportunity for granted. The strap is angled upwards to hit your own clit with every thrust, and the stimulation is enough to keep you in line with Natasha’s pending orgasm.

“Did the defendant let you cum?” you ask, keeping your rough pace, although your thrusts become more uneven and sloppy.

“Yes,” Natasha squeaks.

“Did you want to cum today?”

“Please let me,” she practically sobs.

“The court will allow it,” you respond, giving her one more deep thrust and feeling her walls tighten around your strap. Your body goes rigid as your own orgasm washes over you, and when your legs finally stop trembling you rest a little of your weight on Natasha’s back and stroke your fingers through her hair softly.

“You okay, baby?” you whisper, stroking the back of her head.

“Perfect,” she sighs.

“Good.” You gently pull her off the witness stand and push her down onto her knees, your slick strap bobbing in front of her flushed face. “How about we try introducing Exhibit B to the court now?”

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AN: Hee hee. 😈

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #request

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citrineghost · 3 years ago

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Avoiding Scams on Freelancing Sites

Hi there! I almost just got scammed today, and I’m going to take the LITTANY of red flags from this interaction and use it to teach you all about how to avoid scams.

I am not making very much money right now. I just lost one of the accounts I was writing for, so I am not not even making enough to pay my rent. So I am desperately looking for work. And, like many people desperately looking for work, my panicking subconscious is willing to see a red flag and brush it under the rug because

“I’m probably being paranoid.”

So, to all of my lovely artists, writers, editors, and other types of freelancers who are desperately looking for work, I would like to create a comprehensive list of things that you should NOT FUCKING IGNORE while looking for a job. Actually, the list will be formatted as things you should expect from your employer/interviewer and if these things are missing, get the fuck out of there.

1. Reputable Platforms

The first thing you should be expecting is to use reputable platforms. If you’re being asked for a virtual interview, you should expect your interviewer to invite you via Skype, Discord, (Maybe slack if they’re middle-aged), perhaps Whatsapp, or whatever website you’re using to find your job.

DO NOT go for interviews on Telegram. This app has been reported as very commonly being associated with scams. This is where my recent experience took place.

2. Willingness to Verify Legitimacy

The first thing you should do when being in contact with an interviewer or HR is ask them to verify their identity.

This may not be necessary if doing a video call with someone pictured on an official company website, receiving emails or texts from addresses/numbers that are listed on an official company website, or if the job you’re being interviewed for was applied to directly on the company website. In these cases, you are not likely to be scammed, as you’re working with verifiably information.

If you meet someone on Indeed, Fiverr, Upwork, or any other freelancing/job site, keep your contact within the website’s chat system, email system, or whatever. This is how you remain protected under the hiring site’s TOS/Legal whatever. If you get scammed because you took your hiring process elsewhere, they will not help you.

That being said, if you DO take your interview off the site, it should be somewhere reputable and you should ask for your interviewer to verify their identity before doing literally anything else. The best way to get them to verify their identity is to ask them to email or text you from an address or phone number listed clearly on the official company website, by asking them to show you their state ID and checking it for photoshop influence, or by asking to do a video call for the interview and seeing for yourself that you’re being interviewed by someone who is pictured on the official company website as an employee.

3. Clear and Professional Procedures

Any professional working as an interviewer or human resources personnel will have a skillset related to communication and organization. When being interviewed you should expect a number of questions about your skills and how you’re valuable to the company, etc. However, this is easy to fake, as a scammer. What you need to look out for is that they show a clear amount of structure.

If you’re asked for an interview, no real company will demand you be quick about responding. If they’re interested in an interview, a legitimate company is not likely to ask you to do the interview immediately. They will ask you to schedule an interview time with them. They may ask if you have availabilities that day, but they will not just start interviewing you immediately.

After the interview, any professional company will tell you that they will get back to you when they’ve made a decision about your interview. No professional company will tell you to wait for an indefinite amount of time while they talk to HR peers. If a company Does want you to wait, because they intend to make a quick decision, they will give you an expected wait time, as that is the courteous and professional thing to do. They will not expect you to be on-call for this period of time. A time projection is simply to give you an idea of what to expect. For example, “I’ll be in touch within the next 1-3 hours about the results of your interview. Thank you for your time.”

Furthermore, if you are accepted for a job, any professional company will make a clear outline of exactly how they plan to introduce you into company life. They will respect your time and ask you to schedule things with them. For example, “Is there a period of 2-3 hours within the next few days where you would be available for an orientation?”

No professional company will demand you do anything at any particular time. That is not how legitimate professionals treat new employees. You will be asked to schedule things with them. Even when you’re assigned work hours, if the exact hours you’re applying for are not listed in the job description you applied for, they will ask you to fill out some kind of time sheet to outline your availabilities, then schedule you for times within that outline.

4. Doesn’t Show Signs of Money Scamming

There are two major red flags when it comes to money scams. Your interviewer should never ask you what bank you use and your interviewer should never ever tell you they’re going to send you a check, unless they send your paycheck as a check.

One of the more common scams at the moment is run by people pretending to be members of legitimate companies, hiring freelancers for things like proofreading and editing. These remote positions may require home office hardware, right? The interviewer will tell you you’re missing some hardware and software that are required for the job. Then they’ll tell you that they will send a check that you can cash and use to buy the required materials.

This is even sketchier if they email you front and back images of the check and tell you to print it and then deposit it through mobile banking. The way this works is that, if you cash the check successfully, you will then buy the list of software, which is usually completely unrelated to the job you’re being hired for, then they will cancel the check, which hasn’t cleared completely. That leaves you with ~$2k dollars less in your bank and their money right back where it started in theirs. Presumably, the scammers are the ones selling the software. So, that $2k dollars you just spent is also going into their bank account.

Professional companies will never offer to send you checks to buy products. If they have official hardware or software that they want you to use, they will buy it themselves and then send it to you. There is never a reason why a new hire should buy hardware or software out of their own bank, whether they have been given money for it or not.

Furthermore, a legitimate company will never ever pay you before you have signed and sent your contract to them. One of the obvious giveaways of the scam I was almost caught in was that I was sent the contract last night and I asked if I could send it in today, since it was getting late. The interviewer agreed. I signed it in the morning and then asked him if I should send it in a reply to the email I got the original contract from or if there’s another email I need to send it to. He completely ignored my question, asked me how I was doing, and then went into the check-related information so I could buy software.

The issue was bothering me ALL DAY. I knew there was something extremely weird about that, so I asked again a few hours later. His response? “You have nothing to worry about.” ?????? I was aghast. I wasn’t worried at all! I just wanted an answer! If he had simply told me to respond to the email I’d gotten the contract from, I might have fallen for his scam! What a terrible scammer smdh

A Non-Exhaustive List of Other Red Flags

Your interviewer shows a poor grasp on the language

If your interviewer is making frequent grammatical errors that are glaringly obvious to any native speaker, that is a huge red flag. HR reps and interviewers are hired because of their communication skills. It is highly unlikely that someone who makes non-native-like errors is legitimate unless they are actually openly non-native, in which case, it’s not so alarming.

Your interviewer is showing impatience or demanding you at certain times

If your interviewer is telling you to “report back by 8am tomorrow” without any kind of prior agreement that this is an acceptable time for you to meet, that is extremely unprofessional and shows a lack of patience. Scammers want to get to the meat of their scam quickly and will use an air of professional superiority and authority to scare you into moving faster than necessary.

Your interviewer shows a lack of opening and closing statements

Along the lines of the clear processes that I mentioned above anybody who is initiating you in the job you’re taking should show clear opening and closing statements. What I mean by this is: professionals in human resources or management positions will not keep you as a social hostage. If you’ve been discussing how you’ll begin training or somesuch, they will not just leave you hanging. You should have a dedicated time slot where you will have your discussion and, at the end of it, your supervisor should make a closing statement. For example, “It looks like our time is running out for today. What would be a good time to pick this up tomorrow?”

If you feel like you are “on-call” and unable to leave the room because the interviewer or supervisor keeps messaging, has not outlined a time slot for you to talk in, won’t seem to let you go, or shows no indication of stopping, that is a really bad sign. Either the company is legitimate and TERRIBLE at professionalism (a great sign you should run anyway), or this is a scammer intent on getting you to follow their instructions as soon as they can.

Your interviewer ignores time zones or gets them wrong

When I was contacted about doing an interview yesterday, it was 4:30pm. I did the interview and was told I got the job. Immediately after, without asking if I was free, he began listing off instructions and things I was to expect. It wasn’t until 7:30pm that he sent me the contract and asked me to review it, sign it, and send it back that I finally asked if I could do that tomorrow. The interviewer was supposedly on the west coast and knew that I was on the east coast. He agreed by saying “Alright” and then told me to report to him “by 8am your time.”

There are 3 things about this that are weird. The first is that he demanded I show up at 8am to continue where we left off. Any professional would have asked when I’m available the next day to continue. the second is that he said “your time” instead of saying EST, as most professionals in the US would be apt to do. And, lastly, I showed up at 7:50am, ready to continue, because I’m that desperate that I’m willing to be pushed around, and he showed up at 9am on the dot. He had gotten the time wrong. Nobody who works professionally on the west coast is incapable of adding 3 hours to their time. It was a rookie mistake, or a mistake made by someone in a completely different time zone than they say they are.

When asked to verify their identity, your interviewer attempts to reassure you or refuses

When I finally was fed up and knew this must be a scam, I politely asked my interviewer to verify his identity by either showing me his US ID or by contacting me from his email or phone number listed on the official company website. He sent me a photoshopped nametag with a completely different person’s name and photo on it and said it was the company ID of the HR director.

I have never seen a facade fall so pathetically. Why would literally any even remotely legitimate person do such a thing? It was sad, really. He deleted the message in less than a minute - no doubt to keep me from looking at it long enough to see how badly it was photoshopped - and then aggressively reassured me that the company meant me no harm and would pay for everything, etc. Any real professional would have simply sent me an email from the legitimate address, stating that they’re legitimate, and then continued on with the initiation process.

Learn from My Mistakes

I hope some of this was helpful for all of you lovely freelancers trying to find work. I thought I would know a scam when I saw one, and I did have a Bad Feeling about this whole thing, because it did feel too good to be true, but I was desperate enough that my judgement was heavily clouded, and that could happen to anyone.

Don’t ignore red flags - especially these ones. Stick up for yourself. Avoid confirmation bias. I looked things up repeatedly to confirm that the company was legitimate and that it’s normal to do things like mobile deposit a printed check and so on. Every time, I found an explanation that suited me. I even tried to cash the check. The only reason it didn’t work was because there was an error with the name on the check because I recently legally changed my name and PayPal was having some kind of issue updating in some areas of its website. It was after that that I realized this was all crashing down and I needed to reassess it all. Don’t let yourself get that deep into it.

#job hunting #job #interview #hiring #scams #advice #psa #important #upwork #freelancing #writing #writeblr #editing #ghostpost

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wicked-mind · 4 years ago

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Find Me

Summary: Bucky finds his peace with Sam in Louisiana after dealing with the Flag Smashers. But when nightmares of a woman he can’t remember start haunting him, he has to find the reason why.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Maybe some swearing somewhere? Sad Bucky at some parts. Spoilers if you haven’t seen the movies.

Note: I’m, like, super proud of this one for some reason? I hope you all enjoy it (:

All Writings Masterlist

Italics for memories/dreams

As always, any likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! (: I love that shit.

*gifs not mine

The bunker hallway was ice cold, so cold he could see his own warm breath when he breathed. It felt like he had been walking down this hallway for hours, unable to find a way out. Once in a while he would hear a soft voice call his first name, James. It was a woman’s voice whispering in desperation for him. “Where are you?!” Bucky called through the hallway, “I can help you, just tell me where you are!” With no response, he continues his strides down the endless hallway. Every step he took closer to the end of the hallway that held a large metal door at the end it seemed like it shifted further and further away from him.

“You have to find me, James.” The voice whispered to him, her voice echoing through the hallway even though it was only a whisper, “Please find me.”

“I’m trying!” Bucky yelled out in frustration, turning his strides into a quick run. He ran as fast as he could towards the door at the end of the hallway but with every step he took towards the door, the further it shifted away from his grasp. He suddenly froze, feeling another presence around him. No, behind him. Before he could turn he felt two hands on the side of his temples from behind and sudden flashes ripped through his memory of his time with Hydra. Except everything and everybody was blurry except for a woman who stood back from the crowd, watching him with sad eyes, “Who are you?!” Bucky yelled, unable to move where he stood to look at who was causing these images through his head with their touch.

“Find me.” The voice said once more.

Bucky shot straight up from the couch, breathing hard from the nightmare. A few weeks after sorting things through with the Flag Smashers, these nightmares had started. Though they were different than just his usual nightmares. He never hurt anybody as the Winter Soldier in these nightmares, just saw the same hallway with the same metal door and the same voice whispering, pleading with him to find her. It was like now that everything was okay in his life again, something in his memory was trying to tell him something. Something about this woman he had to find. He took a few more deep breaths, calming himself down before making his way to Sam’s bathroom, splashing some water on his face to clean up the beaded sweat that covered his face and neck. He lifted his head to look in the mirror and for a moment he swore he saw the woman’s face in the mirror, making him jump. He turned quickly to see nothing there but the shower curtain. He ran his flesh hand over his face slowly. He would blame this on his lack of sleep from the nightmares.

Sam was in the yard, practicing throwing the shield he now could officially call his. He kept bouncing it around the trees before catching it, working on new ways to throw for offensive and defensive situations. He caught the shield as he saw Bucky making his way over to him with that tired, grumpy confused look on his face, “Another nightmare, tin-man?”

Bucky shrugs slightly at Sam’s question before stopping to stand next to him, “They’re getting worse. I saw the face to the voice this time. It’s a woman that was there during my time as the Winter Soldier. She keeps telling me to find her.” He sighs deeply, “I don’t know what all this means.” He said, taking the shield from Sam and throwing it at one of the trees set up with a mat before Sam caught it on its way back.

Sam hurled the shield at the tree, watching Bucky catch it with ease after it hit the bumper and flew back towards them, “And you don’t remember who she is at all?” He asked with an eyebrow raised. They always did better talking to each other when they trained otherwise it was usually just teasing or bickering but when they trained together it was different. They would talk about real things. Things friends would confide in each other.

Bucky shook his head, his brow furrowing, “I don’t remember who she is. But the way she looked at me in the dream… It feels like I know her.” He said, looking at Sam, “What if I do know her and she’s waiting for me to find her?”

Sam took the shield from Bucky, “Well you know what they say: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. So you better find her because the last woman we pissed off tried to end us all.” He said before throwing the shield at a tree without one of the mats as a bumper, causing it to embed itself into the trunk, “Now I know you aren’t much of an artist, but if you can manage to sketch up her face we can try having Torres run it through their system. Maybe give you some clues onto who your mystery woman could be.”

“James.” The voice whispered right in his ear as he stood in the long hallway. Although it was just a dream or nightmare, it felt like more. Like these reoccurring dreams or nightmares had been planted in his mind by whoever he was supposed to find. It was like their way of communicating, “What?!” Bucky yelled, his arms swinging up into the air in frustration, “What do you want with me?! Who even are you?!”

It was silent for a moment before the voice came back, “I need you to find me. You promised.” The voice whispered into his ear, causing him to turn but saw nobody there except the metal wall. He turned back and faced the door at the end of the hallway he could never reach, “I don’t even remember a promise or who you are!” He grumbled out which apparently earned a small chuckle from the voice that whispered in his ear in the empty hallway, “Find me and I’ll show you everything.”

Bucky looks around the hallway slowly, “Alright. I’ll find you. But can you at least give me a hint on where to find you?” He asks softly, watching for any type of movement or hints the voice may give him.

“The last time we saw each other was 2014.” The voice whispers to him before he felt a soft touch to his temples again but nobody was there, the hallway changing to him looking at himself as the Winter Soldier in a chair, talking to Alexander Pierce. This was the moment that Bucky had started to remember Steve after failing to eliminate him and Natasha. Before they brainwashed him again. It was heartbreaking for Bucky to watch himself look so confused and lost, like an abused animal at the hands of Hydra, “Why are you showing me this?” Bucky asks softly, his voice shaking at the memory.

“This was the last time I saw you. This was the last place we spoke before they brainwashed you again.” The voice whispered, “I never left.”

Sam watched Bucky zip up his black backpack and swing it over his shoulders, folding his own arms across his chest, “You think they have her at the bank where you were kept?” He questions, watching Bucky grab all the belongings he would need to head back to Washington D.C.

Bucky nods with a huff, “Yeah. She showed me a memory after I was sent as the Winter Soldier to attack you three on the bridge. She was there at the bank. She says she’s still there.” Bucky responded.

Sam nods slowly, processing the information before looking at Bucky, “I’ll go with you in case you need some sort of back up.”

The two made their way to Washington D.C. When it was Sam’s turn to drive, Bucky folded his arms and leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep wondering what the woman in his dreams would show him this time.

“We’re coming for you.” Bucky said into the empty hallway, not even attempting to go for the door at the end of the hallway. He had done that enough times to know he would never reach it and it would just get further away. There was no response from the voice for his statement. Bucky sighs and looks and the floor before looking around him slowly, “Can you at least tell me something about you? I don’t know who you are…”

Suddenly a little girl appeared in front of Bucky, flickering into existence. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but those eyes were the same ones that stared at him sadly from the previous vision she had showed him. Bucky looked at her, his brow furrowing slightly at the sight of the young girl, “Is this you?”

“This is what I looked like the first time we met.” The girl said to him softly, “I was sixteen.”

Bucky took a few steps towards her but just like the door, every step he took she just got further away so he froze in his spot, “Why would Hydra want a young girl?” He questioned. In all of his memories of Hydra, there were never any kids.

“We met in 1951 before you were sent to aid Soviet forces in the Korean War. You met another super soldier there and came back without your metal arm.” The girl told him, her eyes flickering to his vibranium hand for a moment before back to him, “After that, when you were unfrozen with no missions, you were tasked with protecting me.”

Bucky tilts his head at her. She knew things. Things he never told anybody except Sam recently, “How do you know this? Why would Hydra keep you around?”

“They kept me around because I knew things. They called me a psychic or a seer.” The girl responded, “When my powers peaked…” She paused, her body changing into an older version of herself, “They kept be frozen with you until I was needed to tell them how your missions would go.”

Bucky watched her body change but he still didn’t recognize her and he wondered why. He had searched his mind for years, thinking he got back every memory but he couldn’t remember her, “Why don’t I remember you?”

“Because both of us decided it was better for you to not remember me until everything was okay again.”

Bucky opened his mouth to ask another question but everything faded in his dream to black, the last thing he saw was the woman turning and walking back towards the door.

“Buck! Wake up, man.” Sam said, nudging Bucky’s shoulder with his hand, “We’re here.”

Bucky opened his eyes to look up at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank which had been used by Pierce to house the Winter Soldier until he was needed. He swallowed hard at the sight of it. The last time he was here was after he pulled Steve from the river after taking out the Hellicarriers. He had come to kill the remaining Hydra scientists but let one live, not wanting more blood on his hands before he began a life on the run. He got out of the car silently, Sam on his heels as he walked into the bank. He made his way to vault where he was kept, remembering how he questioned Alexander Pierce on who the man on the bridge was, saying he knew him before getting his memory wiped again.

Sam looked around, all the Hydra technology had been taken and it was just an empty vault now, “You sure this is where she said she was?” He asks, looking around at the walls lined with small lockboxes. Some were opened but others were still locked shut.

Bucky nodded, looking over to Sam, “Yeah..” He replied, his fists clenching at the memories. This was the last place he wanted to be.

“I don’t suppose she told you where…” Sam said, walking around the vault and trying to find any hints.

“Nope.” Bucky said, moving around the room also to take in everything. On every wall the lockboxes were open. Except one section in a corner of the room, the lockboxes were shut and didn’t have any keyholes. Bucky tilted his head at them slightly before throwing a punch with his vibranium arm and just as he suspected, it was a false wall. He pried the wall apart with his strength until he was looking down the hallway from his dreams with the large metal door at the end, “That’s the door from my dreams.”

Sam walked over to look down the hallway, “Alright. Let’s go get your mystery woman.” He said, following behind Bucky down the long hallway.

Bucky felt as though the closer he got to the door it would get further away like in his dream, but that wasn’t the case. He crossed the hallway and put his hand on the handle to the metal door, sighing in relief slightly that it was real and he wasn’t going crazy or stuck in one of his dreams. He looked at Sam who nodded saying he was ready for whatever was on the other side before pulling it open. The two entered the room, looking around before their eyes fell on the cryostasis chamber. It was similar to the one Bucky had been placed in with Hydra. It was all steel with a small window and through the window, Bucky could see the face of the woman from his dreams looking like she was sleeping but ice covered her face and hair, “She’s here.” Bucky said softly. She was older, different from the teenager he saw in his dreams.

Sam came up beside Bucky to look inside at the woman, “So she’s been frozen here since 2014 and nobody has known?” Bucky looks at Sam and nods, “Yeah. Seems like she was an even more well-kept secret than the Winter Soldier was.” He said before backing away and going to the control panel. He hit the edge of it with his hand until the screen flickered on, pressing all the correct buttons to release the woman from the cryostasis chamber. They watched the ice around her slowly melt before the door popped open slightly. Bucky moved to open the door, catching the woman’s body in his arms and gently laid her down on the floor. Both Sam and Bucky kneeled down beside her, waiting for her to wake up.

The woman’s eyes blinked open after a moment, her eyes scanning the ceiling first before looking at Sam with a confused look. Then her eyes laid on Bucky. Her hands quickly came up and her palms touched either side of his face, her eyes turning white as she touched him before she drops her hands and closed her eyes again, passing out.

Sam watched the ordeal with wide eyes, “What did she just do? Buck?” He asks, backing away a little from the now unconscious woman.

Bucky breathed deeply, looking at the unconscious woman before back to Sam, “She showed me a past memory I didn’t know I had. It was her telling me everything was going to be okay before Pierce had my memory wiped again. Telling me that you and Steve would help me.” He said, partly confused. Why didn’t he remember that until she touched him?

Sam’s eyes flickered between the two confused, “As much as I would like to know the whole story right now, we should probably get out of here. This building is condemned and I don’t think the government would be happy with us poking around an old Hydra base.”

Bucky nodded in agreement and gently lifted the woman in his arms, following Sam out to the car and gently laying her in the backseat before they headed back to the safety of Louisiana. The two had a conversation as to whether it was safe to bring her back to Sam’s home but Bucky told him that he felt as though they could trust her. She had helped him before so why would she be hostile towards him now. The whole car ride, Bucky and Sam kept checking the backseat to make sure she was still asleep which she was. She hadn’t moved an inch. When they got back to Sam’s, Bucky gently lifted her from the backseat again and into the house, laying her on the couch before sitting on the coffee table waiting for her to wake up.

Sam and Sarah were having a conversation in the kitchen about how Sam always managed to pick up strays but Sarah was a good host and a kind heart. She started cooking up some dinner when Sam told her the mystery woman had been frozen since 2014, figuring she would probably be hungry when she woke up.

Bucky looked up from the floor when he noticed the woman’s fingers twitch, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyes opened slowly, no longer white and back to their original color. She did the same thing as when she woke up from the cryostasis chamber, looking at the ceiling before looking over at Bucky. She slowly sat up, rubbing her hand along the side of her head as if she had a headache, “You found me…” She breathed out.

Bucky nodded, watching her closely. Sam and Sarah had gone outside with AJ and Cass when she started to stir awake just for safety in case they were met with hostility from her. He watched her sit up before passing her a glass of water, “You have a name?”

The woman took the water, drinking the full glass before passing it back to him and meeting his gaze, “Y/N.” She told him.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, trying to recognize any piece of her but couldn’t besides what was in his dreams, “Why did I have to find you and why don’t I remember you?” He questioned sternly, still unsure of Y/N.

Y/N kept her eyes on his, her hands gripping the edge of the couch, “You promised you would find me.” She responded in a soft voice, “It was safer for the both of us if you didn’t remember me until the time came where you were at peace.”

“How did you make it so I didn’t remember you?” Bucky questioned, wanting answers for the months he had been having the dreams of the hallway and her whispers.

“I’m a psychic… At least that’s what Hydra liked to call me. They used me to see the future of your missions as the Winter Soldier, making sure they would be successful. They used me to help create Project Insight.” Y/N responded with an even voice, “What they didn’t know is I could show you your past after you were brainwashed. Leaving little notes in there in hopes you’d remember who you were one day, able to escape Hydra. I saw your future after they sent you to eliminate Captain America and the redhead. I knew you’d remember your friend and from there you’d be able to become free.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly, “You can see the future and the past?”

Y/N nodded slowly, “Only if I touch you. There were times where they wouldn’t freeze you and had you protect me in the facilities. They were worried someone would take me for their own gain within Hydra. Those moments we had alone I would touch you and help you remember who you were before you became the Winter Soldier. We were friends, believe it or not.” She told him, “I can show you if you’d like.”

Bucky nodded after a moment. The only way he could believe her was to see for himself.

At the nod, Y/N shifted forward slightly on the couch towards him. She slowly lifted both of her hands and placed them on his cheeks, her eyes turning white as she started to show him memories she had sealed away in his mind.

Everybody was speaking Russian in the memory. There was a tall man who was barking orders at Y/N to search Bucky’s future as the Winter Soldier.

“I will! I can’t concentrate with you watching me. Give me some privacy.” Y/N snapped back in Russian at them. She wasn’t thirteen in this memory but older, maybe around twenty one. Once the guards had left her alone with the Winter Soldier, she turned towards him. He was staring at her with emotionless, cold eyes. Y/N bit her lip and lifts her hands to touch his face but paused for a moment, “I’m sorry they’re doing this to you, Bucky.” She whispered to him in english which earned a head tilt of confusion from the Winter Soldier, “Right… You don’t remember me… Here.” She said and presses her hands to his cheeks, her eyes turning white as she flooded his brain with memories of his past self.

The Winter Soldier’s gaze softened as he saw the memories and when she pulled her hands away, he lifted one hand to catch hers, “Y/N…” He whispered out to her in english.

Y/N smiled slightly and nodded, “Hello again, Bucky.” She said softly to him.

Bucky leans his head back and closes his eyes, “Where are they sending me now?” He asks, his voice cracking as the memories of all he’s done as the Winter Soldier flooded his mind but also grateful that he could remember who he was. James Buchanan Barnes.

Y/N bit her lip softly, “I’m not sure… They’re sending you to retrieve some super soldier serum I think.” She gently stroked her thumb over the back of his flesh hand.

Bucky looked at her with wide eyes, shaking his head, “No… We can’t let them do that. There can’t be more like me.” He told her, gripping her hand tighter in his.

Y/N sighs softly, “I know. I’ve already seen the future of it. It’ll be okay… There won’t be more Winter Soldiers that make it to the light of day but you have to complete this mission. It’s part of the path to get you away from Hydra.”

Bucky scanned over her face with sad eyes, “What about you? You need to get away too…”

Y/N smiled sadly at him, “My time won’t come for a long time, Bucky. But you’ll find me one day when everything is as it should be.”

“No.. We should just get out of here now… I can protect you.” Bucky said, leaning closer to her and staring into her eyes. She was his saving grace, the only kind person he had known since he had been taken by Hydra. The angel on his shoulder that kept him from falling into complete oblivion in his mind. She always brought back his memory whenever they were alone and he was beyond grateful to have her with him.

Y/N shook her head at him, “I can’t. There’s things in the future that are still a little fuzzy… depending on what path certain people decide to go down.” She told him, “One day you’ll get me out of here. But first we have to focus on making sure I keep you going down the right path towards your peace.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from Bucky’s face, making the memory fade away from their minds. She watched Bucky closely for his reaction, biting her bottom lip.

Bucky breathed deeply as the memory flooded his mind. It was like it had just been unlocked and he knew every movement he had made as well as Y/N, all the feelings he felt. He looked at her slowly, “Y/N.” He said, “You would bring me back to myself, help me. Then you’d lock the memories away so they wouldn’t catch on… I remember you.”

Y/N nodded towards him with a small smile, “Yeah… I would show you everything but it may overload your brain giving you back all those memories at once.” She told him, “But I can keep showing you little bits.” Bucky nodded instantly toward her, grabbing her hands and placing them on his cheeks, “Please… I need to see… Remember you.” He whispered out to her in a pleading voice.

Y/N smiles at him before her eyes turned white, showing him another memory.

“I killed them…” Bucky whispers out to Y/N as they sat alone in a room. It was December 18th, 1991.

Y/N gave him a sad smile, lifting a hand to stroke along his cheek gently, “I’m sorry, Bucky… It wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.” It was the same thing she told him every time he came back from a mission and restored his memories.

Bucky shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes, “I don’t know how much more I can take, Y/N… I don’t want to be this person anymore…”

Y/N bit her lip, keeping her hand on his cheek and gently stroking the tears that fell from his face, “I know… It’s not too much longer. Everything is getting clearer and you’ll have your peace soon. You’ll be Bucky again.”

Bucky looked at her, leaning forward and grabbing her free hand that wasn’t on his cheek, “You promise?”

Y/N nodded towards him with a small encouraging smile, “I promise. Your story as the Winter Soldier will come to an end. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know…” Bucky breathed out, looking down from her eye contact before looking back up to meet her eye line, “Y/N, you’re…. I don’t know how I could get through this without you… You always bring me back, remind me this isn’t my fault." Y/N sighs softly, “Because it isn’t your fault, Bucky. There is no blood on your hands. Only the hands of Hydra and what they make you do as the Winter Soldier.” She reminded.

Bucky nods slowly, squeezing her hand in his, “You know… Under different circumstances where we both weren’t prisoners and forced to do awful things… I think we would’ve been good friends.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at him slightly, “I think we are already best friends, Bucky.” She told him with a small smile, “We are the only friends each other has right now.”

Bucky smiles slightly at her before dropping his gaze again, “I want to ask you something, Y/N…” He began, “You can say no if you want…”

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, “Ask away, Bucky.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment before looking up to meet her eyes, staring at them intently. They were eyes he had learned to love, they were his life line in moments like this, “It’s been god knows how long since I’ve felt some sort of comfort… some sort of… love.” He said, watching her closely for any reaction, “Will you…”

“Kiss you?” Y/N asks, which Bucky looked at her a little shocked before remembering she can see the future. She stood from her chair she was seated in, moving closer slowly and leans forward, keeping her eyes on his before pressing her lips gently to his, her hand gently stroking his cheek while her other stayed in his hand.

Bucky moved his free hand up to behind her neck, pulling her closer and kissing her again before pulling away and scanning his eyes over her features as he didn’t want to forget this moment or her face. His eyes suddenly saddened as he heard someone coming from outside the room, “Someone’s coming, doll… You have to make me forget…”

Y/N smiled gently and strokes her fingers along his face, “It’s okay, Bucky. You’ll remember one day…” She said before her eyes turned white and she locked away the memories of him as Bucky and returned him to the Winter Soldier.

Bucky looked at her as the memory ended, tears stinging his blue eyes as they formed. He stood up, running his hand through his dark hair before looking back to her where she was sitting and watching him closely, “I…” He started but couldn’t finish. He moved to sit beside her, “Show me the last memory of you.”

Y/N nodded and once again placed her hands on his face, her eyes fading to white again.

Bucky was in the Ideal Federal Savings Bank. Glimpses of his past being found by Zola after he fell from the train… the metal arm that replaced his one left arm seared through his memory. He sat there as one of the scientist restored his arm before he punched him away, frustrated at the memories that were returning. He stayed seated in the machine used to put him through his mind treatments, strip away his memory. He looked up when Alexander Pierce came in, taking a seat on a stool next to him.

“Mission Report.” Pierce demanded.

Bucky sat there, staring blankly ahead as Pierce repeated the demand before backhanding him across the face. Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusing a little as he turned to look at Pierce, “The man on the bridge… Who was he?”

Pierce stared at Bucky, “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”

Bucky looked away from Pierce as he tried to piece together what happened, “I knew him.” He said softly, his eyes wondering over to meet Y/N’s for a moment who was looking at him with her head tilted as she listened before his gaze returned to Pierce.

“Your work has been a gift to mankind.” Pierce told him, “You shaped the century. And I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. And tomorrow morning we’re gonna give it a push. But if you can’t do your part, I can’t do mine.” He paused, watching Bucky look away in confusion, “And Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.”

Bucky tilts his head and looks back towards Pierce, “But I knew him.” He repeated, his lips pressing together in a line at the pain of trying to put his reality together- his memories together.

Pierce sighs before standing, “Prep him.”

One of the scientist look at Pierce, “He’s been out of Cyro too long…” Pierce looked back at Bucky who was staring off sadly, “Then wipe him and start over.” He told the scientist before turning his attention to Y/N, “You do your thing first.”

Y/N stepped forward, looking at Bucky then to Pierce, “I’ll need the room. There’s too much going on in here… I’ll get confused.”

Pierce narrowed his eyes at her then nodded, “Give her the room.” He said, walking out of the vault followed by everybody else in the room.

Y/N went to sit on the stool beside Bucky, watching him look at her sadly, “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She told him but he stayed silent. She slowly placed her hands on his face, her eyes going white as she restored his memories of the past, “Don’t talk..” She whispers only audible enough for Bucky to hear her, “The time has come, Bucky… They’re going to wipe your memory one last time… You’ll be okay, I promise… This is the beginning of the end for the Winter Soldier and Hydra… I’m going to seal your memories of me until the right time… then find me, okay?”

Bucky watched her carefully, listening to every word she said. He blinked at her slowly to tell her he understood, trying to contain his emotions in this moment.

Y/N smiled slightly at him, “Don’t worry… I’ll be okay.” She whispers to him, “We’ll see each other again someday and I’ll show you everything you’ve forgotten about us.”

Bucky moved his metal hand ever so slightly to touch her thigh and squeezed it gently with a saddened look in his eyes, being careful as to not let the guards outside the open door see. He had so much he wanted to say to her: Thank you… I’ll save you… I’ll find you… I think I love you. But he couldn’t say those things.

Y/N gave him a knowing smile before it faded away, her eyes going white as she sealed the memories of herself with him deep inside his mind until the right time came for him to find her. She then searched his future for what was going to happen next, seeing him fight Captain America but recognizing him at the last moment and saving him from the river. Bucky was going to be okay. He would be himself again one day, not the Winter Soldier and then he would find her when he found his peace. She stood up and stepped away from him, looking at the Winter Soldier who still had those sad eyes. Y/N turns to Pierce as he came back in, “Everything will go according to plan.” She lied, “Project Insight will be successful.”

Pierce nodded then motioned for one of the guards to take her back to Cyro, freeze her until she was needed again. She took one last look at Bucky as they put the mouthguard in his mouth before starting the memory wipe, listening to him scream through the mouthpiece until she couldn’t hear him anymore and was thrown into the cryostasis chamber where she would wait to be saved by him.

As the memory faded, Bucky looked at her, reaching up his own hand to touch her cheek. He remembered all the feelings he had for her. He was grateful, thankful for her always bringing him back. Assuring him everything would be okay and that he would have peace in the future. His blue eyes scanned over her features, taking in the face that he had forgotten. The face that saved him. She was like an angel that had always been perched on his shoulder, watching over him, “Thank you… For everything you did for me.” He told her softly, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to find you, to save you.”

Y/N smiles slightly, “Don’t worry about it. I knew exactly what was going to happen. I’m glad you’ve found your peace, Bucky.” She said softly.

“Why didn’t you let me come find you before now?” He asks softly.

“I couldn’t. I saw everything that was going to happen to you. Zemo… Thanos… The Flag Smashers..” She whispers, “If I was around for that, I would’ve just been used as another pawn for them to get their way. You couldn’t find me until there was peace.”

Bucky nods slowly, keeping his hand on her cheek, “There were things I didn’t tell you, that I couldn’t tell you the last time we saw each other.” He told her, “All our time together… All the times you reminded me who I was and saved me… I think I fell in love with you.”

Y/N smiles slightly, reaching a hand up to place it on top of his on her cheek, “I knew all of that too, Bucky. You didn’t need to say it. I knew from the way you kissed me that one time. The way you looked at me the last time we were together.”

“I would like to do that again… Now that you don’t have to make me forget.” Bucky says to her, leaning towards her slightly, “All those things I felt for you… I still do. I just needed to remember.”

Y/N nods towards him, “I still feel all those things for you too.” She whispers out as she watched him lean closer and closer to her, her eyes locked on his, “We have a very bright future together, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky smiles at her, “You would know, doll.” He whispers before pressing his lips gently to her’s, smiling against her lips as she kissed him back. He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her face closer to his while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. Bucky had waited for this moment most of his long life and hadn’t even realized it until he found her again.

___________________________________________________________

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keijislove · 4 years ago

Text

One sickle: Tom Riddle X Reader

“Professor?” you knocked on your headmaster’s door, “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah, miss L/N, come in.” the voice of Armando Dippet beckoned hazily, as if his mind was elsewhere, which it undoubtedly was.

“Er, yes sir.” You walked inside, taking a seat.

“Miss L/N...” he began, “I am so sorry I have to ask of you for this, I am aware that you haven’t done this before.”

“What exactly, professor?” you were confused.

“As you know that due to the unfortunate circumstances involving Myrtle Elizabeth Warren of your house, Ravenclaw tower shall be searched tonight by her family members and a few Ministry officials, and I, being the headmaster of the most prestigious wizarding school that there is... I must appoint two prefects each for the corridors of Hogwarts... I have appointed a Slytherin prefect alongside you for the forbidden corridor on the third floor.”

“But sir, why would that place require patrolling?” you asked in a bit of a panicky state. “The bathroom is off-limits, Warren just died there!”

“I am aware, Miss L/N.” he waved off, “And I am also aware that you are one of the most promising pupils I have the delight of teaching.”

You flushed.

“And do not worry, your companion is not less by any means,” he assured, “You may leave, your duty begins in an hour.”

“Thank you, sir.” You muttered, struggling to keep your voice even.

An hour passed in no time and soon, you were hurrying off towards the corridor on the third floor.

You caught sight of your companion already present there, his back to you, crisp uniform with hands behind his back and everything.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who he was, even from behind. The mysterious, dangerous, frightening, irritatingly handsome prefect of Slytherin house – Tom freaking Riddle.

“Ah-hem.” You cleared your throat.

Dammit Y/N, you can’t even clear your throat without stuttering

His head swung around as if he knew you were there.

“Uhm, good evening.” You began at the lack of response from the dark-haired boy.

“Good evening.” He replied, surprised that you were willing to make conversation with him when most people just hurried past.

“Nasty business.” You remarked, “Warren, I mean.”

“Yes. Particularly nasty indeed.” His expression was not polite or welcoming. Instead, he stared at you with a calculating look.

You shrugged slightly, “Bit unexpected, that’s all. A murder at Hogwarts, I mean.”

“Yes, let’s hope Hagrid keeps his monstrous pets away from the school, then.” He rolled his eyes.

“He did strike me as odd.” You muttered, “I didn’t know it would be this bad. Still, it’s more concerning what the fate of Hogwarts will be than Warren’s death.”

“What do you mean?” Tom suddenly asked.

“All I’m saying is... deaths and accidents happen everyday.” You explained, “Warren was just an unlucky victim of one. I’m just.... worried. I hope they don’t close the school, I can’t go back to my adopted family.... it’s positively awful.”

“Is that so?” Tom was beginning to talk in a more relaxed manner.

“I’m afraid it is.” You shrugged, “Call me cold-blooded or whatever.”

“How are you not in Slytherin?” he demanded, “You would’ve done well.”

“The hat did consider it.” You explained, “But instead I’m in-”

“Ravenclaw.” He answered for you, “You’re in my Arithmancy class?”

“Oh.” You flushed, knowing he noticed, “Y-yeah, I am.”

“Alright miss Slytherclaw. We’re supposed to be on duty. We’ve been chatting here for ten minutes.” He said in a light teasing tone.

Now you really turned beetroot.

-----------

There were no more words exchanged between you as you stalked around the corridor, and you sank into your daydreaming.

And it had to be the stupidly attractive face of the prefect next to you.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” Tom asked, as politely as he could.

You smirked, “My thoughts cost a lot more than that, Riddle.”

“A sickle for an insight, then.” He insisted.

You sighed. “I’m thinking about... someone.”

“Who?”

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that.” You scoffed.

“You are really bad at hiding things.” He remarked.

“How so?”

“You just made it pretty bloody obvious whom you were thinking about.” He smirked. “Like what you see?”

“Hey look, I can’t help it, okay?” you said in exasperation, “I don’t even like you like that, I just appreciate that you’re... attractive a notch above normal.”

“That’s a compliment anyway.” He huffed, “It’s alright, you’ve got hormones. I get it. You don’t have to like someone to appreciate their looks.”

“Thank you.” You spoke.

You had begun to get more confident. You glanced at your watch.

“Argh, dammit. It’s past time.” You groaned, “Well, see you later.... Tom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he spoke.

You turned to leave, but he called behind you, “By the way, we’ve got to patrol this month!”

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

Life was getting simply outrageous for you – you were failing Divination and History of Magic because you weren’t able to get your work done on time, having to stay up all night patrolling that stupid corridor.

Not that you didn’t enjoy Tom’s company, though. Two consecutive weeks of knowing each other and you were already talking as if you’d known each other for years. He just understood you in a very, very weird. It wasn’t al sunshine and rainbows though. You already didn’t have any friends and now you were labelled as the weirdo who hangs with Riddle.

Tom’s company was more than satisfactory however, and you were fine with having one friend who understood you than several who didn’t.

You were finishing up your Arithmancy project alongside your partner, Olive Hornby, when a certain Slytherin decided to approach you.

“A sickle for your time?” Tom asked, but it was not as jokingly as his statement a few weeks prior.

“I would say my time costed a lot more than that, but I can see this is serious.” You spoke. “Yeah?”

“I need to talk to you.” He explained.

“Privately.” He added, looking at Olive in disgust as she battered her eyelashes.

You scoffed, getting up and dragging him out the classroom with you.

When you reached a decently secluded spot, you spoke, “Yes?”

“I want you to answer this very truthfully.” He began.

“Can’t make no promises.”

He ignored your statement. “Are we friends?”

“Huh?” you asked in confusion, “Of course, why-”

“No, no, no.” he messed up his usually neat hair, “I meant... if you found out something about me.... would we still be friends?”

“Like what?” you questioned, wondering where this was from.

“Like... maybe if I’m dangerous?” he whispered quietly.

You snorted slightly, “Tom, that’s not how friendships work. Everybody has their secret to keep, and they’re 100% entitled to it. I wouldn’t ditch you just because of something you did.”

“Are you so sure you will stick to that when you find out what I’ve got to say?” he quietly asked.

“I- it can’t be that bad, I- I will.” You stuttered, slightly afraid.

“Okay.” He finally spoke, “Alright, fine. C’mon.”

He led you to the corridor where you’d been patrolling.

“What are we-” you began.

“SSH!” he hissed, dragging you inside the girls’ washroom.

“This place is of limits!” you hissed.

“I’m aware!” he hissed back.

You scoffed.

Tom led you to a worn-out and broken sink before crouching down.

“Please mean what you say from this point on.” He whispered.

“O-okay.” You said, genuinely frightened now.

“Open. I command you.” Tom hissed at the tap.

“Does it really open?” you asked, as Tom’s head snapped your way so fast, you thought you heard a crack.

Not speaking, looking at you with wide eyes, he pushed you in before climbing himself.

You let out a soft shriek as you fell into an entrance of sorts.

“Wh-wha-” you spoke.

“This.” Tom spoke. “Is the Chamber of Secrets.”

“What?” you shrieked, “No way. No way, no way, no way! Get me out of here! We’re going to die.”

“Relax, Y/N.” Tom rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be fine. Also, why didn’t you tell me you were a Parselmouth?”

You flushed, “I didn’t think it was of significance. Anyway, what are we doing here?”

“Be careful not to speak in Parseltongue.” Tom warned, “You’ll wake it.”

“Wake what?”

“The Basilisk.” He said simply.

“What- a basilisk?!” you sputtered, “Tom, what the heck? First the chamber and now a basilisk? This stuff is dangerous and-”

“I thought you said we all had a secret to hide.” He muttered.

“Oh well, yes, but I’m saying this because I care about you!” you explained, “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all-”

“Well then don’t!” he yelled, “Don’t care about me. Don’t attach yourself to me!”

“Why not?”

“BECAUSE I’M A MONSTER, ALRIGHT?” he yelled angrily, “IT WAS ME! I KILLED MYRTLE WARREN! I OPENED THE CHAMBER!”

“Wh-what?” you asked.

“BELIEVE IT OR NOT Y/N-”

“Tom.” You hoarsely whispered.

“WHAT?”

“Did you say, um, something about a basilisk?” you asked. “Because I think it’s awake.”

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

Both of you panted heavily, emerging from the Chamber and collapsing on the bathroom floor.

There were tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, especially in front of him.

“There you go.” Tom angrily snapped, “I’m a complete monster. I already killed Warren, and I nearly killed you. Go on. Tell me how awful I am. Tell me you hate me.”

“I don’t.” you whispered, “I don’t hate you. I.... I’ll still stick with you. Look, I don’t know what happened to you, Tom, but I can tell you’re... hurting. I hope I can help with that.”

You saw his nostrils flare as if he was contemplating something.

Your lips were glistening from a mixture of water and tears, making you look gorgeous.

“A sickle for a kiss?” Tom shakily asked.

“My kiss costs a LOT more than that, Riddle.”

“Ten galleons then if you want.” Tom said before closing the gap between you.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x yn

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

we don't talk together | myg

pairing: min yoongi x oc

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, growth! exes that remain exes

words: 2, 842

summary: it's hard to say it's over

What they don't tell you about goodbyes is that it isn't the end.

It's far from the closing of a book. Goodbyes are the itch that urges you to pick up an old book from the shelf just to feel what you first felt when you re-read certain parts of a book; the same remorse you felt when a character you grew attached to didn't get the ending they deserved. Or, maybe it was the villain that was misunderstood—your own heart wishing to reach out to the sad soul that couldn't even be recognised when all they do is speak.

But some books will end up dusty, forgotten, tucked away in the corner of your shelf; or in the most drastic of cases: lost.

"The park looks ... different," Yoongi speaks up for a lack of a better conversation starter.

You hum. What would you say? That it wasn't the same from when we used to spend our Spring's blended into Summer's until it got too hot for us to lay in each other's embrace?

It was still too fresh even though it's been nearly a year.

"There are more dogs," You point out the moment a tan pomeranian runs past the two of you, the owner an old couple laughing away under the cherry blossoms.

He nods, fingers stuffed in his trench coat. You note that it's the same one he wore on your anniversary, plans abandoned when there was a mix-up with the reservations until the two of you stumbled across a hidden gem that soon became your go-to date place.

You will yourself to look away so no more memories can resurface. It seems like every part of your life has somehow seamlessly intertwined itself with traces of Yoongi that it was impossible for you to exist as just yourself.

"How are things at the firm?" He asks after the two of you walked side-by-side in complete silence as more and more chatter fill your ears.

"It's ... going," You chuckle dryly.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you, shooting you a brief glance over until the two of you reach a bench. You dare say it's muscle memory that dragged your heavy feet into the direction of the only bench that you've known in the park. The compressed reminder of the initials of your names that you carved as teenagers likely still staining the years old wood. It was meant to be an emblem for wisdom, the ring of growth that meant to be the endgame for the two of you.

You almost laugh in bitterness and how literal the metaphor was.

"Everything okay?"

Yoongi takes the first step to sit on the bench because he always did. Ever the gentlemen when he opened doors for you, let you into the car first, waited until you stepped ahead of him to trail behind like a shield.

The first date, first kiss, first confession.

The first one to decide that it was over.

"My boss is just being sexist, as usual. I thought I'd get used to it after spending two years there but ... there are some things that you just stay unfamiliar, you know?"

It was very like you to speak in double-entendres without intending to. But it was also like Yoongi to pick up on it, especially after years of learning all the best and worst parts of you; he was and probably will be one of the few people in your lives that will always foresee your next move.

The two of you sit a fair distance apart on the bench even if it was a battle for space anyway. You didn't have the liberty to lean into his embrace anymore and he wasn't in the position to say that it was okay for you to breathe, to relax.

"You shouldn't get used to those remarks. There are times where you learn to grow used to constructive criticism but if what he's saying makes you question your worth because of very arbitrary reasons like your gender then that isn't criticism, nor is it constructive. It's bigoted and chauvinistic."

You look down to your thumbs as you fiddle with it, his words comforting you. It was woeful that you still chased validation from him even after learning to be that person to yourself.

"Yeah, I guess."

Then how did you get used to things?

If time didn't make things familiar then what did? Was it not the five years with Yoongi that led you to see him build an empire for himself all the while destroying the relationship that you had? Or was it because he was the person that you thought of doing the most minuscule things?

"By the way," He clears his throat, eyes still set forward, "Namjoon says hi."

You raise an eyebrow, surprised to hear the name of a mutual friend—or more appropriately, friend by association and acquaintance when that link was broken.

"He knows that you're with me?"

Yoongi nods his head.

"I needed to let someone at the studio know and ... well, he's the only one that knew of our situation."

You chuckle bitterly.

Of course. The suggestion of his work only made your heart drop because as much as you wanted to be supportive of him, even after the break-up, the name of his studio or songs only reminded you of the battle that you helplessly lost.

"You can tell him that I'm still a text or phone call away. No need to play messenger," You return.

The atmosphere is more reflective than awkward. You know that the two of you had your pieces to say, your own narrative to tell but neither brave enough to break the calm that you were settled in. It was a nice difference from the way that things ended, and you supposed that you were similar enough to believe in a mirage than the inevitable truth.

But you didn't call him out after six months to sit in silence to walk away with your heart feeling heavier, nor did you invite him out just to remember what it feels like to have him next to you—even in complete silence.

"Would you have really quit?"

This time, you gather all the bravery that you've built over the past few months to ask the question that has been mulling in your mind since the night you decided that it was officially over.

It was a painful break-up. Even if you expected it when Yoongi came home earlier one night with bags under his eyes and his keys that he usually left at the studio because he knew you'd always be home to open the door for him.

"I'm sorry?" He seems taken aback.

You don't blame him. You've always been more passive in dealing with confrontation due to your conflict-averse nature—but that didn't mean you didn't get angry or annoyed—or hurt. But if you learned anything, it was to stop asking yourself questions that you'll never have the answer to.

"Would you really have left the company to save our relationship?"

You chose your words carefully. Instead of saying to be with you, knowing that he lost the love, he had for you somewhere along the way—you point out the one hole that he held on to for the sake of stability. The one thing that was constant in his life with how unpredictable the music industry was.

"Yes."

Somehow, the answer doesn't make you feel better because even with time apart you knew he was lying to save your face.

"You don't owe me anything to lie to my face, Yoongi." You frown.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his hands across his face as he leaves your statement hanging in the air to mull over his answer.

You prefer the silence that way. It showed that he was at least listening, or cared enough to decide his next set of words. Nothing like how much it pained you to acknowledge the responses you got from him when you were crying were just out of obligation than sincerity.

"No, I wouldn't have."

You nod your head, expectant of the answer but you needed to hear him say it himself rather than drowning yourself in ruminating thoughts of how there was still a semblance of hope that he would've given it up for you, for your relationship—or the life that you were meant to build.

"I wouldn't have asked you to, anyway." You confess.

Yoongi turns his head to look at you and for the first time since you've met at the park, he notices the absence of a necklace around your neck. The necklace that you never took off. He wants to comment on it, ask where it went or if you've pawned it off out of pettiness but he held no remorse towards you. You were tolerant with the break-up even as you sucked in your tears when he knew that it killed you on the inside. Yoongi didn't have the heart in him to ask you.

"Oh."

"You were the one that said you'd quit so we could stay together," You say softly.

Yoongi doesn't respond as he looks back to the night where the two of you sat down to talk about the standing of your relationship. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that started off with an amicable discussion that eventually led to the two of you yelling until you surrendered to your tears and just left the battle completely.

He said a lot of things that night. From things that he's been bottling up for months, to things that he's always wanted to tell you and things that he didn't remotely mean, and things that he's regretted the moment it left his lips.

"I guess I did."

You sigh, leaning back into the bench as you observe a couple walking in front of you, passing your bench as they share an ice cream on a cone; bickering on who'd get the first lick. To anyone, you and Yoongi would've looked just like a couple that has reached a comfortable point in your relationship where intimacy was just sitting next to one another.

But you admit, there was something oddly intimate and heart-breaking about sitting next to someone you've loved with your whole heart and feel nothing but ... weightlessness. Like the burden of your concerns was lifted ever so slightly just being here.

"I wouldn't have made you choose between your relationship or your dream, Yoongi. I would never have done that to you."

Yoongi knew you would never have made him do something as abhorrent as that. You were far too understanding. But you had wanted from him too, that he wasn't willing to provide just yet. He didn't know if it was because of the expiration date to your relationship or because of the stress he was under at work—but he convinced himself that it was you that was asking for too much instead of him compromising too little.

"I ... I know," He whispers, "I'm sorry."

You purse your lips. You try not to let your emotions appear on your sleeve. You were tired of allowing your face to speak before you did. You needed to use the voice you had.

"I loved you so much, Yoongi," You murmur, "I loved you so much that I would have taken anything I could've gotten with you just so I could be with you."

Yoongi stays silent at this.

"I didn't mind if you spent more time at work than at our home. I just wanted to know if I was ever in the picture when you were talking about the future. I know how much you love music and I supported you through every audition and failure ... and to know that I was just—" You swallow, the words still painful to say. But you needed to make your peace with it, "—that I was just someone that would wait for you instead of your partner. That's when I knew that you didn't love me the way I loved you."

Yoongi chokes to speak up but you shake your head.

"No, Yoongi. You loved me, you did. But somewhere along the way you stopped and you just pretended that we were okay even when I was trying my best to fix the seams. I wasn't your girlfriend anymore, I was just someone familiar to you and I didn't deserve to feel that way." You tell him sternly.

Yoongi surrenders to his silence as you take a deep breath to continue.

"Maybe I loved you too much in a way that you couldn't understand."

"_______, don't say that—" His eyes widen when he tries to reach a hand to yours to comfort you, but your body language remains stoic as you keep your hands in your lap.

"—and that's okay Yoongi. I loved you but not in the way you needed. I'm not here to make you feel bad about what I chose to do on my own because it wasn't my fault that I couldn't be what you need." You say sadly, but a small smile on your face as you finally say the words that have been eating at you for months.

"... okay," Yoongi accepts.

"We all have different ways to love and be loved. I loved you and that was enough for you at one point but love isn't all a relationship needs. You loved me too, in your own way and I accepted that but just because it was enough for me doesn't mean it was enough for us." You glance over at him to see him staring at you intently.

"I'm sorry that things turned out this way," Yoongi says softly, eyes gentle.

You wave him off.

"I don't think I'll ever love someone as much as I loved you, though," He confesses, eyes returning to the scene in front of him filled with different colours of life that seemed to look vibrant under the Spring sunset.

You shake your head and chuckle softly.

"You say that now but you'll meet someone one day and you'll remember all the reasons why you love in the first place. And it'll be enough for you, and them."

He shrugs, a small smile itching on his face.

"I really did love you," He says, "But I'm sorry for not being honest with you. I owe you that much of an apology."

"We're not here to forgive or forget, Yoongi," You look at him kindly, "We're here to move on."

He purses his lips and hums, nodding his head.

"I hope you get that promotion at work you were talking about months ago, ______." Yoongi offers, a gentle grin marring his face.

"I did," You shrug.

It feels liberating to have achieved something and only feeling content by acknowledging it yourself. Months ago, you would've hurt at the fact that Yoongi didn't know. But the change you welcomed after the end only showed you that there was a new path for you to walk on.

His eyes widen, but eventually, he chuckles and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like knew it.

You push yourself off the bench, dusting your hands on your pants as you offer him one last smile before you say goodbye for the second time.

"I hope you find someone who you'll love more than you ever did with me." You tease.

He rolls his eyes.

"Impossible," The grin on his face is easy, and your heart still clenches at the nonchalance, but you don't expect the feeling to go away so easily—nor do you mind. It just shows that you needed to wait and that you were willing to do it.

"Of course you will. You're a musician, Yoongi. You need a muse," You smirk at him as you turn around, a small wave on your hand to say goodbye.

As you walk away and his body gets smaller and smaller from your vision, you turn around to say:

"We don't talk together is a beautiful song."

Yoongi's smile is genuine, and so is his goodbye. A gentle acknowledgment of his hand as he stands up himself, walking to the other direction of where you were headed.

You still had a love for Yoongi, and you suppose you always will. Just like how you would feel pleasant when rediscovering a childhood hobby that triggers a fond memory, or how you love different things in your life in different ways. Whether or not you love someone more than you've ever loved Yoongi isn't your concern, because when love comes in one form, it goes in another.

When you still take the same route you'd usually take with Yoongi after your walks back home, you pass the cafe you used to frequent to see that it's replaced with a new bar. You smile fondly to yourself, shaking your head.

You loved that place.

But eventually, you'll find another cafe with a beautiful interior and a latte to match, and you'll love it too.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts yoongi #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi exes #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #yoongi breakup #angst #fluff #yoongi #min yoongi x reader

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bigwhispersbluebird · 3 years ago

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Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.

#bts #bts reactions #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #fanfic #fic #canon #angst #kim taehyung #v #taehyung #reader #oc x canon

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years ago

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↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: y/n pinning them against a wall - prompt inspired by this twitter post

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: kuroo x f!reader + sakusa x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: kuroo - 1000+ sakusa - 900+

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, aggressive behaviour-ish.

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: I’ll be doing this prompt for Osamu, Akaashi and Yaku too soon ~ I just like it a bit too much haha. also I edited this 3 times so if there are still errors, I am sorry pls ignore. lmao.

Kuroo Tetsurou

A low rhythmic hum vibrated inside of your throat, to accompany the track playing from your phone. Those who were fortunate enough to catch the melody trailing along with you, would often find a smile on their face. Between the tranquility of the sound and the bliss warping into your aura – your presence accidentally had an impact on many. Those in your university only knew you as the kind singer who would offer sincere smiles, free of cost. It was a reputation you did not mind adhering to – maybe it was better that they did not see the darker shades that coloured your soul. So, generally, a smile would remain sewn into your visage – unwavering until you were within the safety of your home. Where you could release the other parts of you that were deemed “not school friendly.”

Though, today your calculated barrier between the two worlds would disintegrate, due to the careless words of your best friend, Kuroo Tetsurou.

Upon reaching the corner that would connect you to the hallway where your class room was situated, you plucked out an earbud and placed it back into its case. Since this was a course you shared with Kuroo, the two of you held an uncommunicated agreement to wait for the other before entering the room. The thought of your close friend twisted a knot inside of your chest with threads of adoration, excitement and hope. It was quite clear that your relationship was not merely platonic. The issue was that neither of you had initiated the first step to test the boundaries.

But you would try today. You would try after class.

“So, what’s going on between you and l/n?”

Hearing your last name, you paused before switching hallways. How many other l/n’s were at the university? It was certainly a conversation about you.

So the question was, who was the one posing the question, and who was the one about to answer it?

“We’re just friends.”

Okay. Easy. That was Kuroo.

The nonchalance laced into his answer fueled the flame igniting in the pit of your stomach, yet you continued to conceal your presence from the pair.

“So you don’t mind if I ask her out?”

“It’s not my place to say anything.” Even without a visual, you knew your best friend would have added a shrug to accompany the statement. Somehow, that irritated you more.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped past the corner for your grand reveal. “Hi there, boys. You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Tetsurou for a second, would you?”

Your sudden emergence had startled Kuroo, but what had his chest constricting was your use of his first name and the hallow laugh that was spilling from your lips.

“Uh, sure…”

It took you a second to realize who the other male was – he was an acquittance of yours, one you shared two classes with. One who was mostly forgettable not due to a lack of charm, but solely because he wasn’t Kuroo.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Curling your fingers around your best friend’s wrist, you dragged him down the hallway, not caring for the confused glances thrown into your direction by those around you. When you reached the area between the staircase and corridor, you gently pushed him against the wall before placing both of your palms on either side of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you were quick to drown out his voice with your own.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Just friends? That’s bullshit.” The concoction of emotions weaving into your bloodstream had given you a headrush. But at the center of the varying feelings was fear. Because you wanted more than a friendship, and you were about to risk your entire relationship for that desire. You tried to suppress it, but over time it became overwhelming. And now – his words had awoken something inside of you. Something you could not contain.

The black-haired male blinked down at you, his irises moving from your arms walling him in, to the death glare your eyes were partaking in. “Isn’t that what we are, y/n? Friends?”

Out of the options available to him, Kuroo had selected the one for a coward. Or perhaps, he was testing you. Either way, your irritation with him had increased tenfold.

“Fuck you.” Lowering your hands on either side, you stepped away from him before turning back into the direction of your class.

“I wasn’t done yet.” A sigh left his mouth as he caught your wrist with his hand, tugging you towards him. Once your back aligned with his chest, he repositioned his arms to curl around your stomach. Heat spread throughout your entire body, and you were unsure whether it was from your anger or due to his close proximity. “We are friends, y/n. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more. You’re right, it is bullshit. But I can’t exactly go around telling everyone in the school that I’m in love with you, now can I?” Feeling you become incredibly still in his arms, he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss against your head. “But if I had known you would get that pissed off so easily, I would have said something stupid earlier. Because pinning me against the wall – that was hot.”

“Shut up.” Breaking away from his hold, you spun around to face him. A half smirk was tugging at his lips, one that communicated how much he enjoyed the situation. “You are horrible. What would you have done if that guy asked me out and I said yes? Hm?”

“I’d probably cry and then say on to the next one!” To further instigate you, he dipped an eyelid into a wink.

“Really. Horrible.” With your passion deflating, exhaustion crept into your muscles, bringing a groan to sound. “Let’s just get to class.”

“Nuh huh. We can ditch one class. Plus, you still haven’t said it back.” Tilting his head, he proceeded a step forward to close the distance once more. He then tapped on your chin, allowing your gazes to connect.

Inhaling a deep breath, a faint smile was presented towards him.

“I love you too, idi-.”

The remaining half of the insult did not leave your mouth, rather it was replaced with a muffled protest as Kuroo gently caught your lips with his. As you tried to break the exchange, he tangled his fingers in your hair, keeping you secure against him, before mumbling.

“That’s boyfriend to you.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

The repetitive interaction between the laminated flooring and the leather training balls had resulted in a dull ache in your temples. As the manager of a professional volleyball team, you were well accustomed to the noise but today, your patience was running thin. Practice had officially ended two hours ago, and yet your boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi continued fine-tuning his serves. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you scanned the male for any indication of exhaustion – something you would have capitalized on, in order to reason with him. Except the outside hitter’s reserve of energy was far from being depleted. It often surprised you how resilient he was, he certainly did not have Bokuto or Hinata’s stamina, but that did not keep him from pursuing his goals. Whenever he would discover a new technique or target, he would work on it relentlessly. It was an admirable trait, one that made him one of the best players you had ever seen.

And let it be known, supporting him was always your intention. But at the moment, you were passing your own limits and remaining calm and composed was not an option. Between the throbbing on either side of your head and the acids chewing away at your stomach lining from hunger, you were seconds from raiding Bokuto’s secret snack stash.

“Omi, you’re done. Go take a shower.” After swapping your clipboard for a towel, you proceeded across the court, before offering it out to him.

The outside hitter stared at you in response, indicating that he heard your commands but was electing to ignore them. Returning his attention to the volleyball within his grasp, he began prepping for another serve. A sigh mixed with a growl rattled inside of your throat as you twisted the towel in frustration. When the ball landed on the opposite side of the court, an eerie grin stretched onto your mouth.

“Omi. You little shit.”

With each step you took forward, Sakusa intuitively took one step back until his back was met with the padding attached to the wall. You were quite aware of your height difference, although that did not matter. You planted your hands on either side of him, purposefully caging him in. Knitting his brows together, confusion swam in his dark irises.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing? I’m not asking you to finish up. I’m telling you. We finished practice two hours ago, and I am starving. If you do not go into there and take a shower this instant, I will not be responsible for what happens to you. You know what they say – you’re not yourself when you’re hungry.” After gesturing to the locker room with your head, you squinted at him, attempting to seem menacing. However, you were only met with amusement.

“Are you saying you will eat me?” The question had Sakusa battling a smile. Was he really supposed to find that scary?

“We both know someone like you would taste delicious, so I’m not saying that isn’t a possibility.” Maintaining a deadpan expression while spouting nonsense was not a task for the weak – but after having countless conversations with actual idiots, you had mastered it. You would not provide your boyfriend any satisfaction.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His admittance of defeat was joined with the raise of his eyebrow, communicating that he expected you to “release him” now. You were about to comply with the silent request when he dipped down and placed a fleeting kiss onto your mouth. The sudden display of affection had erupted a volcano of butteries inside your stomach.

“What the …”

Leaving you there baffled, the MSBY player slipped past your defenses, smiling to himself.

Two could play at this game.

Later that night:

After gifting you an apology meal at your favourite fast-food joint, you both elected to walk home rather than taking a taxi. His fingers were intertwined with yours loosely, and since the streets were mostly abandoned, he had removed his mask, permitting his lungs unrestricted access to the fresh air. Now that your mood had elevated significantly after satisfying your human needs, you were ready to question your boyfriend on what occurred earlier inside of the arena.

“So, why’d you kiss me?” Kissing was generally an activity he preferred to engage in after showering. And therefore, you were puzzled by his recent actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shifting his gaze to the row of streetlamps that framed the sidewalk, he lifted his shoulders into a shrug.

“You liked that I threatened you, didn’t you?” A gentle laugh danced past your lips as you shook your head. That seemed to be the only explanation you could think of in the moment.

“No. You looked cute trying to seem scary.” He joined his retort with a scoff, although it was evident, he was suppressing any physical indication of joy.

“I am scary!” Resisting your urge to pout, you squished his hand to reinforce your statement.

“Yeah, sure you are.” Refusing to bestow upon you his full attention, his eyes travelled to the sky above. While he would not vocalize it, he found most of your antics to be ridiculously adorable. It was what he loved about you. And there was no denying that you could certainly scare others when deprived of food – but not him.

“I will eat you. Don’t tempt me.” A small pout forced its way to your lips to display your mild annoyance. Though, the emotion was easily defeated when Sakusa in a quick swoop, stole another kiss. This time, however, he lingered, enjoying the taste of your lips.

It turned out that maybe his rules around kissing required some amending. Because he wanted to kiss you, whether or not some of his pre-conditions were met. Guess that was a consequence of being in love.

Once he pulled away, he exhaled a chortle.

“Yeah? I’m looking forward to it.”

General taglist: @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @elephantloser @dreamstormings @anejuuuuoy @fantasycantasy @aquariarose @bloody-bella

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #kuroo tetsuro imagine #sakusa imagines

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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Prompt: “How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that" with... hmmmm.... Dick? Yeah, with Dick!

Real quick, I think a few of you misunderstood. When I say 3-from-1, I mean I am taking your single quote and pairing, and using it in all three prompts, not just one. Maybe this first one will help explain. Here are parts 1 and 2, since I think I’ve gone long enough without giving you guys content. I’m still working on the last part for this prompt, but it should be done soon!

— Part 1: The Romantic One (so Dickinette)

Tom and Sabine had decided that maybe a break from Paris was in order. Nobody could tell if it was the maniac turning random citizens into superpowered villains every other day, the fact that their daughter had come home with a few bruises that suggested extreme escalation on the side of her school bullies, or how they had caught said daughter asleep against her mannequin— standing up and drooling all over her expensive fabric.

Paris was clearly not a healthy place for Marinette at the moment, and a nice month-long vacation to Jump City was just what they needed. It was similar enough, with its villains and heroes, that they wouldn’t get too whiplashed by the long change in scenery. But it was also a lot safer than Paris was at the moment, and without nearly as many frequent large-scale villain attacks that ended with half the city in ruins as other places (looking at you, Gotham and Metropolis). The lack of villains that took advantage of civilian emotions was a plus.

Marinette, for one, was extremely grateful for the change. Sure, she still had to teleport back to Paris whenever an Akuma showed up, but Jump City was so much easier to relax in. And the ability to see the city’s heroes just walking around in full costume during the day, just relaxing, was an unexpectedly nice thing to experience. Marinette, as it turned out, happened to have a similar taste for places to hang out.

Now, she never spoke to them. She tended to just smile at the sight of them and go back to her own business— she knew how annoying it could be when people always invaded someone’s personal life just because they were well known. So when she saw them every now and then at the best arcade in town, or at one of the few vegan-friendly restaurants she liked? It brightened her day a bit, and she was pleasantly relaxed for quite a while afterwards. It was like, despite never actually approaching them, she was still among friends for once. People who understood everything she had gone through over the past several years since donning the Ladybug miraculous.

So yeah, she was enjoying her time in Jump City. So much so that her parents extended the trip indefinitely, and went through all the necessary paperwork to open a second location for their bakery in the city. They liked it there too.

That led to Marinette standing in line inside of the bank, right after getting all her own paperwork to attend school in Jump City in order. She was already exhausted from all the waiting and general boredom that followed doing anything official in America, and it was already past sunset to boot. The last thing she wanted was to be around when a villain attacked. The bank was already about to close and she didn’t know if they’d call her up in time for her to do what she needed to do.

And what happens? A blue-skinned magician with clear insanity and far too much of a resemblance to an Akuma to give her any sort of comfort comes bursting in and robbing the place. Marinette could only sigh, taking out her phone and informing her parents about the change in plans with all the ease of someone who was far too used to these kinds of things to be healthy. Luckily, the Teen Titans burst in only a few seconds later— must have been on a stake out, she thought.

Marinette put her phone away, deciding just to watch everyone in action. It was almost surreal, seeing such a large team fighting with such fluidity and lack of arguing. They seemed like such a perfect team, it made her envious. Only Chat was a good partner anymore, Marinette dreaded the days she had to find another temporary holder because nobody was a safe choice anymore. But the Teen Titans? They were a beautiful sight to behold.

That is, until Mumbo set his sights on her. The only civilian who wasn’t currently restrained, panicked, or hiding. Marinette blinked.

Oh, she thought. I must have been so tired I forgot to react to anything again.

But Marinette was also too tired to care much about first impressions, so the second Mumbo grabbed her arm and tried to use her as a hostage, she Reacted. The Teen Titans could only watch as Marinette jumped up and over Mumbo’s head, dragging his arm behind him in the process, before slamming her other fist into the small of his back and sending him onto his knees. As he tried to twist away, she kneed his wand out of his hand and twisted his other arm behind his back before he could cast another spell. Right before he could say some magic word and turn the tables on her, he was met with her head hitting the back of his and sending him unconscious immediately.

Problem handled, Marinette let go of him and backed off, dusting her hands off before letting loose a huge yawn.

She turned to leave when Cyborg’s hesitant voice Called out: “Uh, Ma’am? You should wait for the police. They’ll probably want your statement.”

Marinette blinked, and sighed as her shoulders dropped in dismay. “Oh yeah. I forgot I actually fought this time. Sorry,” she sighed again before adjusting her purse on her shoulder and obediently walking further inside the bank, leaning against the wall to wait. That was when Robin approached her, passing a few glances between her and the now-bound-up Mumbo.

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” he cut himself off mid-question, shaking his head. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s nothing all that special, Monsieur Robin,” Marinette assured, still amused. “And I’ve seen you do far more impressive things, I’m hardly that good of a fighter. My Maman has a background in martial arts, her whole side of the family has a minor obsession with teaching the girls how to fight,” she admitted with a small shrug. “It’s how we bonded, growing up. Every weekend she’d spar with me and we’d spend the whole day just training, and my Papan would bring food in every now and then when he wanted us to take a break. We don’t do it as often now, my Maman says she’s getting a little too old to spar all the time, but I still practice on my own.”

The vigilante blinked, not knowing how to respond for a moment. It was then that Marinette noticed the entire team had been listening, the police having already arrived and taking Mumbo away in cuffs. She blushed a bit, coughing into her hand in embarrassment.

“A-Ah, well. I wouldn’t have interfered at all if I wasn’t so tired, I’m sorry if I got in your way,” she began to babble, the usual nerves that came with having so many eyes on her kicking in. “I tend to space out when I’m exhausted, and so I kinda forgot to react when Mumbo came in? I just spaced out, and I got distracted watching you guys fight so well, and then he tried to grab me and I just… kinda… reacted?” Her voice got faster and higher as she spoke, until she ended her babbling by making it sound like a question. “I promise I won’t make this habit or anything, it’s just been a long day!”

“You…” It was Beast Boy who spoke up, eyes wide. “Did that while you were exhausted?! Woah! I’ve never seen anyone other than Robin fight like that when they were tired!”

Marinette knew her face must have been completely red by then, because it felt like her head was on fire. “I-it’s really not a big deal!” She started waving her hands in Marinette Denial, shaking her head like crazy. “P-probably just a fluke or something! I’ll just give my statement and get out of your hair!” She didn’t wait for a response before fleeing to the police out of sheer humiliation, and giving them the world’s fastest statement. The Titans tried to get her attention as she left, but her face was still one giant, ripe tomato and she just speed walked right past them without a word.

She didn’t even notice that she was followed home, or that she had a team of heroes watching her for a while before they completed their background search and left back for their own home. Or that Robin cast a glance back at her apartment several times as they left, questions crossing his mind too fast to recall all of them.

It wasn’t until a week later that Marinette saw them again, this time when she was at the grocery store. She let her shoulders drop when she saw them talking to each other in the middle of a random aisle, debating over which brand of a product to buy. Once again, a small smile crossed over her lips and she walked on by, fully intent on leaving them be and enjoying the aura of calm that their presence always seemed to give her. It was as she was calmly debating over which kind of fruit would make the best filling for the danishes she wanted to make, that a hand tapped her shoulder. She hummed, tearing her eyes away from the blueberries and raspberries to turn around.

“Yes? Do you need—“ she cut herself off when she saw that the person who had tapped her shoulder was none other than Robin himself, with the rest of his team giving her friendly smiles over his shoulder. She blue screened for a moment before shaking her head, sending him a small, confused smile. “Is there something you need, Monsieur Robin?”

“As a matter of fact,” he ran a hand through his unfairly fluffy hair as he gave her a far too charming, lopsided grin. “I hope you don’t mind that I did some research on you and your family after we met last week—“ Marinette almost laughed when she saw how his teammates face-palmed behind him and quietly groaned about how much tact he lacked. “—and I realized why your movements seemed so familiar. Your mother wouldn’t happen to be from the Cheng family in Hong Kong, would she?”

Marinette immediately lost most of her embarrassment, snorting. “You’re the one who did my background check, you tell me,” she teased. The rest of the Titans seemed floored by the fact that she wasn’t at all annoyed, insulted, or creeped out. “But since you’re asking anyway, yes. The group of primarily female martial artists in Hong Kong, the Chengs, is run by my Aunt. Why?”

Robin’s smile grew. “Well, it just so happens that they have one of the only unique combat styles that my mentor— Batman, of course— was never able to learn.”

Marinette actually did laugh now, connecting the dots as to what he wanted to actually ask. “Ah, because they only accept male pupils if they are blood-relations, non? Let me guess,” she crossed her arms and popped one hip, giving him a smug little grin. “You want me to teach you?”

“We have the best training facilities you have ever seen,” he bribed, eyes practically shining at the prospect of training in a new style of combat.

“I don’t doubt it,” Marinette got a little dreamy eyed herself at the thought. “And Maman can’t spar with me anytime soon… why not? I’m not bound by the Cheng rules after all, nobody can get mad if I teach you. And it requires a lot of gymnastic ability, which you clearly already have. Just one question,” she turned, gesturing to the fruit behind her. “Do you prefer blueberry or raspberry? I’m trying out a new danish recipe and don’t know which to choose.”

She did not miss how, as she was walking out with a few new acquaintances by her side and a few cases of blueberries, Cyborg whispered to Beast Boy:

“I can’t believe Robin actually picked up a girl when he led with the ‘we did an extensive check on your family history’ schtick!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slam! Marinette’s shin collided with Robin’s waist while they were both mid-air, sending the vigilante flying to the ground, tumbling until he could gain traction and stop himself. Marinette, on the other hand, landed on the padded floor of the training room nimbly.

“Not bad!” She praised. “You’re picking it all up really quickly!” Robin scoffed goodbye-naturedly, smirking as he stood up.

“If you didn’t restrict me to only using Cheng-style, I’d have won,” he boasted. Marinette’s eyes shone playfully at the challenge.

“Are you sure? I restricted myself to that style as well,” she teased. “It is the best way for you to learn, after all.”

As per usual, the rest of the Titans were nearby either doing their own training or snacking as they watched. Nobody left Marinette alone when she was at the Tower, which she understood. Apparently they had had someone betray them in the past, so she understood being cautious around her even if she had been teaching Robin twice a week for the past two months. Starfire floated up, flying over to tell them both about how much more exciting this spar had been than the last few, but the Tamaranean was interrupted when Marinette’s phone let out a loud alarm.

Being who they were, all the Titans stiffened and were immediately at alert. Marinette cursed softly, pulling out her phone to see—

“What’s an Akuma Alert?” Robin, ever the nosy idiot, asked. Marinette clenched her jaw. This was not good. It was only nine in the morning in Jump City, making it three in the morning back in Paris. Marinette had hoped he wouldn’t decide to have a late night attack when she was in Titan Tower and essentially trapped.

Marinette looked up from her phone, looking around as everyone’s gazes grew suspicious the longer she stayed silent. Until, finally, she sighed and silenced her phone. She began to speak even as she unzipped her purse to put it away.

“It’s an alert from Paris. I’m sorry, and I understand if you do not wish to see me after this, but I must go.”

“Go where? Paris?” Raven asked, sweeping up to stand next to Beat Boy. If this turned out to be another Terra situation, the boy would need support again. Terra had torn his heart out, and Beast Boy had finally allowed himself to like Marinette and get close to her as a friend. All of them had. “How?”

Marinette clenched her eyes shut, mourning the friendships she was sure she had just lost. Maybe she should stick to the opposite side of the city from then on, so they wouldn’t have to run into her again. With that plan in mind, she drew the magical pair of glasses out of her purse and put them on, making Kaalki materialize.

The Titans stiffened, and Marinette felt her heart shatter a little. But she still called on both of her transformations, and left to save Paris.

She did not go back to the Tower. When the battle was over, she just opened the returning portal straight to the alley outside her apartment and went back home to sob into her pillow. She couldn’t explain what was going on, wasn’t sure they would even want to listen. And she and Robin had been getting so close, too.

But Marinette would not stick around after keeping secrets. She was certain they hated her, anyway.

She went out of her way to avoid them, not even looking their way when they passed by her apartment— on purpose, she was sure. She did everything she could to avoid them. But one day, she couldn’t. She was in the middle of trying to lose them in the alleys on her way to go grocery shopping, when a wall of black cut her off, shadows moving to pile up dumpsters and block her escape. Marinette shrunk in on herself— so they were finally moving up to using their powers, huh?

She heard Starfire drop down to hover behind her next, then the sight of a green hawk landing on a balcony nearby gave away Beast Boy. Robin dropped down from a rooftop, and Cyborg pulled up in the T-Car to block the entrance of the alleyway.

“Marinette,” Robin started, but she shook her head and cut him off.

“Robin, I’m trying to stay out of you guys’s way. I get it, I kept secrets and that’s not cool, I’m not gonna interfere in your fights, you don’t have to worry about—“

“Friend Marinette, we are not angry,” Starfire spoke up, flying over to land next to her. She put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Her eyes widened, and the smaller girl gulped.

“You… aren't?”

“We hacked into Paris news and street cams after you left,” Cyborg admitted, crossing his arms before giving her a wide smile. “Why didn’t you just tell us you were one of Paris’s heroes? Did ya think we wouldn’t understand or something?” Marinette froze, and then her face grew red when realization set in.

“... Oh Kwami. I’m freaking out about heroes finding out my identity… as a hero…” she groaned as soon as she said it, her head falling into her hands as her friends laughed around her.

“Guess I don’t need that plausible deniability for the reasons I thought,” Robin joked, making Marinette glare at him.

“Don’t tease me, I’m too busy being mortified.”

“Too busy for me to offer you a room at the tower?” He asked, and Marinette looked up to berate him for continuing to tease her, only to stop and realize that his expression said he was completely serious. Her eyes widened in shock once again, and she opened and closed her mouth only for her voice to not work. Robin smiled, holding out one of his hands to her.

“Just for whenever you need a break. Judging by your reaction, your parents don’t know about Ladybug, right?” Marinettte winced at his words. She gave them a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

“No, back when we lived in Paris it was way too risky for anyone to know, even them. And now that we’re in Jump City, it’s been so long that…” she shook her head. “I don’t think they’d take it well.”

“Because they don’t understand,” Raven guessed, earning a nod and a small smile from the Parisian girl.

“And that’s why we’re offering you a room,” Robin continued, crossing his arms and giving her a confident, relaxed smile. “A temporary one, for whenever you need to drop by and be around people who understand you a bit better. Now, everything outside of the bedroom itself will still heavily monitor you for a while, but—“

“That’s fine!” Marinette agreed easily, beaming happily. “I get it, trust isn’t something that is easy to earn especially when it’s already been broken before. But the offer itself is already extremely generous, thank you!” Marinette lunged forward, tackling Robin in a tight hug. He laughed, returning the embrace.

“Dogpile!” Beast Boy yelled, of course transforming into a giant Saint Bernard as he leapt to start a group hug. His huge, furry body slammed Marinette and Robin to the ground, making them groan in pain and annoyance before Starfire picked all three of them up and started her own crushing hug. Followed by Cyborg wrapping his hands around the pile of superhero on the opposite side, and Raven… just kinda floating over to slump on top of the ball of teenaged heroes in the laziest hug ever.

Marinette didn’t stop laughing until her sides hurt.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had become a constant presence at the Tower, and Ladybug had even become an occasional member of the Team. She was officially labeled as a reserve member of the Titans, since her duties in Paris came first. But she was fine with that. She didn’t want to draw Hawkmoth’s attention to Jump City after all, but the few and far-between appearances she made weren’t too odd. It had already been a year and a half of her new life in America, on one of the weekends where Marinette found herself sprawled against the couch scrolling through Instagram on her phone, that everything changed. She heard the elevator door open, and took only a second to narrow down who it could be.

First; Kori was visiting Tamaran and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. Victor was working on the T-car and probably wouldn’t come back up for a while. Rachel was meditating, as always, and Marinette could still feel the magic aura from the floor above that told her that she had not moved a muscle. Gar was taking a literal cat nap on the kitchen counter. Only Robin was unaccounted for, since he had gone to Gotham to visit Batman for some “top secret Bat business” and could come back at any moment.

Deduction done, Marinette felt herself smile unintentionally. Her and Robin had become immeasurably close, and she had been pining after him for almost— well, since she first started training him all that time ago. So she sat up, ready to go attack her best friend and major crush in a hug.

“Welcome ba�� WHAT THE FUCK?!” Marinette tripped over thin air like she hardly did nowadays, floored by the sight in front of her. Robin was a stickler for his identity, though the rest of the Titans weren’t really. She had never seen him out of uniform, including mask, in the entire time she’d known him. Never heard his real name.

But here stood a boy her age, with extremely familiar fluffy hair and strong jaw. Who seemed extremely conflicted and distraught, in a black hoodie and sweatpants. It was the glimpse of red and yellow under the fully zipped-up hoodie and the slip of black fabric he held in one tightly curled fist that solidified exactly who this blue-eyed beauty was. Marinette swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Her yell had startled Garfield awake, who burst into his normal form and was staring at the scene equally wide- eyed. He made a few rapid gestures with his hands before choking out;

“I— I’m gonna… go see if Cy needs help,” before he scrambled away and into the elevator, flabbergasted. Robin didn’t say a word the whole time, just silently moving out of the way for the other boy.

Once Beast Boy was gone, the silence returned with stifling intensity. Marinette finally managed to clear her throat and get her thoughts in order.

“Are you okay?” She asked, because his well-being was more important than the fact that she was seeing his whole face for the first time. Because the fact that this was happening at all meant that something was probably very wrong. Just to make sure, she reached out with her Guardian abilities to read his aura— and yes, it was Robin. It couldn’t be anyone else.

But he didn’t look at all like their normally composed, erratic, confident leader. He looked like a young adult who had just had his world upturned and didn’t know how to manage it. He finally raised his eyes from the ground to meet her’s.

“... Batman got a new Robin… a while ago, apparently.”

Marinette sucked air through her teeth, grimacing. Yeah, that… that was a lot. “Come here,” she sat down and patted the couch next to her. “You clearly need to talk. We can even spar later if you want.”

He walked over, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “For once, I don’t think sparring will help. I mean yeah, I left Batman a long time ago because he wouldn’t take me seriously, but…”

Marinette understood. That was different than Batman giving his title to someone entirely new without even telling him. So she sat, and she listened as Robin explained all about his new adoptive brother, about the fight he had had with Bruce. Because apparently Batman was Bruce Wayne, but Marinette would shelve that headache for another day. At the end of it all, she hummed.

“Sounds like you need a new name then.”

“Mari,” Robin glared at her half heartedly. “That’s all you have to say? Really?”

“No,” she shrugged. “But I can’t keep calling you Robin, can I? But okay, you want me to be serious? It sounds like he was trying to do a good thing, getting Jason off the streets. Was he right to just give your moniker away with no warning? Of course not. But I don’t think he did it maliciously. If anything, I think this proves that Robin is a title for Batman’s sidekick to hold. And you’ve gotten way past that point in your life.”

“Well, for starters,” he said after a while. “My real name’s Dick.”

Marinette deadpanned at him, raising an eyebrow. “... I’m sorry, what?”

That got a snort out of him, and he smiled for the first time since he got back, running a hand through his hair again as he grinned at her. “Well, technically it’s Richard. Richard Grayson. But I prefer going by Dick.”

“Oh for the love of— good luck surviving Victor and Gar after you tell them that,” she warned, rubbing her temples at the mere thought of the chaos that was going to ensue. Rob— Dick— just laughed. But this time when he fell silent, Marinette didn’t immediately notice through her preemptive headache. But when she did, she looked up at him only to see him staring at her silently, an odd spark in his eyes. “What?”

“Well, if we’re admitting things and getting rid of secrets…” he started, leaning back a bit as his cheeks suddenly took on a pink tint. He cleared his throat, but met her eyes bravely. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, Marinette. If, uh, if you want. To go out with me, I mean.”

Marinette sat there, out of order, for a moment as her brain refused to work. Dick panicked.

“I mean, I get it if you don’t. Dating in the team and all, probably not the smartest move ever. So I get it—“

“Shut up,” Marinette interrupted, her face entirely pink. “I just couldn’t talk for a sec. yes, Dick. A million times, yes I’ll go out with you. Holy crap how dare you catch me off guard like that you jerk,” she glared at him before the two of them broke, bursting into laughter and leaning on one another.

They had gone through a lot. If the others found them slumped against one another on the couch, asleep and still holding hands, well they deserved the rest after the day they’d had. Now whether or not they deserved the many photos that had been taken to be held as blackmail against them? That was up for debate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 2: The same prompt, but siblings this time

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dickinette #3 from 1 challenge

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jikookuntold · 3 years ago

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I Can’t Believe We Are Still Talking About This!

Disclaimer: The post you are going to read here, is my personal opinions, plus some evidence. A part of the incidents I mention in this post, is my own observation and the rest came from some trustable sources but yet I don’t claim to be 100% true because first, the sources can be wrong, second, the human mind is tricky and a long time has passed so I can’t claim everything I remember is true. Some of the incidents could get fact-checked, but some couldn’t because the receipts are gone.

First, I had no intention to write about this controversial subject because many people don’t like to bring this up, and I was with them, but it seems people have many questions about it, and they don’t know the details of the incidents. So, I concluded that maybe it’s not bad if we open up a little bit and discuss this subject from different points of view with more details.

But again, I have to clarify this post is not factual, it’s just the things I remember about the subject in a ranting way. This incident had and still has so many unclear aspects, and everything we say or claim is just a theory. I’m not intended to shade or hate anyone, therefore I’m not going to mention any full names here.

TW: Rumor, Suicide, Scandal, Conspiracy Theory

The Break

You all might know about the break the members had in summer 2019. When their Japan tour ended, and they did some shooting and interviews (like Summer Package), the LDF concert on August 11th was their last schedule and based on BH statement, they were free for 30 to 35 days.

At this time, the members posted updates about being on vacation, but there was not much coming from JK and JM, except JK posting on weverse about staying awake and eating ramen and JM thanking him for eating ramen because of him (it was interesting that JM answered JK’s post about ramen at the same week we had the run episode moment where JK told JM “This is my heart” while putting ramen in his plate). After that, JM posted the videos of Run bottle cap challenge on August 26th.

Anyways, it was pretty clear that JM and JK were together on their days off for at least two weeks since JK mentioned in Bon Voyage 4 (their first schedule after the break) that he didn’t meet any of the members except JM and JH in his days off and since JH was the resident of the same complex, this kinda approved the theory of living with JM. JM also approved this theory, but we will go on that later.

The Rumors

In late August (27th or later) JM’s photos in Paris leaked, and JK was seen in Seoul eating churros, and a photo of his knuckle tattoos started to spread. Everyone was confused, and it was too soon to believe anything. After JM coming back from Paris for JK’s birthday, and leaving for Hawaii the next morning (as he explained in his 12th October Vlive, that year) things started to get weird. I know I didn’t bring up the Paris incidents, and I don’t want to, because it has nothing to do with the subject.

I still haven’t mentioned the subject directly, but I think most of you have guessed it right. In early September 2019, the rumors of JK going to a tattoo shop in Seoul started to spread. At first, the majority of the fandom didn’t take it seriously since the tattoo shop denied the rumors of JK being there, and even the photo of someone backhugging a short-haired girl claiming to be JK got mostly ignored because the photo was low quality and the man in it didn’t look like him that much. This was the time we heard the news about JK going to Geoje Island for vacation, alone, after visiting his family in Busan.

The real deal started when he appeared at the airport on September 16th (the day they were leaving for filming Bon Voyage4 in New Zealand) when we saw his knuckle tattoos, and the rumors turned out to be true. At first, we were excited about him getting tattoos without even knowing if they are permanent or not. But on the same day, the storm came. A photo of JK (this one was clearly him) sitting with that short-haired girl, (LM) eating lunch broke the internet.

The photo was taken from an angle to make it look like they were together alone, but at least two other people (later we found out they were more) were already there, and it was nothing like the date the person behind the camera was trying to make it look. The hugging photo which was taken from the CCTV of a karaoke room resurfaced along with the restaurant photo, and at this time, almost everyone in the fandom started to believe that they are dating.

The Statements

The mess on social media was getting bigger, and everyone was waiting for an official statement from both sides. BH released the statement a few hours later, denying the rumors and no further explanation. Almost one day passed, and there was nothing from LM, not even a single word. Finally, she posted a statement on her Instagram account (which gained a crazy amount of followers, and she didn’t even go on private the whole time).

The statement was extremely shady and been deleted a few hours later. LM claimed that she wasn’t ignoring the situation, and she was afraid to say anything because she knew we won’t believe her. “I am not dating JK” she used this sentence twice in her statement, and at the end, she said “his “J M” tattoos are not our initials!” and made the situation way worse. But the funny thing is, this wasn’t even the shadiest thing she did.

As I said, she got lots of followers (nearly 100k) and interactions on her account and started to delete the negative comments as she should, but she liked multiple comments congratulating her, saying she and JK look good together and things like that. I heard she even liked a fan-art post, but it didn’t end here. When the member came back from New Zealand she posted a selfie with the caption “I have missed you”. At this point, it was clear that she was enjoying the situation and acting shady to make it worse and fuel the rumors and stay on top of the news. But this wasn’t limited to herself because her colleagues at the tattoo shop weren’t any better.

In those days, one of the close friends of LM at the tattoo shop told an ARMY that LM has a boyfriend and there is nothing other than friendship between her and JK. And guess what? The Tattoo shop manager fired him the next day. What was the reason? Were those rumors a booster for their business, and they didn’t want them to die down? The number of followers and attention they gained at that time can approve my point. They were getting the best free promotion, any business could ever have.

Don’t Forget Me!

A few days later, when the public, started to forget the rumors, someone from the tattoo shop (I don’t remember if it was LM herself or her friend) talked to the media about the harassment they were getting from the ARMY to play the victim role. This again fueled everything and made us think over the situation. Was it all a frame for JK? The evidence suggests that it could.

Let’s go back a few days in the timeline of the events. Why JK chose that tattoo shop? Because his 97liner friends recommended him to go there (apparently this line of friends, have matching tattoos either) LM herself is a 97liner, and she is friends with plenty of idols, male and female, so they sounded pretty trustworthy. At the tattoo shop, they (LM and her tattoo shop colleagues) recommended JK to spend his days off at a guesthouse in Geoje Island, and based on LM’s Instagram posts, they were there days before JK, waiting for him, to make it look like they run into him accidentally? I don’t know, but this is a stalker's behavior

After having lunch with LM and her friends at the restaurant (where Sasaeng were there, ready to take photos), they went to a karaoke room and JK, who was pretty drunk (based on what the karaoke manager said later) backhugged LM. But the Sasaengs couldn’t be there to take photos, so they (allegedly) bribed the karaoke employee to show them the CCTV footage and took a low-quality picture of it.

The biggest question is, if the Sasaengs weren’t there, how did they know there is something worthy in the CCTV to check? The answer is they weren’t the main culprit, and karaoke or tattoo shop employees or both were cooperating with them. I mean karaoke employees definitely cooperated with Sasaengs, but the tattoo shop benefited the most. So why not? Anyways, that photo and that moment was the most “intimate” thing they could capture to use against JK.

JK went on that trip with his manager (The guesthouse manager gave out this information later, the part that was lacking in BH statement which could close the speculations way easier and earlier) and stayed at that guesthouse for two days to rest, but everything went wrong from there. This incident has three sides, LM and tattoo shop, the Sasaengs, who were following JK as their full-time job, and the media/industry which was trying to ruin JK’s image. I’m going to talk about all these three but let’s continue with the first one, LM and the tattoo shop.

Almost one month after the incident, LM’s friend interviewed with Korean media and claimed that ARMYs keep harassing her to the point that she wants to commit suicide. This was another attempt to bring everything back on top, but this time, it was disgusting because she did this interview right after one of the famous faces of Kpop committed suicide (October 14th, 2019). She used the situation and the public’s emotions to play the victim role on a higher level. Before this, many believed that she was a victim of some crazy Sasaengs, and she had nothing to do with the incident (I’m clearly talking about the people who didn’t think the rumors are true) but after that, it was clear that she is an attention seeker.

But I think she wasn’t just an attention seeker. She benefitted a lot from the situation. Her business blew up, she became one of the most famous non-celebrities in Korea (if not in the world), and she was literally shipping with one of the most popular men on the planet, who doesn’t like that? Anyways, LM had several friends, foreign older friends who were interacting with I-ARMYs for some unknown reasons, and one of them exposed something very interesting. She said she feels sorry for LM because she thought she had a chance with JK and that chance is long gone. Besides, people saw some conversations between LM and her friends on her Instagram comments about finding an idol boyfriend for her. These conversations happened before the incidents but it’s interesting since LM has several idol friends.

LM had another comeback to the media at the end of October and the next and the last update about the situation, happened in early December when BH stated that they (BH and LM!) are suing karaoke for leaking the photo. But after almost two years, we don’t know how this ended up. The last and probably the worst thing happened in the final episode of Bon Voyage when JK unnecessarily apologized for his behavior. I know JK himself, wanted to do this apology but he didn’t have done anything wrong and didn’t owe any apology to ARMY or anyone else, even if the rumors were true.

A New Ship on the Shore

After that, LM did nothing shady except posting photos of JK’s arm tattoos or someone with similar tattoos in December 2020 explaining their meanings, which was a weird action. After the rumors, JK didn’t visit that tattoo shop ever, and now, an artist who works with BH does his tattoos (the same artist who has done JM’s tattoos). LM announced on April 2021, that she has a boyfriend and some of JK/LM shippers, quitted their beloved ship after that. But not all of them.

We believed that the rumors weren’t true from the day JK and BH denied them, but many people didn’t. They were strongly believing that BH is hiding the truth because it’s Kpop and in this industry, idols are not allowed to date openly, so they had no choice but to deny any dating rumors. But this wasn’t their only reason for their denial. The main reason was the way JK was misunderstood and misrepresented by this fandom (I have a post about it, you can check it here).

At this point, there are people out there, shipping JK and LM. They bring several “proofs” for them being real such as:

1. Having similar tattoos: LM had designed and done JK’s tattoos, so it’s pretty normal for them to have the same style, especially the hand tattoos since he hasn’t changed or added anything on that part. But his arm tattoos have changed a lot, and you can’t see a similarity in them. Besides, knuckle tattoos are very common among tattoo lovers.

2. Having eyebrow piercing: This is another common trend. JK loves piercings and tattoos, and it means nothing, literally.

3. Similar drawings: This one is a little bit tricky and it needs a back story and a conspiracy theory. On 13th May 2020, BH released a Bangtan bomb from MAMA 2019 backstage, where JK drew a sketch of the moon and stars on a whiteboard. On the same day, people started to make a fuss, because LM had a design on her Instagram, very similar to JK’s improvised sketch. The date of her post was 11th December 2019, but the day JK drew that sketch, was December 4th (MAMA ceremony), and this means LM posted her design one week later. So who copied who? Does JK saw that design somewhere in that tattoo shop and had it in his mind, and drew it subconsciously? I don’t think so. Because JK improvised it in front of the camera, and it was originally his idea. Do I think BH has some insiders who took the photo of that sketch and showed it to LM, and she took the idea and made it hers? This is exactly what I think because I trust JK, not LM, nor BH. And the timing of the posts and Bangtan bomb is on my side. Preach!

That’s it. These are the only proofs people bring to say something is going on between them, and the funny thing is, this hasn’t ended even after April when LM announced that she is dating (apparently she had broken up with the last boyfriend right after the rumors started, definitely not sus, lol) The only reason people made a huge deal of those two photos, was one word: Heteronormativity. If LM were a man, none of this would have ever happened. But since this fandom is obsessed with the idea of het-JK, they bought these rumors eagerly. Back to the subject, as I said earlier, the other sides benefitted from this situation. I mean Sasaengs and the media/companies who had a part in the incidents.

Sasaengs always follow their targets and collect photos and videos of them, but they barely share anything publicly because they are criminals, and if they get busted they will be punished by the law. They have their isolated communities and share their information inside those communities. Of course, there are many accounts on social media that claim to be Sasaengs and gain lots of followers, but most of them are fake, and the real ones don’t share information for free, they sell them for high prices. So, there are two possibilities, in this case, someone bought JK’s photos from Sasaengs and published them, or Sasaengs did it themselves because someone asked/ordered them. I can’t see any other possibilities. Sasaengs wouldn’t gain anything from publishing these photos, but other people would, and they are the ones who made this happen.

Who were they? LM herself and tattoo shop? The fansite who wanted to destroy JK’s career? Or BH, who wanted to punish JK for his boldness about getting tattoos and make him more obedient? Or the media and rival companies, who wanted a scandal for their enemy? Or the people who wanted to revive the idea of het-JK? All of these are plausible and I can’t prove or disprove anything, but you can read more about this in the post I linked before.

Did This Affect Them?

Here comes the most interesting part; how did this affect Jikook? Did it affect them at all? Let’s review the timeline of the events again, from this point of view. As I mentioned earlier, we believe Jikook were together until 27th August and then JM went to Paris without any plans and came back for JK’s birthday. On the selfie, he posted that night he had written: “I’m glad to see you after not seeing you for a few days” which confirms that they were together before JM’s unplanned trip. At this point, JK had started getting tattoos and had most parts of his knuckle tattoos done.

When JM left Seoul for Hawaii the next day, JK went to Geoje, and the incidents happened, but nothing was public yet. Then he got arm tattoos and added some new parts to his hand tattoos including J which makes an obvious JM on his ring finger (The part LM claimed that is “not” their initials lol). JK’s completed hand tattoos were not exposed until September 16th when they were at the airport to leave for New Zealand. It was the day all the theories and rumors started. But in Jikook’s point of view, it happened on the second day of their trip.

Now we can start to analyze their moments on Bon Voyage 4. Of course, this series doesn’t show everything, but it gives us some clues about the dynamic of their relationship on those days. The first day of the trip when they were at the airport and Thailand (?) was pretty normal, but after that, at some moments I felt a strange atmosphere between them which I decided to not read too much on. But I found out I wasn’t wrong when in the last episode, JK talked about the awkwardness he felt about the issue with the members.

Jikook had many cute and domestic moments in the first two episodes but the grand gesture happened on the third one when JK climbed a hill without telling anyone, to bring a chunk of snow for JM as a gift, and we all know how much JM loves snow. This was an undeniable romantic act, but do I think this had anything to do with the situation? I believe Jikook was unbothered by those rumors because they completely trust each other, but the image you make for the others is different from the things you know and believe. Maybe this was a grand gesture not just for JM, but for us either.

After coming back to Seoul, there was no news from them for more than two weeks, and then they left Korea for Riyadh. The remarkable moment in the Riyadh concert was related to JM’s birthday. The members had planned a surprise for JM on the stage (The concert was on October 11th one day before his official birthday in Korea) and when it happened, JM said that he was happy because he saw JK happy and JK played a big role in that surprise. Honestly, you have to be deep in love to be happy just because your significant other is happy, even if it’s your own birthday. Let’s not forget the vlive JM did the next morning, and some pretty obvious moments happened that I can’t discuss here, but I bet you already know what I’m talking about. And also JM exposed the things he did for JK’s birthday that year.

A few hours later, on 18:22 (1+8+2+2=13) on local time and 00:22 on Korean time (only 22 minutes after JM’s official birthday in Korea started), JK tweeted one of the most amazing birthday tweets of all time which is comparable to a love letter. I’m sure you know everything about these tweets, so I’m not going too deep on this, I’m only saying that this tweet also was a grand gesture. And let me make another conspiracy theory here. After the rumors started, every time we had a big Jikook moment, something was coming from LM the next day. For example, when JK made this historic tweet, the next day LM's friend was interviewed about committing suicide. Or when SYS Seoul concerts happened (one of the biggest Jikook feasts of all time) and LM herself was at the VIP seats with her friends, the next day she did another comeback to the media. These can be just coincidences, but… never mind.

I Never Thought I Would Fall for a Man

Let’s not forget about the most obvious statements JK made on his first public appearance after the rumors. On JH’s vlive on 24th September, JK said: “I never thought I would fall for a man”. He said these words about JH dancing at CNS music video, and it clearly had nothing to do with Jikook, but it had a deep meaning. We know JK is not a shallow person, and lately, he stated that he thinks a lot before doing anything. So this didn't come out of nowhere, he didn't spit this out without thinking, in THAT situation. You never say such a thing when the internet is exploding with your dating rumors with a girl, do you?

His words can translate to “Do you ever consider the possibility of me not being straight?” This is what I read from his words and his facial expression. Maybe you think I say this because I’m a shipper, and I have this shipping goggle that makes me see everyone gay and debunk any girlfriend rumors. Some people even ask childish questions like “if they are dating why they didn’t travel together?” There are 100 explanations for that, and any couple who have been together for more than two years can answer you. When you date someone, you don’t stick together 24/7. Everyone in a healthy relationship has individuality, and sometimes they want to spend time with friends or alone, especially when they already had a world tour together lol.

Anyways, maybe I have a different point of view as a shipper, but this is not the problem. I never have a problem with my ship not being real (which they have shown enough to know they are). In fact, I will be delighted if any of them announce their relationship freely and publicly, but they haven’t done it yet. JK denied the rumors and gave us lots of hints about the truth, and I’m not delulu for believing him. But if you think he has to be het for backhugging a girl or having an eyebrow piercing, you are the one who is delusional because you are living in a heteronormative world where boys and girls can’t be friends and everyone is straight unless they come out in public.

I really can’t believe this post turning to be this long, and I thank you for reading it all. You might ask why I cared enough to write +4000 words about some stupid rumors that happened two years ago. This is the main question. This had to be ended in September 2019, but many people didn’t want it to end, because they loved it, they enjoyed it, they gained from it, so they protracted it as much as they could, and heteronormative people supported it blindly because of their homophobia or Y/N fantasies or whatever reason they had. I can’t believe we are still talking about this!

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sweetdejun · 3 years ago

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someday // l.t.y.

summary: several years after high school, when you and your peers have all established careers, you get invited to your graduating class reunion.

pairing: lee taeyong x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k

genre: exes!au, angst, some closure.

a/n: mentions of alcohol, UNEDITED

You knew this day would come, but not this soon.

It feels like it came fast when in reality it’s been almost seven years since you graduated from high school. It took a handful of odd jobs after receiving your bachelor’s degree, but you were able to land a position as an accountant. With your hard work, you’ve slowly climbed up the ladder to where you now serve as the finance director of the firm you work for. Your salary is handsome, as per your standards, and you were recently able to afford a nice apartment. It was only after your move that you visited your parents on the other side of the city where they handed you the envelope in your hands. It was an invitation to your high school reunion.

That's how, fast forward a week later, you found yourself standing in front of your old high school gymnasium. You see people walking towards the entrance and feel stupid because most of them seem to be going with another person, maybe a friend they would keep in touch with or a significant other. Maybe you should have coaxed one of your co-workers and bribed them with drinks or something afterward. Too late now, you thought, as you sighed and made your way to the entrance. Upon arrival, the first thing you notice is the reasonably large group of people scattered throughout the room. It’s dark and the only light sources are the few disco ball lamps projecting multicolored circles throughout the perimeter of the room. You squint to try to make out people when seconds later, your thoughts are interrupted by a shrill, “Y/N!” You turn your head towards the sound and find an adult Jisoo approaching you. Jisoo was one of your closest friends you kept in touch with for a while but lost contact with a couple of years into college. “Jisoo, is that you? Oh my god, it’s been ages! How are you?” you hugged her, and she began to share how shortly after graduating college, she applied for a job as a photographer at a fashion agency, but she ended up landing a job as a model. Long story short, Jisoo was now a thriving model. “I’m so happy for you!” you gush with sincerity and she gets shy, combing her fingers through her hair. She tells you that she may have just landed her big break, about to fill you in on details when an oh-so-familiar voice cuts her off. “Hey guys,” you turn around and your eyes meet Lee Taeyong.

Taeyong and Y/N: the “dream team” as they used to call you back in high school. You shared a long and valuable relationship with him, dating almost throughout all of high school. That's why when people heard that you split up, they were more shocked than they would have liked to admit. it was a rather nasty breakup that was not mutual at first; he had gotten into his dream university located across the country while you chose to stay in your home city for college. You didn't want to stop him from achieving his dreams of becoming a pediatric dietitian; you would have hated yourself for acting that selfish. Therefore, you thought things could work via long-distance and they did for a while, but the harsh realities like not being able to hold each other in your hard times set in faster than you wanted to admit. Your schedules were becoming increasingly incompatible, and it became difficult for either one of you to grasp onto the relationship. You both watched as it slowly slipped away from your hands. Taeyong was the one to pull the trigger, and with heavy hearts, the two of you officially parted ways.

You have not contacted each other since then. Now, the two of you stand face to face, and you see an emotion in his eyes that you don’t recognize. Perhaps it’s because you successfully managed to forget the negative memories from all the ones you still have of him. Or maybe you just forgot how to read him. “Uh, Y/N, I wasn’t expecting you to show up,” he awkwardly rubs his hands together as he slowly shifts his gaze around the room. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to come, but I decided to come just for the fun of it. Bit of a last-minute decision, actually.” Jisoo could sense the tension in the air and playfully scoffed, “really? Y/N, I thought you weren’t the type of person to make last-minute decisions. You used to grill me for doing that all the time.” You notice the surprise looming on Taeyong's face; he must’ve been taken aback by your statement too. You turn away from his careful gaze before coldly replying, “people change over time, I guess.”

After Jisoo finds someone else to catch up with, you quickly excuse yourself to the bar to grab a glass of punch because there is no way in hell that you want to be left alone with Taeyong right now. The walk over to the bar is a little difficult, mainly due to the lack of light, but you manage to make it without bumping into anyone else. as you pour your punch in a cup, someone clears their throat in front of you. “Johnny Suh!” you gasp, a smile forming on your face. Johnny and you used to be neighbors in high school but right after graduation, he and his family moved to Chicago. You were very sad at the departure of one of your only friends, so you were beyond thrilled to see him again. You shuffle around the table to give him a hug that he gladly reciprocated. “I thought I saw you walk in. how are you, Y/N?”

“I’ve been well. Busy, but well. When did you get back?” He tells you that he recently got a job at an accounting firm, right here in the city. When you ask him where he says the name of your firm. “No way! I work there, too!” Johnny lights up at this, you talk about the work-life, how the people are, and share your experiences.

You fail to notice that across the room, a pair of eyes have been following you ever since you left them alone a few moments ago. Taeyong watches, with a pained gaze, as you reciprocate what is obvious flirtatious behavior from Johnny. Truthfully, when Johnny moved away, Taeyong remembers being a little happy on the inside, because he wouldn’t have to hear you talk about him so much. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Johnny harbored a small crush on you. When he brought it up, you used to throw your head back in laughter, before pinching his cheeks and calling him cute. That same feeling begs to ignite again, but his head is quicker than his heart, as it forces him to look down at the thin silver band wrapped around the ring finger of his right hand. You’ve moved on, he hears, and he tucks his hand into his pocket. Someone walks over to him and captures his attention, pushing the thoughts of you and what could have been to the back of his head.

Johnny gets a call from someone, so he excuses himself from your company, leaving you standing amidst the terrible background music and a half-full cup of punch in your hand. You figure you can go grab some fresh air right about now, so you meander off to the door, before stepping out onto the concrete outside. The cool summer breeze is comfortable against your arms but out of habit you fold them together, the cup of punch firmly held in your palm. You close your eyes and exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Care if I join you?” Taeyong’s voice rings, shattering the silence you developed briefly. Opening your eyes, you clear your throat before saying, “be my guest.” Taeyong stands next to you, and once he’s in the light you’re able to get a better look at him. The last time you saw Taeyong, his hair was much shorter and cleanly trimmed. He had innocence in his eyes that twinkled with every step. The version of him standing next to you was definitely more mature; there’s a shadow of smile lines and crow’s feet on the side of his face you see, his hair has grown out quite a bit and you can make out the sharpness of his cheekbone and jaw naturally contouring his face.

“Some things never change, right?” He says out of the blue and you cough to offset the growing embarrassment you feel. He’s referring to how you used to zone out into your thoughts when you stared at him, usually from the side. He would always be able to pick up on it, teasing you relentlessly. “Have you been well?” “Did you move back here?” The both of you asked at the same time to one another, awkwardly laughing off the collision of your questions before you said, “you first.” Taeyong nodded, “I moved back here almost a year ago actually. I was transferred to a small hospital and they knew I was from here, so they figured it was easier to send someone who had a feel for the demographic.” You bit your lip, and he continued, “I didn’t realize how much I missed this city. It was only after I moved back that I felt like this is where home was all along. How about you, did you ever leave?” You shook your head, “I had all my opportunities here, so I never felt the need to go anywhere. I have been perfectly happy and I never felt better,” and as you speak, you notice Taeyong pull his hand out of his pocket to scratch his ear and light reflects the ring resting nicely on his ring finger. You try not to let your eyes widen too much, but you can’t help it if your heart shatters in your chest. “You’re engaged.” Taeyong winced at the change in your tone; he wanted to avoid this topic. “Uh, yeah. Yes, I am.” You attempt to play it off, looking away from his analyzing gaze. “Who’s the lucky person?” Taeyong looks outward with a certain fondness as he recalls details of his significant other. He says they met in one of his classes, saying they “were the best friend he never had”. You listened on as your walls started to break.

“I proposed shortly after I found out I was transferred here. They moved here with me, actually.” You nodded, recognizing all too well this feeling growing in you. It was reminiscent of how you felt when you broke up with him, but this was much more intense. You painfully exhaled and you knew he could sense it. “Happy for you. I really am,” you managed to say without letting your voice crack. Taeyong was always very straightforward with you, and it didn’t surprise you when he said, “Y/N, I was in the darkest place when we broke up. They helped me get out of that. I know it was not an easy decision to make, which is why I want you to know that you will always have a place in my heart. We spent so many years together, it’s natural that you and I will always be something special.” You turn the other way, and this time, you can’t stop the tears from falling. You couldn’t face him anymore because you don’t want to reveal to him that a big part of you still wanted him. Seeing that ring on his finger and hearing him gush about his partner reaffirmed all that. Now, all you wanted to do was to get out of there. “I’ll be honest, sometimes it still feels like I haven’t gotten over you. Even if I did. Know that I will always love you and that you’ll always have a piece of me.” Taeyong says, and a small whimper leaves you. ��I’m a mess, Taeyong,” you croak. “I built this strong wall and convinced myself that I was okay. Tonight you’ve proved me wrong. I tried time and time again to find someone else to introduce into my life but no one comes close.” You finally wipe your eyes and turn back to face Taeyong to find silent tears trailing down his face. “I was hoping you’d be here tonight if I’m being honest. I needed to get this off my chest. I’m sorry for everything, Y/N.”

You breathe, the final bit of teardrops sitting at your waterline. “Thank you, Taeyong. For everything, but especially the memories. I know I can’t fall out of love with you overnight, and I certainly will not ask you to do anything selfish. You know that I just want you to be happy, and if they make you happy, that’s all that matters.” Taeyong wants to reach out to wipe your tears, but he’s afraid he’ll cross a line he set for himself. “Would you still want to be friends? For old times’ sake,” Taeyong asks, hoping you’ll say yes. You feel conflicted but you say, “you’re going to need to give me time, Taeyong. I need to sort things out in terms of relationships, and right now, I don’t think I can take being your friend. That’s going to lead to me wishing terrible things on you two, and I don’t want to jeopardize a relationship that is strong enough as it is. Please, don’t force me to befriend you when I’m broken.” Taeyong is hurt, but the rational voice in his head is telling him that you are doing the right thing. “It’s getting late,” you muster the courage to say, “I should head out but I’m glad you got the closure you needed.” Taeyong offered to walk you to your car, and you don’t know if you can take any more heartbreak, but you let him walk you anyway. The tears are gone for now, but they’ll come back. Taeyong hesitates, “Do you want to meet up for lunch or something anytime soon?” You unlock your door and open it before turning to him. There’s a glint of hope in his eye, and you smile meekly, “maybe but not soon, Taeyong. When I’m ready. I hope you can understand.” He nods almost instantly, and you’re grateful for his reaction. “I’ll see you someday,” you tell him and he nods, waving to you as you start your car and leave, whispering under his breath “someday.”

a/n: AHHH my first ever long scenario. this was much easier to do than a series lol but I’m nervous! I would appreciate any and all feedback you guys have for me, and thank you for reading it!

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griefpersevering · 3 years ago

Text

sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand

the lokius beach fix-it fic nobody asked for

[Read on AO3] [Buy me a coffee?]

“Who are you?”

Loki stares at him for a long moment, his heart sinking in his chest. First Sylvie, now Mobius… maybe Lokis are destined to lose.

“What?” he asks, still breathing heavily.

The last few days have all melded into one; an indecipherable blur of racing for survival and not much else. With so much happening in quick succession since his failure in New York, it’s impossible to tell whether it has been days or weeks or months since he first arrived at the TVA.

Mobius doesn’t answer, just raising an eyebrow at him.

Loki allows his eyes to wander, assessing the situation and resigning himself to a fight. If Mobius doesn’t know who he is… well, there’s a chance he could get pruned again, and he would like to avoid that situation. Currently, the only people he can see are B-15 - who shouldn’t be too much of a problem - and Mobius, who he would prefer not to hurt, but if he doesn’t recognise him then-

Mobius bursts out laughing, B-15 snickering behind him. She claps him on the shoulder before waving goodbye and wandering off, still laughing to herself as she leaves.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Mobius says between breaths, his confusion replaced with a smile. “That was mean. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Mobius?” Loki ventures, still wary.

“Look, all that stuff about the Multiverse or whatever?” he replies, waving a hand dismissively. “Not our problem. I’ve officially retired, and I’ve got an excellent retirement plan. Fancy joining me?”

Loki crosses his arms, frowning. “You tricked me.”

Mobius shrugs. “Seems only fair.”

He tries not to smile. “You’re sure the TVA can deal with the Multiverse?”

“Yep, B-15’s taking care of it. Now, come on, there’s a beach waiting for us.”

Mobius fiddles with his TemPad for a moment, a doorway opening up in front of them. He takes a few confident strides towards it before hesitating, looking around the library one last time.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” he says, not meeting Loki’s eyes. “I know… I know a quieter life doesn’t really agree with Lokis. You can stay for the fight, if you want, or for Sylvie.”

Loki’s chest constricts at the mention of her, but he forces a small, sad smile onto his face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he answers, and Mobius smiles.

“For all time, then,” he says, extending his hand to Loki.

“Always,” he finishes, taking it as they step through the doorway together.

keep reading under the cut!

1991

The other side of the portal is exactly what Mobius promised: a beach. But what he failed to mention is the beauty of said beach - it isn’t just any old strip of sand, but one of the most breathtaking places Loki has ever had the honour of visiting.

They take a few steps into this new world, their shoes filling up with sand and their hands still entwined as they let their eyes adjust to the bright light. Loki pauses to slip off his socks and shoes, the sand warm and soft between his toes. Mobius follows suit, leaning on Loki for balance, a huge smile on his face.

“It should only be a few minutes walk from here,” Mobius announces, grinning.

“What is?” Loki asks, but he doesn’t get an answer. For once in his life, he isn’t sure he needs one, happy to go along with whatever adventure Mobius has planned.

They walk in comfortable silence, their feet sinking into the sand as they take in the tropical sights. To their left is a bay filled with sparking water which disappears past the land out to the horizon. In the distance, Loki can see a much busier beach by what appears to be a town. If he listens carefully enough, and the wind is blowing in the right direction, he can hear a hundred conversations carrying across the bay at once, a pleasant white noise that mixes with the sound of lapping waves.

To their right is a row of secluded houses, all enveloped in lush greenery that grows from the forest behind them, seeming to lean forwards and envelop them. Their front doors are all painted a variety of bright colours - red, yellow, purple, orange, pink - apart from the one at the end, which is just the default brown.

Mobius pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, a tiny fish keyring hanging from them. “This one is ours,” he declares, and he tugs Loki towards the little cottage at the end of the row.

It takes him a moment to find the right key to unlock the door before it swings open, a neutral brown and white hallway greeting them. He leaves his shoes on the mat outside the front door, Loki following suit, before venturing inside their new house.

Loki can’t say he is surprised by the decor - it isn’t exactly reminiscent of the TVA, but everything is decorated to look almost like a show home. There are no bright colours, no personal touches, nothing to indicate that anyone has ever lived there before them.

Just as Loki opens his mouth to say something, Mobius wrinkles his nose and beats him to it.

“Would it kill someone to pick up a paintbrush?” he complains, but he’s still smiling. “That’s what you get for a company retirement plan that’s only been in place for six hours, I guess… we’ll have to do it all ourselves.”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Company retirement plan?”

Mobius grins. “We have a lot to catch up on. Come on, why don’t you get cleaned up, and I’ll get us something to drink.”

As soon as he leaves the room, Loki rolls his eyes and waves his hand, using his magic to clean the blood and the dirt off of him and to change into a pair of shorts and a bright green haiwaiian t-shirt. And, now that he thinks about it… he frowns and uses what little magic he has left in him to spruce up the place a bit, before collapsing onto the (admittedly, very comfy) couch.

Mobius returns only a few minutes later, raising his eyebrows at the way Loki is sprawled across the sofa, his eyes closed. He looks around the room, taking in the few things that Loki has added - a blanket draped across the back of the couch, a wooden coffee table with a golden bowl of fruit placed neatly on top, and a framed poster of a jet ski on the far wall.

Oh, Mobius thinks with a snicker, you’re gonna love what I have planned for tomorrow.

“Did you get us a drink or are you just going to stand there for all eternity?” Loki asks without opening his eyes, swinging his legs so that there’s room to sit next to him.

“Sorry if I wasn’t moving fast enough, your highness,” Mobius teases as he plops onto the couch, passing a cold beer bottle into Loki’s waiting hands. “The new outfit slowed me down a bit.”

Loki smirks, cracking open one eye to see the outfit that he’d swapped for Mobius’ old clothes. “I thought you’d appreciate something more comfortable. Besides, we match.”

He swings his legs back up onto Mobius’ lap, taking a swig of his drink. They are quiet for a moment, listening to the distant crashing of waves and enjoying the lack of need to do… well, anything.

“Do you mind if I turn the television on?” Mobius eventually asks, and Loki hums an affirmative. He grabs the remote, trying to avoid jostling the legs on his lap as much as possible, before pressing the on button.

As an afterthought, he tugs the soft blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over the both of them, firmly focusing his attention on the screen in front of them rather than the sleepy god next to him.

{o0o}

Since he isn’t exactly human, Loki doesn’t need nearly as much sleep as humans. Usually, about eight hours is enough to get him through the week. However, with all the crazy stuff and time hopping and running for his life that he has done in the last however long, he’s asleep within minutes of making contact with the sofa.

When he wakes, however, it is to light streaming through a thin beige curtain. He sits up, running a hand through his hair, as he sleepily takes in his surroundings.

Somehow, he has ended up on top of a bed that he has never seen before. Given the boring decor, he assumes it must be the upstairs of the cottage… so, presumably, Mobius had moved him upstairs in his sleep.

Loki waits for that statement to sink in, for him to feel that usual sense of panic at someone being there and moving him while he was vulnerable, but it never comes.

(If he is being honest with himself, he knows exactly why Mobius is the exception, but he isn’t ready to admit that, not yet.)

He wanders over to the window, yanking open the curtain. There, outside, is the same paradise they had arrived in only last night. And, if the digital clock on the bedside table is enough to go by, it’s 10am on the twenty-fourth of September, 1991.

The view is even more beautiful when he is more awake to admire it, Loki decides. The bay sparkles like a rare jewel, and he finds himself cracking the window open to let some fresh air in.

He sighs, a long breath that mists the glass in front of him. He’ll miss this place, when he inevitably has to leave. Because there’s no way he can stay here for the rest of his life; he’s a Loki, after all, and Lokis are destined to lose. This - a paradise beyond time with someone who knows who he is and accepts him for who he is? He could scoff at the idea. When has the Universe (or the Multiverse, he supposes) ever been that kind to him?

Loki stares blankly out of the window for a few minutes until he is broken from his trance when he spots a familiar figure struggling down the beach, attempting to balance much more shopping than one man can manage.

He blinks a few times, making sure that it is, in fact, Mobius, before barking out a laugh and rushing downstairs and out the front door to lend him a hand. After all, what kind of guest would he be if he let his host embarrass himself publicly within 24 hours of moving in?

When he catches up to him - wearing the same garish, bright orange haiwaiian shirt that Loki had conjured up for him yesterday, he notes - Mobius doesn’t even notice he’s there until several of the bags are lifted from him.

“Hey! Oh, it’s just you,” he exclaims, adjusting a box under his arm. “Thank you,” he adds.

“What did you get?” Loki asks, tucking some of the smaller items into a pocket dimension so he had free hands to carry the rest of it.

“Oh, just a couple of things to spruce the place up. I got a bit carried away, actually,” Mobius admits as they start off back down the beach. “How did you sleep?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Like the dead, apparently. Did you move me while I was asleep?”

Mobius doesn’t meet his eyes as he responds. “Yep. You looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

There’s a pang in Loki’s chest; another reminder that leaving this place will get more and more painful the longer he stays. He can’t get used to these common gestures of affection - he can’t think of another person who would have cared enough about his comfort to go to the effort of carrying him up the stairs.

“Is something wrong?” Mobius asks, interrupting Loki’s train of thought. He’s staring at him, a curious expression on his face, and it’s only then that Loki realises they have stopped.

“It’s nothing,” Loki replies quickly, giving Mobius one of his most charming smiles as he starts walking again.

Mobius stays rooted to the spot. “Bullshit.”

Loki stops, his back turned to Mobius, and sighs. A range of lies are on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite find it in himself to bother trying to keep up a facade that they both know Mobius can see straight through.

“I’m having a nice time,” he states, after a minute of debate.

Mobius starts walking again, juggling his shopping as he catches up to Loki. “And that is a problem… why?”

“Because good things don’t last!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Lokis are destined to lose.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow. “You think this will be taken away from you,” he says. It isn’t a question. “Well, I have a present for you, then. Two, actually.”

They reach the front door of their cottage, Loki’s eyes trained on the ground as he scuffs his sandals on the sand. Mobius rummages through his bags, trying to find something specific.

“May I have the red striped carrier bag, please?” he asks, when his search comes up fruitless. Loki conjures it for him, passing it over. He doesn’t know what’s in any of the bags (although, now, he’s thinking he should probably have checked), he had only picked it because it is one of the heaviest ones.

Mobius opens the bag from him with a word of thanks, peering in to check it’s the right one. Then, he sticks a hand in his pocket, pulling out his fist closed around something.

“Here,” he says, offering his closed fist to Loki. “This is yours to keep, forever.”

Loki cautiously holds out a hand, and Mobius drops the item into his palm. Loki stares at the little piece of metal, wondering how it could mean so much.

“...Is this?”

“The key to our house, yeah,” Mobius confirms, smiling. “And a crocodile keyring, since I’m apparently never going to get over meeting that version of you.”

Loki smiles, just slightly, cupping the key carefully in his hands as he admires the keyring.

“And that bag is also for you. Well, the contents are, I don’t know if you want the bag as well-”

It’s not hard to tell that Mobius is nervous, so Loki can’t begin to imagine what is in the bag. He picks it up, sand pouring out the bottom of the bag, raising his eyebrows at what he finds.

“Green paint?”

Mobius grins, scratching the back of his head. “We’re the only ones with a boring front door. I figured we should probably fix that, add some of your flare.”

Loki gives him a shit-eating grin, sliding the keys into his pocket.

“What?” Mobius asks, sensing something is up. “What did I say?”

With a wave of a hand and without the paint can ever being opened, the front door is suddenly the colour of Peppermint Fresh.

“You seem to be forgetting you live with a god,” Loki declares, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on.”

They spend the rest of their day renovating their new house, Loki’s powers speeding up the process immensely. Other than paint and wallpaper, Mobius had also bought them both some clothes, as well as a range of random items to make the place look a little more personal, and two whole bags of groceries.

“I’ve never cooked anything before,” he admits, just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon. “We never had to, at the TVA. We always just went to the canteen.”

Loki hums to the radio playing in the corner, standing back to check if the strip of wallpaper he had just hung looked straight. “We always had people cook for us, back on Asgard,” he replies. “My mother tried to teach me, but I found pestering my brother much more interesting.”

“Do you miss your family?” Mobius asks, collecting the paintbrushes from around the room so he can wash them in the kitchen sink.

“They weren’t my family,” he responds immediately, before wincing. “Well, not biologically. But I’m starting to think that maybe family is more than just DNA.”

Mobius nods, shoving the paintbrushes into a carrier bag. When he’s sure Loki has nothing else to say, he gestures to the door. “Want to make sure I don’t set fire to the kitchen?”

Loki smiles. He has found himself doing that more and more since he has met Mobius; the man always seems to know what to say and do. “I’m pretty sure you know that I have quite the history of arson, but sure.”

So, they go downstairs, Loki waving his hands and cleaning the stray blotches of paint off their clothes.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Mobius suggests, opening the fridge. “Fish fingers?”

Loki nods. “Surely even you can’t mess that up.”

Oh, how he was wrong. An hour later, they’re sitting next to each other on the couch (upright, this time) eating burnt fish fingers and scoffing at the programme they’re watching.

“Do humans really believe in these things?” Loki asks incredulously, squirting more ketchup on his plate in an attempt to overpower the burnt taste.

Mobius scoffs. “I think it’s for entertainment, Loki. But yeah, ‘aliens’ don’t act like this. At least, not as far as I know.”

“There’s a multiverse now,” Loki muses. “Maybe there weren’t any before, but there are now.”

Mobius shrugs. “Who knows. It’s not our problem, either way.”

Loki doesn’t answer, instead opting to scoop the fishfinger into his mouth. Mobius frowns at his lack of response, grabbing the remote and muting Mulder and Scully’s investigation.

“You do know… this whole multiverse business, it’s not your fault, right? And, as far as we know, nothing catastrophic has happened yet.”

Loki swallows, refusing to take his eyes off the silent TV. “That’s the thing, Mobius. It is my fault - partly, at the very least. And what if something bad does happen? Any suffering or pain caused by this is on my shoulders.”

Mobius puts his plate down on the coffee table, nudging him with his shoulder. “That statement is so incorrect, it’s unbelievable. I thought you were supposed to be smart?”

Loki doesn’t say anything, and he sighs.

“Look - first of all, it isn’t your fault. This is all on Sylvie. I don’t know what happened there, but from what I gather, you tried to stop her, and that’s all that matters. I’ve met a hundred different Lokis, and every single one of them would have done what benefits them the most, not fought to try and do something to help other people.”

“She kissed me,” Loki says, out of nowhere. “Sylvie, I mean. And then she just… tossed me away.”

Mobius frowns. “Did you like her?”

“I thought I did,” he admits. “But I think - I don’t think I liked her like that. I think I mistook wanting her to be safe and happy for love.”

“It’s a kind of love, just perhaps not the one you assumed it was.”

Loki nods. “I loved her like a sister, I suppose.”

“And she betrayed you,” Mobius continues. “When you were finally allowing yourself to trust others again.”

Loki puts his plate on top of Mobius’, suddenly not hungry. He tries to turn his attention back to the muted television, but he’s missed too much of the exposition to properly understand what is happening.

“Loki, look at me,” Mobius says softly. “Loki.”

He turns, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes.

“Experiencing two conflicting emotions is perfectly normal,” Mobius continues, reaching for Loki’s hand and squeezing it. “You can care about Sylvie, and be upset about what she did at the same time.”

“I just-” he tries, his voice cracking. “I just wonder whether she ever cared about me, or whether she was just using me the entire time. I mean, it’s the kind of thing I would do, isn’t it?”

Mobius stares him dead in the eye, his voice firm. “Maybe once, but not now. You know what makes you different from every other Loki?”

“The fact I stole the Tesseract, escaped to the desert, and then helped to take down the man in charge of the universe?”

“No.” Mobius sighs. “Well, yes, I suppose. But what I was trying to say is that you’re different to every Loki because you care. You recognised your faults, and then you tried to change them.

“You said, earlier, ‘Lokis are destined to lose’, and yet here you are. I would count this as a win, wouldn’t you?”

Loki is uncharacteristically silent after that. They sit like that for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, before Loki stands up and disappears into the kitchen, taking the plates with him. Mobius sighs, reaching for the TV remote and turning the channel to some random movie.

When Loki returns a few minutes later, he sits straight down next to Mobius. They watch the movie - something about little fluffy monsters - together, not finding the need to speak.

It’s only by the time Loki’s head has drooped onto Mobius’ shoulder that the silence is broken. He drags the blanket over the sleepy Loki that’s attached itself to him, grinning at how adorable he finds the ferocious god.

“Thank you,” Loki mumbles, only half-conscious, and they both know he isn’t only talking about the blanket.

{o0o}

This time, when Loki wakes up, he knows the bed he lies in is his own. He frowns, not remembering getting into bed, before realising that Mobius must have carried him upstairs again.

If anyone asked him, he would say that he had fallen asleep because of all the magic he had used to renovate during the day, but that wouldn’t be the truth. No, he’d be a little more hesitant to admit that their little cottage by the beach feels like the safest place he has ever stayed. Besides, emotions are exhausting.

He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and checking the little clock by his bedside. 9:24, it reads, which isn’t too-

“Loki?” a sleepy voice says from beside him, and he has to stop himself from leaping out of the bed in surprise.

Because somehow, in the few minutes he has been awake, he has failed to notice that he is not alone in the room. Next to him, tucked neatly under the covers, is Mobius, Captain America pajamas and all.

Loki wrinkles his nose at the choice of outfit, but doesn’t voice his opinion. “What - did I fall asleep again?”

“Mmm,” Mobius hums, eyes sliding shut again. “‘S too early, go back to sleep.”

Okay, Loki’s pretty sure his heart just melted slightly. “I don’t need as much sleep as you,” he replies gently. “But you should lie in.”

“Fine,” Mobius complains, rolling over. “But I’m stealing your pillows.”

Loki can’t help but grin at the ridiculous sight - Mobius M. Mobius, formerly one of the most prestigious members of an elite organisation, spread starfish-style across their bed in his Avengers pajamas.

(Although, Loki supposes, the actual Avengers won’t exist for another twenty or so years, thanks to their time travel shenanigans.)

He slips into the hallway, leaving the door ajar behind him, before rummaging around in the bags they had shoved in the study yesterday without bothering to unpack. It only takes a few minutes to find the item he’s looking for, and it takes even less time to sneak back into their bedroom, his footsteps entirely silent.

Click! Loki smirks from behind the disposable camera and sneaks back out of the room, hoping that Mobius doesn’t wake up. Just because he doesn’t want a throne anymore doesn’t mean that he isn’t the God of Mischief- surely, Mobius should be expecting at least a few harmless pranks.

It’s a nice morning - cool, but in that way that suggests it might get much warmer later in the day - so Loki decides to go for a walk. He has barely made it past the second house in their row when a familiar face pops up from behind a hedge, waving wildly.

“Hey! I know you - blue box guy!”

Loki blinks a few times, trying to place the man in front of him. “Casey?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims, hurrying out of his front gate. “You stole my drink.”

“Sorry,” Loki replies automatically, before shaking his head. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you would not believe the week I have had,” Casey begins, waving his arm dramatically. “So I’ve been behind a desk my entire life, right? And then Mobius comes along, and he’s all like ‘Everyone who works for the TVA is a variant and the Timekeepers aren’t real!’ So there’s a bit of a fight - not everyone believes him, you see, and I had no idea what to think - and then a load of people come back from a field mission saying they saw Judge Renslayer as a high school principal!”

“Really,” Loki says drily, trying to keep up with the man’s incessant babbling.

“Yeah! So then Mobius takes over, just for a while, and he says that there are two Loki variants who are gonna take down whoever is behind the TVA, and he comes up with a plan - the people who still want to work there answer to B-15 and do whatever they want to, or you can retire to a few different locations in a few different times! And I figured, ‘Gosh, I nearly died twice in the span of ten minutes and that was scary so I should probably make sure my life has meant something,’ and also a multiverse sounds like a lot of paperwork, so. Here I am!”

Loki is silent for a few seconds, still trying to process all the information that Casey managed to spit out at an alarmingly fast rate. “Wait. So, everyone who lives here used to work for the TVA?”

Casey nods. “This row of houses, yeah. ‘1991 Beach’ was the most popular retirement option - I was pretty lucky to get one of these spots.”

“Huh,” is just about all Loki can manage.

“And guess what, criminal whose name I don’t know!” Casey exclaims excitedly. “I met a fish the other day.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, amused. “Did you, now?”

“Yep! Which, uh, makes your threat much more vivid.” Casey shudders.

“Don’t worry, I don’t kill people anymore,” Loki says, and realises that that is probably the truth. “Sorry about that, and for stealing your drink.”

Casey shrugs. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I should head back, but it was nice to see you again, Casey.” Loki turns back to their house, his feet slipping slightly in the sand. “Oh, and, by the way - my name is Loki.”

He turns his back and walks away before he can see the look on Casey’s face, but if the sharp intake of breath he hears is anything to go by, he has certainly succeeded in surprising his new neighbour.

When he gets back, Mobius is awake, shuffling around the kitchen in his pajamas. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets as Loki appears in the doorway, sniffing the air.

“Breakfast?” he asks hopefully, and Mobius laughs.

“Yup. Full English, I thought. Did you have a nice walk?”

Loki perches on the edge of the table, smiling. “I didn’t get particularly far. I had an… interesting conversation with Casey, though.”

“Oh, I remember him. Bit weird, if memory serves,” Mobius responds, scrunching his nose as he cracks two eggs into the frying pan. “Wait, how do you know him?”

Loki scratches the back of his head. “I may, uh - I may have threatened to ‘gut him like a fish’. And then I stole his drink and poured it into your salad.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow. “Wow, okay.”

“In my defense, he didn’t know what a fish was until he moved here. And, I was part of the reason he retired, so.”

“How did he not know what a fish- You know what,” he replies, shaking his head as he turns back to the stove. “I don’t care.”

Loki turns the radio in the corner on with a flick of his wrist, and they are both content to sit and enjoy the quiet morning while Mobius cooks. In no time at all, they are sitting across from each other, two plates of food in front of them.

Picking a piece of eggshell out of his food, Loki warily takes a bite. “Did you have any plans for today?”

“As a matter of fact,” Mobius responds with an excited grin, “I do.”

It turns out, Mobius’ plans involve him packing a backpack and eagerly dragging Loki down the beach to a small jetty. There, waiting for them on the end of the small pier, is a jet ski.

Loki grins. “So that's why you chose the beach.”

Mobius grins, dumping the bag on the side and fishing his keys out of his pockets. “I have read about these things every day for almost the entirety of what I can remember, and I’m finally getting to go on one. Are you coming?”

“Of course,” Loki answers, and he clambers on behind Mobius.

“Hang on,” he shouts over the engine, and Loki wraps his arms around his waist. “You ready?”

“I’m starting to think this might be a bad- woah!”

Before Loki can even finish his statement, they’re off. Mobius soon gets the hang of it, zipping around the bay and whooping. Loki can’t help but smile - sure, he isn’t nearly as bothered about jet skis as Mobius is, but the man’s excitement is contagious. Besides, there is a certain freedom to it; he can feel the wind in his hair and taste the salt on his lips.

Suddenly, Mobius attempts to do a sharp turn, jolting them both with absolutely no warning. Loki tries to hang on, clinging tightly onto his chest, but the movement catches him by surprise and he ends up in the water.

Mobius turns the jet ski around, slowly pulling up next to (the now very wet) god. “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very apologetic.

“Maybe I’ll stick to sunbathing,” Loki suggests as Mobius hauls him back onto the ski before dropping him off at the jetty.

“Are you sure?” he asks, clearly torn between having the time of his life and leaving Loki on his own.

“Of course I’m sure,” he answers. “I think I’ll survive an hour or two on my own. Besides, I don’t want to ruin your fun by vomiting all over you.”

Mobius pulls a face. “Maybe it’s for the best, then. I won’t go far, I promise.”

“Go!” Loki says, waving his arm at his friend as he picks up their bag. “Have some fun. You’ve earned it. I think we both have.”

Hours later, when the sun has started to set over the horizon, the two men find themselves lazing on the beach next to each other. Mobius slips a chocolate wrapper into the book he’s reading and places it down next to him, turning to his companion.

“Loki,” he begins, staring out at the sea. “Did you ever think you would settle down like this?”

“Never,” Loki answers, without any hesitation.

“Me neither.”

In the distance, there is the faint smell of cherry pie - perhaps one of their neighbours is cooking. A seagull swoops by overhead, landing on a fence a few feet behind them and bobbing about. If you look closely enough, you can see the ripples on the top of the water; the only clue that there are fish below the surface.

“We make a strange pair, don’t we?” Mobius muses, watching the sky turn from blue to orange to pink.

Loki hums. “That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”

There’s no argument to be made against that in Mobius’ mind, so they sit together, not at the end of the world, but at the beginning of one.

THE END.

tag list! ask to be added or removed :D

@tiredgayemoweeb / @idrilearfalas / @consulting-supernatural / @doomeccentric / @lyriumwolf / @peterspattersons / @inconceivablelife / @sunsetcurve123 / @i-am-the-trash-duchess / @hermes-creature / @alexmalikplays / @hisfishfingersandcustard

#lokius #loki #loki spoilers #mobius #mcu #my writing #syssyb

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jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

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All That Was Fair

Chapter 24: The Rubber Stamp

Summary: “It seemed that every time someone was at the door, Jamie was confronted with a disaster. (...) He had no desire to answer it and whatever trouble it might bring.”

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a/n: I'm hardcore procrastinating right now, so here's a next day update! This chapter picks up on the same day as the last chapter. Hope you enjoy and thanks so much for reading <3

Chapter 24: The Rubber Stamp

There was a solid knock at the door, three raps showing no particular urgency but also leaving no room for Jamie to pretend he hadn’t heard. It seemed that every time someone was at the door, Jamie was confronted with a disaster. First it had been the mailman that had resulted in Claire crying in his arms over never being able to go home, and then it was Jenny… being Jenny— twice. He worried at first that it was his sister back again to stir up even more trouble, except the knock was most certainly not his sister’s style of ringing the bell like a maniac. Still, he had no desire to answer it and whatever trouble it might bring. He wanted to stay wrapped up in his fantasy with his faerie forever.

At the sound outside the door, Claire jerked her head up from where it had been laid on his shoulder. They were having a lazy Sunday afternoon, sitting on the couch in quiet companionship after having finished up their chapter of Lord of the Rings. Claire had been just slightly dozing at his side when the sound disturbed their peace.

“Dinna fash,” he said quietly as she shifted a bit so he could stand, “stay here.”

As he made his way to the entryway, he could sense his stubborn faerie getting up and following behind him. He stopped in front of the big oak door and Claire pressed herself behind him. He shot a glance over his shoulder to see her peeking curiously around his side.

“Sassenach,” he said patiently, “why dinna ye go wait in the other room?”

She shook her head stubbornly.

Jamie rolled her eyes and decided not to argue with her. (He was beginning to miss the early days of easy compliance— not that he wanted her to be as timid as she used to be, he just should have enjoyed telling her what to do while he’d had the chance). She seemed content enough to mostly hide herself behind him, so maybe she wouldn’t be visible to whoever was at the door.

He unlocked it and pulled it open a crack.

Outside stood none other than his Godfather, Murtagh Fitzgibbons, looking particularly dour under his bushy beard. As soon as the man caught sight of Jamie, he grumbled, “took ye long enough.”

“Murtagh!” Jamie exclaimed, feeling the rush of fondness he always did at the sight of his godfather, “what are you doin’ here?”

The only thing lacking from the expression on Murtagh’s face was an eye-roll. “Care tae explain why yer sister is bletherin’ on in my ear every day and night for the past week about how her brother has taken up wi’ a trollop and gone off the deep end? Mind,” he shot a look to the side of Jamie that made his eyes go wide, and Jamie felt a sinking feeling in his gut that his godfather had caught sight of Claire peeking around him, “I wouldna have been inclined tae believe her if not for the fact that I havna heard from ye. And now I see… ye do have... company.”

Murtagh gave a nod at Jamie’s side, where he knew Claire must have been showing herself.

Jamie let out a sigh and gave into the urge to check behind him. Claire had drifted forward and was hovering at his side, looking out the cracked door with huge doe eyes.

“This is Murtagh, your…?” she spoke up, addressing Jamie.

“Aye, my Godfather,” Jamie said, reluctantly accepting the unplanned meeting, “well I suppose introductions are in order. Murtagh, this is Claire.”

“Hello, lass,” Murtagh said, politely enough. He held out his hand, saying “so you’re…”

“The trollop,” she answered, completely innocently.

Jamie had to bite down a laugh. The lass didna even ken the meaning of that word…

Murtagh’s eyes went wide, and he looked rightfully embarrassed. “I didna mean… I—”

Claire still hadn’t taken his hand (yet another human custom she didn’t know— Jamie had to remind himself to teach her that one), and Murtagh glanced down at his proffered appendage, then back up at Claire. Assuming she was too offended by his earlier statement to shake his hand, he dropped it back to his side.

Jamie decided to try to ease the situation and offered, “why dinna ye come inside?”

Murtagh made a sound of assent deep in his throat and stepped inside the door. Just as Claire started to turn toward the living room, Jamie suddenly remembered that she was wearing the low cut dress— the one that so prettily displayed her wings. He threw himself behind her just in time to use his bulk to prevent Murtagh from seeing her exposed wings. With urgency, he grabbed Claire’s arms in front of him and pulled her against him so her back was pressed to his front, safely hiding the wings from view.

He herded her toward the living room, pushing her so fast that she nearly stumbled. But they needed to get there before Murtagh so he’d have time to rip off his jacket and give it to her.

Sure enough, Murtagh was ambling lazily enough, so the second they were in the living room, Jamie whirled her around so her front was facing the entryway and then let go of her to tear off his jacket. He swung it around her shoulders just in the nick of time before Murtagh arrived.

Trying to disguise what he’d been doing, Jamie pulled Claire close and draped an arm around her, feigning nonchalance as best as he could. Meanwhile, Claire was clutching Jamie’s jacket closed in front of her, holding on with a white-knuckled grip.

“Murtagh,” he said, trying to get his brain to catch back up to the situation, “I’m glad ye’re here, truly. Now ye can officially meet my girlfriend.”

To Murtagh’s credit, his eyes only went wide in shocked disbelief for a second before he managed a polite, “nice tae meet ye, lass” for Jamie’s now-claimed girlfriend.

“Why dinna ye have a seat?” Jamie suggested, gesturing toward a chair.

In the meantime, Jamie brought Claire with him over toward the couch. On the way, Claire reached up on her toes to whisper softly in his ear, “is it okay to hold your hand?”

He looked down at him, confused for a second to see her anxious expression, before he remembered their conversation about PDA and how it’d been inappropriate in front of Jenny. Jamie nearly had to laugh at her earnestness to do right by his customs.

“Yes, lass,” he whispered discreetly as they sat down together, “as long as ye dinna sit on my lap this time.”

Claire seemed greatly relieved by this, and as soon as they were seated, she reached out to lace their fingers together. She held on more tightly than normal, and Jamie gave her a squeeze, trying to reassure her that Murtagh was not, in fact, like Jenny, and she didn’t have to worry.

Jamie was rather worried himself though. Murtagh had been like a father to him ever since his own had passed a few years back; his opinion about Claire (who he hoped he’d spend the rest of his life with, God willing) meant a lot to him. He could only hope that Jenny’s sour words hadn’t already cemented Murtagh’s opinion.

Naturally, Murtagh began with questions that Jamie had a hard time answering.

“So, when did ye two…” he fumbled. It was unlike Murtagh to waver so indirectly, but it was clear what he was asking.

The next few minutes were spent feeding him the fake backstory Jamie had concocted. As he’d explained to Jenny, Jamie said that he’d met Claire at university in Paris and they’d kept in touch. When she’d come to visit, they’d reconnected. Claire extended her trip, and they both realized they’d been in love all this time.

Murtagh seemed to take it mostly in stride, nodding politely but keeping his expression neutral. Jamie had no idea what was going on underneath that impenetrable beard of his, and it worried him to no end.

“So, lass,” Murtagh said, sounding conversational, “let’s hear from you. How do ye feel about our Jamie, then?”

Jamie’s head whipped to her, and found she was smiling nearly ear to ear. “I love him,” she answered without hesitation, “I think he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” Her voice was fond and sincere, and she looked up at Jamie with a smile, as if she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. “I think he’s kind, and giving, and thoughtful, and intelligent. And so much more than that. And I think I’m so lucky to be here with him.”

His heart clenched nearly painfully in his chest, and it took all his self control to keep from kissing her, or from breaking into tears. God, he loved her.

Forgetting Murtagh for a second, he grew lost in her warm gaze, that honey look like a caress on his skin.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he said softly.

Murtagh cleared his throat pointedly, breaking the moment, but when Jamie looked away from Claire and back toward his godfather, there was none of the animosity in his eyes that there’d been in Jenny’s. His grump of a surrogate father just held his usual “why are you subjecting me to the nonsense” kind of expression.

Just as Jamie was about to open his mouth, floundering for something to say, Adso came prancing into the room, looking distinguished and ready to grab the attention. He was quite successful, too, because the non-existent conversation ground to a halt.

“Adso!” Claire cooed, as she always did when the cat approached.

The cheetie meowed back at her in greeting, and Claire’s face softened ever-further. She always got this sweet expression on her face around Adso, like the look of a loving caretaker. Jamie couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d wear the same expression with their kids… if they could even have kids…

His gut clenched for a second in uncertainty, thinking about the very real possibility that they couldn’t actually procreate. Jamie knew they would have to talk about it someday, but he was terrified of hearing that his dream of having children was an impossible one. He could manage without a big family— all he really needed was her— but he’d prefer to live in hopeful ignorance for a short while longer, imaging bairns running around with her whiskey eyes and his red hair.

When Jamie managed to drag himself back to reality, he saw that Claire had repositioned herself to sit on the floor, and Adso was already settled in her lap, purring away.

His faerie looked up at Murtagh. “Do you like cheeties, Murtagh?” she asked, looking the picture of innocent enthusiasm.

Murtagh— the hard man that he was and usually so unshakeable— looked taken aback at the question.

“I canna say I have a strong opinion on the matter,” Murtagh answered.

“Oh, well I love them. I’d never met a cheetie before Adso, but I’m sure he must be the nicest there is,” Claire said simply. Jamie had to clench his jaw, finding her incredibly endearing but infuriating at the same time. She was drifting carelessly into dangerous territory….

“Never ‘met’ a cheetie, meanin' ye’d never had one or…” Murtagh was looking dubious, and Jamie’s heart beat faster, his muscles coiling as if he could face the threat of Murtagh’s suspicions physically.

“No,” Claire said, and Jamie had to hide a grimace, knowing exactly where she was going. She was always so honest, his faerie. “I mean I’d never seen one.”

Murtagh’s brows drew together as he squinted down at her. “Where did ye say ye were from again?” He asked, not unreasonably.

“A verrra small rural town near Oxfordshire,” Jamie jumped in hastily, for fear that Claire would forget herself. She seemed to be going off the rails, there was no telling what she would say, even knowing as she did that she shouldn’t say anything to give her secret away.

Claire, still sitting cross legged and stroking the cat, gave a nod of affirmation.

Murtagh’s only response was a grunt, followed by silence. Ever a man of few words, he didn’t seem inclined to further the conversation himself.

Unfortunately, that meant that Claire, in her eagerness to get to know him, was jumping confidently back into the conversation. “So, Murtagh,” she said, “what do you do?”

Alright, good. That’s a relatively normal question. Good, lass.

“Construction hereabouts,” Murtagh replied, seeming less than interested in the small talk.

Claire’s eyes widened, and she put on an excited face that Jamie thought was very genuine.

“Building? That’s lovely! What do you build?”

While Claire likely meant the question quite literally, having no idea what the job of construction entailed, Murtagh thankfully took it at face value.

“Mostly residential. Many of the houses ye see hereabouts are our work,” Murtagh said, a hint of pride showing from beneath his busy beard.

“Ohh…” Claire said, probably sounding a little too awed for the occasion, but it was sweet nonetheless, “so you build places like this? How—”

Jamie, sensing that she was about to question how one goes about building a house, tried to avert disaster by quickly cutting in before she could finish her strange question. “Claire, mo ghraidh, would you mind grabbing me a glass of water?”

Claire shot a sweet, indulgent look at him from over her shoulder and gave a nod. “Of course, Jamie.” She unceremoniously dumped the cat from her lap as she stood, and she gave a polite nod to Murtagh, saying, “sorry for leaving the conversation, I’ll be right back.”

As she left the room for the safety of the kitchen, Jamie felt his heart rate drop back to normal rhythms.

Just as quickly though, it was ratcheted back up when Murtagh gave him a long look and commented, “She’s a wee bit… strange, isn’t she?”

Trying not to break out into nervous sweats, Jamie reminded himself that there were strange humans too, and nothing Claire had said had been that bad.

“Aye, a bit. But I love her for it,” he said honestly, throwing a look into the kitchen where Claire was currently studying the sink closely as she tried to recall how to turn it on. Jamie sent her good luck and tried not to smile to himself. They’d worked the sink together before, but she never really had a reason to use it on her own. Jamie was often around to turn it on for her after she’d been gardening and needed to clean up. He made a mental note to stop enabling her lack of human skills.

Murtagh was staring at him in the meanwhile, looking lost in thought and careful evaluation. Meeting those dark eyes, Jamie found himself feeling nervous over what was going on in the impenetrable head of his godfather.

“Ye’re sure about her?” came the question.

All Jamie managed to get out was an “aye,” before Claire was returning to the room, looking triumphant with a full glass of water in her hand.

The next few minutes were spent catching Murtagh up on the happenings at Jamie’s publishing company, which thankfully did not involve a grilling on why Jamie had been taking so much time off. Claire was quiet during the conversation, but feigned engagement well, looking invested in Jamie’s words in a way that made his stomach warm. The sweet lass truly knew nothing about his work, but apparently loving him was enough to make her love hearing about his passions.

Then, at a break in the conversation, Murtagh stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.

“I’m sorry to cut the visit short,” he said abruptly, “but I hafta be somewhere, I canna stay much longer. I jes’ wanted tae drop by and check on ye, lad.”

Taking Claire’s hand, Jamie stood as well, bringing her with him. Murtagh’s eyes fixed on Claire.

“Can I have a moment tae speak wi’ Jamie alone before I go?” he asked her once they were all standing.

“Of course,” she said graciously, “it was so nice to meet you, Murtagh.”

She shot a quick glance at Jamie over her shoulder and, at his nod, gave one last smile to Murtagh— who gave a soft “you too, lass”— before leaving the room. Alone with Murtagh, Jamie’s heart began to race, wondering if he was about to face the “are ye daft?” intervention talk.

Murtagh approached him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and walking him toward the door. When they reached the entryway, both of them stopped, and his godfather looked at him for a long second.

Jamie braced himself, trying to be strong for the moment Murtagh expressed disapproval. He could handle it. The world could hang, all he needed was Claire— he tried to tell himself despite the rising anxiety in his chest.

Murtagh’s stare didn’t break, his usual dour expression holding fast on his face. His bushy brows were low over his unreadable eyes, but there seemed to be a clenching in his jaw that was unusual for the hard man.

“What do ye think of her?” Jamie finally burst out, trying to bite the bullet he knew was coming.

Murtagh gave a sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Ye love her?” he asked simply.

Jamie nodded immediately and answered without hesitation. “I do.”

His godfather looked away, his eyes lifting toward the heavens.

This was it, the moment when Jamie would receive a famous Murtagh tongue lashing for his idiocy…

“Your mother…” Murtagh started, very slowly.

‘Would have disapproved’… please don’t say those heartbreaking words…

“Had the sweetest smile,” Murtagh said instead. He looked back up at Jamie, his eyes softer than he’d seen in years, “Would warm a man to the backbone jes’ to see it...” He gave himself a nod, as if reminding himself of the conviction of his next words, “Claire’s smile is jes’ as sweet.”

Jamie’s world suddenly fell entirely into place as Murtagh finally met his eyes, his godfather’s lips turning up into as much of a smile as the man ever gave.

Approval. Unspoken between them, but clear and plain as day. Murtagh gave another nod, now trying to smother the uncharacteristic smile on his face. Jamie’s excitement must have been showing plain.

“I can see it when ye look at each other, ken,” Murtagh said, clearing his throat a little, “ye love her, and she loves you.”

“Aye,” Jamie choked out, trying desperately not to fall to pieces in front of his godfather.

“I’m happy for ye, lad,” Murtagh finished. He placed a slap on Jamie’s shoulder.

Jamie gave a nod of acknowledgement, pouring all his gratitude into it, and he smiled so emotionally that his lips turned downward. Together, they walked toward the front door, and Jamie opened it for him.

“It was good to see ye, a ghoistidh,” Jamie said quietly.

“And ye, lad,” Murtagh answered.

Another moment passed between them, short but just as meaningful, and as soon as it had happened, Murtagh turned on his heel and walked out, with no more of a goodbye needed.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie was nearly bursting with joy. Quick as he could, he rushed through the room until he found Claire lingering in the kitchen.

“Sassenach,” he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

She turned toward him and had just enough time to raise her arms before he was embracing her, nearly overcome by emotion. He was so happy he was nearly shaking, and he hugged her tightly to him, squeezing her close.

“He likes you,” Jamie said, his voice nearly breaking as he spoke into her hair, “He approves of us.” He took another shaky breath before repeating, “He approves.”

***

a/n: I’m really curious if anyone reads on tumblr rather than AO3, so if you made it down here, would you drop me a comment? For research purposes? Thanks so much for reading, loves, however you choose to do it :)

#yes— another chapter!!#for your Sunday reading pleasure #🥺☺️#all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #fae claire

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

Text

“Is that drawer still available?”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 3.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This is what takes place after Joon and Daisy have their fight (sort of fight?) in “The strings are attached already.” We start with Joon’s perspective of things before moving back into Daisy’s mind. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

Oh, also, this features a bit of Yoongi, coming in clutch with some subtle-ish advice.

p.s. this also fulfills a prompt request by @bulletproof-eternally (hi love) from ages ago: “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending.”

THE beat sounding from Yoongi’s monitor was hardly even registering in Namjoon’s mind with you filling every corner of it, taking over each one of his thoughts.

Staring at the screen mindlessly, he didn’t recognize Yoongi’s voice calling for his attention until at least the fifth time the older man spoke, “Namjoon.” Eyes snapping to his work partner, Yoongi shrugged. “What do you think?”

Running his hand over his face, Namjoon sighed. “Play it again.” Without asking the questions that were present in his mind, Yoongi simply restarted the instrumental.

As the beat played on, Yoongi interjected thoughts such as, “this is where you could do your verse,” and “I’m thinking a pre-chorus by Jin and Tae here.” But at receiving no response, Yoongi paused the music and turned to Namjoon. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

“Huh?” Namjoon asked in surprise. “Nothing, I just- I’m gonna get a coffee.” Yoongi huffed, sitting back in his chair as he stared at the monitor, the unfinished beat with an impending deadline putting him on edge. “Do you want-” Namjoon started to offer as he began to stand up, but slamming his knee of Yoongi’s desk sent him right back in the chair. “Fuck!”

Yoongi looked at his younger member in concern, not sure what to do for the man. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon said dismissively and shortly.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Yoongi retorted disbelievingly. Placing a hand to the younger man’s shoulder to keep him seated, Yoongi stood and walked toward the exit. “I’ll get the coffee,” he said just before slipping through the door.

Namjoon needed to get his head on straight. Replace the relationship problems from his nonexistent relationship with concerns of work. That’s what he needed to do.

But when Yoongi returned with the coffee, and Namjoon proceeded to spill the hot liquid over his own hand, he realized removing you from his thoughts would be an impossible task. He was distracted by you and the look on your face as you tried to hold back tears. Even if they were of your own doing, they hurt him to see.

“Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Yoongi asked, beyond annoyed by his friend’s lack of focus.

“Nothing, I just need to reel my thoughts in,” Namjoon told him, trying to avoid a conversation about you with his band member who hardly knew you were a concern to be had.

“Maybe it would help to talk about it,” Yoongi suggested, feigning disinterest as he took a sip of his coffee. When Namjoon scoffed, Yoongi simply shrugged. “We’re not getting any work done anyway so,” the man said, cutting himself off as he awaited Namjoon’s next words.

“What are you meant to do when you’re seeing someone and want to make things more exclusive and official but they’re resisting?” Namjoon asked, embarrassment spreading across his cheeks in a light pink tint.

However, Namjoon didn’t realize how close the question would hit Yoongi, the older man clearing his throat as he sat up, setting his coffee down. “Uh, why do you ask?” The two guys sat in silence for a moment, Namjoon giving Yoongi a look as if to say, you know why. “So I met the reason last week,” Yoongi realized, Namjoon nodding. “It’s safe to assume you two aren’t just friends then?” Yoongi asked dumbly, Namjoon letting out a single laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” Namjoon breathed out. “Haven’t been since the first night.”

“Right,” Yoongi nodded awkwardly, acting as though he didn’t already know you and Namjoon were fucking around. “So you want to be more and she doesn’t?”

“Yup,” Namjoon nodded, staring in front of him at the beat displayed on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”

“What?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows pulled together in question at the ridiculous statement. “What are you on about?”

“I just think- Maybe she’s too good for me,” Namjoon said, rather pathetically in Yoongi’s opinion. However, the look on his face showed the older man that Namjoon was in serious doubt about his own worth.

“That’s ridiculous, you’re great,” Yoongi told the man bluntly, Namjoon looking toward his friend but avoiding his gaze. “Look, I don’t know her all that well yet, but it was obvious to every single person in the dorm last week that she likes you as much as you like her.”

“Well, I mean, that’s how it feels sometimes but then why won’t she be with me?” Namjoon asked in frustration. “She’s so confusing.”

“She is with you,” Yoongi pointed out to Namjoon with a sense of understanding. “It’s just the label that’s scaring her.”

“Scaring her?” Namjoon asked, not having totally thought of that possible conclusion himself. He knew you were holding yourself back, but he assumed it had to do him and his worthiness.

“She’s probably scared of committing for whatever reason,” Yoongi shrugged. “And it’s probably not related to you. If it is it’s probably because she doesn’t feel deserving or something, I don’t know.”

Pulling his eyebrows together in curiosity, Namjoon met his older member’s eyes. “How do you know this?”

“Experience,” Yoongi said simply before grabbing the mouse and clicking something on the screen.

Nodding slowly, Namjoon realized just how much his friend had been keeping from him. “How long have you been seeing whoever is on the other end of that phone you’re always on?” He asked with an edge of playfulness in his tone.

Trying to hold back the curve of his lips, Yoongi smiled as he continued facing the screen. “It’s new.” Namjoon smirked, happy for his member having found someone, even if he was holding out on introducing her. “But I almost fucked it up. Because she’s too good. And I thought I was undeserving.” Yoongi didn’t elaborate anymore on the subject, but Namjoon understood what he was saying.

“Well, shit,” Namjoon breathed out in realization that there was probably an entire thought process going on in his potential lover’s head that he knew nothing about. “I should probably talk to her, huh?”

Nodding, Yoongi took a glance at his younger friend. “Just ask her about it. I can almost guarantee it has nothing to do with you not being good enough,” he gave the tiniest of reassuring smiles. “It’s probably the opposite.”

Sighing deeply, Namjoon thought of you and the internal conflict that must be going on inside your head at the moment. That is until Yoongi interrupted his thoughts, pulling Namjoon’s attention back to the work that needed to be done.

“Or maybe it is you and you should just forget about this whole thing and focus on this fucking song that’s due today,” he teased in a joking tone, Namjoon letting out a light chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “Restart the track, I’m here now.”

When Namjoon left his apartment that morning, you were still there, failing to hold back tears as rain threatened to fall outside. He left you with a decision: stay and be with him, or leave, possibly for good. When he returned that afternoon, the rain was pouring, drenching his hair and clothes as the weight of your decision sat heavy in his mind.

The trek from the doors of the apartment building to the elevator had his heart racing more than usual, the fear of what he’d find, or not find, within his home suffocating the man. How would he accept the conclusion to this thing with you if you weren’t there?

Over the course of your fling, he’d come to know your heart as a hearth. The center of his home. He’d felt its warmth, the comfort and security you provided. But he also knew the bitter cold that chilled him to the bone when you locked him out. He wasn’t sure anyone else’s warmth would be able to thaw his numb existence if you walked out of his life.

Yet, reaching his apartment door, he still had hope. Because no matter how many times you’d tried to keep him at a distance, you always pulled him even closer than before. He trusted you. You’d given him a million reasons to expect disappointment, and he still believed in you.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, all he could hear was the drum of his heart pounding against his chest. Scanning the living space, his heart dropped just slightly at no trace of you. But the hope remained. You could still be in the bedroom. Or the bathroom. He felt you in there still. It didn’t feel like an abandoned home.

Calling out your name, he strode toward the bedroom, peeking inside the open door to see… emptiness. The room was filled with his belongings, as full of meaning and personality as ever, but it felt so barren. With the bathroom door down the hall open as well, his heart stopped for a moment. You were gone.

Entering the bedroom, he scanned the space, the chill of the outdoors already filling the typically warm area. Or perhaps it was the absence of you. The top drawer of his dresser, the one he offered to you, was left ajar, drawing him closer to check its contents.

If there could just be one piece of you in there, just a single item, he’d have that hope to hold onto for just a bit longer. He approached the furniture much slower than he did the bedroom, his confidence significantly faltering the longer he stood in the apartment without you there.

With his index finger, he tugged the drawer open just a bit more as he peered over the edge to look inside. A sharp exhale left him as tears instantly pricked his eyes, a lump of emotion forming in his throat. It was empty.

Placing his palm flat against the outside of the drawer, he prepared to slam it shut when the dirty clothes hamper to the side of the dresser caught his eyes. Appearing purposefully placed, sitting on top of his clothing, was your lost shirt. As if you mindlessly placed it there, unknowingly designating the domestic space as a shared one.

Slowly, he reached for the garment, lifting it out of the hamper just as the echo of the front door opening filled the otherwise silent apartment. His legs were moving him toward the bedroom door before his mind could even comprehend the situation.

He was standing in the door frame before his head and heart caught up with him. There you were, the drenched t-shirt he offered you that morning hanging off your frame, your hand clenched over the strap of a tote bag, your eyes wide as you stared at him in surprise, your chest heaving as if you ran all the way there. The sight of you simultaneously knocking the air from his lungs and filling them with life.

Lifting the tote you carried, gesturing to the contents, you sighed. “Is that drawer still available?”

Heart racing, you watched as Namjoon marched toward you, your eyes filling with tears because it was him. And he was yours. Fuck, you were terrified, but he was worth it. When his arms clasped around your waist, pulling you tightly against his frame, your arms easily wrapped around the back of his neck as you exhaled in relief.

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled against his face as you pressed repeated kisses to his cheek. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he complained lightheartedly, pulling away just enough to bring his lips to yours, pecking you softly in a quick succession.

“You’re home early,” you explained between kisses. “I meant to be here when you got back.” The man’s lips curved into a grin, his stunning dimples greeting you.

You did mean to be there. You meant to have that fucking drawer filled with your belongings. You meant to be sitting in his room when he returned, smiling at him, telling him you wanted him and you were sorry that the decision wasn’t this simple from the start but it was simple now and you were choosing him.

To be honest, the conversation with Jungkook a week ago had been weighing on your mind. He’s happy with you, Jungkook had told you. Namjoon was happy with you. And you were happy with him. It was that simple.

Resting his forehead against your own, his rapid breathing began evening out, your fingers running comfortingly along his neck. “I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark,” you apologized sincerely, a tear sliding down your face. “For giving you so many mixed signals.”

“No, no,” he quickly negated, dropping the shirt to your feet as his hands came to hold your face, his thumb wiping away the tear. “I’m sorry for putting pressure on you,” he counter-apologized, you shaking your head sadly.

“Joon, don’t do that. Don’t you dare apologize,” you cried. “You’ve been so amazing, you just- you are amazing. Like so amazing that you terrify me,” you admitted, Namjoon pulling away from you so his eyes could scan your features, his thumb catching another tear as it escaped your bottom lash line.

“I terrify you? Babe, how is that possible? You scare the living hell out of me,” he chuckled, you letting out a light laugh with him as you glanced downward.

“I gained feelings for you so easily, and-” you looked up to meet his intense gaze. “You’re so incredible, and this kind of thing,” you gestured between you both, “doesn’t always work out,” you explained, Namjoon’s stare softening in slow realization. “You’re so much to lose.”

“Babe,” he whispered empathetically, your words paralleling the talk he had with Yoongi. You weren’t holding back because Namjoon wasn’t good enough, but rather because you felt he was so good. And the thought of losing something so good was too much to bear.

“I didn’t plan on feeling this way toward you, and when it happened so quickly, I just got scared,” you sobbed, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as tears fell onto your cheeks. “If I lost you, I don’t know if I’d recover,” you told him, followed by a sniffle.

When tears formed in Namjoon’s own eyes, your heart swelled in affection and you wanted to protect him. “I just have had this persistent belief stuck in my brain that it’s better to not have something so great at all than to have it and lose it,” you explained shaking your head. “But that’s so stupid, because you’re the best and I want you, I’ve wanted you. I’m still scared but I fucking want you, Joon.”

The man didn’t say anything, instead choosing to kiss you hard, the action full of passion and understanding, his lips working perfectly against your own. Before, you wondered if you and Namjoon had met in another lifetime. In that moment, however, it felt as though you’d been waiting for this in every lifetime, or possibly fighting it, never fully getting it. Getting him. But in this moment, this lifetime, you finally got it right.

Pulling away from the kiss, Namjoon’s hands held your face as his eyes scanned your features. Letting out a breath, he wrapped his arms around your head in a hug, your face finding solace against his neck, his skin still wet but characteristically warm as always. “When I got home and you weren’t here, I could see my whole life continuing on without you and everything was,” he sighed, “cold.”

“Joonie,” you whispered, your face scrunching up in emotion.

“You make me happy,” he assured you. And there were those words again that made this whole thing so simple. “Being vulnerable around you- I’m scared too,” he admitted. “And maybe the fear of losing all of this will always be there, because we are a lot to lose. But we’re so much more to gain.”

The words sunk in slow but penetrated deep within you, his sentiment being the first time you ever thought about fear and love going hand in hand. Of course it was scary. Life is unpredictable. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live while you can, especially when something so wonderful presents itself. And with that thought in mind, you had no doubt that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

“Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?” You asked through a small smile, Namjoon loosening the hug to look at you, his lips curving up, his dimples appearing as perfect divots. “Because if so, I would really like for you to be my boyfriend.”

“Then it looks like you’re my girlfriend now,” he grinned happily, kissing your forehead gently.

“Say it again,” you whispered.

“What? You’re my girlfriend?” His eyebrows raised with the teasing question.

“Yeah,” you giggled, kissing the man’s lips tenderly. “Again.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he repeated before deepening the kiss.

Losing yourselves in the kiss, his lips on yours, your fingers threaded into his hair as you desperately tugged on the locks, Namjoon smirking against your mouth just as you lightly bit his plump bottom lip. His hands moved to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him, causing you to step forward, effectively slipping on the clothing that the man had previously dropped at your feet, your forehead hitting Namjoon’s cheekbone with a light force.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You asked, inspecting his face, Namjoon chuckling in amusement as he squeezed your hips in his grasp.

“Are you ok?” He countered, you giggling as you nodded.

“Come here, babe,” you cooed, angling his face so you could leave a few sweet kisses to his cheek. “Is that-?” You asked, looking to the floor, spotting the source of the near fall.

Bending to pick up the shirt, you let out a small gasp in surprise. “Guess where it was,” Namjoon playfully started, you pulling your eyebrows together in question. “The clothes hamper.”

“No way,” you giggled, realizing you must have put it in there with unknowing purpose. “Well, I prefer this shirt anyway,” you teased, looking down to the t-shirt Namjoon had given you to wear.

“It looks a little wet,” he said suggestively, looking down at your frame in a way that made you want to strip everything off that very second.

Shrugging, you cocked your head at him, your fingers toying with the damp strands at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you should take it off me then,” you suggested with a smirk, Namjoon immediately tugging on the material. “Yours is a little wet too, babe,” you pointed out playfully as you ran your hand down his chest.

“Well,” he looked down at his own shirt for a moment. “Would you look at that.” Laughing at his remark, you kissed him softly before smiling against his mouth.

“Hey, before we go any further with this whole taking these off,” you tugged on the fabric over his pectoral, “can we talk about something real quick?” You asked, knowing you were completely killing the mood but needing to be on the same page.

“What’s up? You ok?” He asked, a nervousness seeping into his tone and features, though he tried to appear calm.

“No, yeah, everything is fine, it’s just,” you tilted your head to the side in thought. “Can we keep this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing between us for now?” You asked, hoping the question didn’t come across in any way other than how you meant it. “I just want to take our time getting used to the label and the new terms and be able to adjust to everything that comes with this before we invite other people in.”

“Other people as in,” he started, “my members?”

“I just want to be really certain and comfortable and properly established before they know,” you said guiltily, the man smiling in amusement to your nerves.

“That’s fine, babe, I get it,” he nodded, kissing your cheek comfortingly. “Properly established,” he teased you, causing you to groan as you poked his chest in slight embarrassment.

“Stop teasing me,” you giggled. “The guys just mean a lot to you and honestly they already mean a lot to me so I just want to know exactly what we are and feel good about where we’re at before us includes all of us,” you explained unnecessarily, though it felt very necessary to you. “Does that make sense?”

“Of course it makes sense,” he assured you with a fond smile. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Grinning at him, you nodded, jokingly confirming that you did indeed know that. Namjoon laughed before kissing your lips quickly, you slightly chasing him, causing the man to flash you a smirk. “This could be fun,” he commented, you raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah?” You asked, Namjoon nodding, causing you to hum in agreement. “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers,” you said seductively, dragging your finger along his collarbone. “Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending,” you added, Namjoon chuckling at you as he pulled you closer once again, nuzzling his face against your neck. “We’re not really forbidden either but you get the vibe,” you continued, Namjoon’s breathy laugh tickling your skin.

“I get the vibe,” he confirmed humorously, you giggling as he kissed the spot on your neck a few times, you biting your bottom lip in response. “Although, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy,” he pointed out, you groaning in annoyance at him.

“I said without the ending, you said you get the vibe, Dimples,” you complained, Namjoon laughing further.

“Sorry, sorry, I get the vibe,” he playfully told you, trailing kisses along your jaw.

“I don’t think you do get the vibe,” you teased, though a small moan cut you off.

“I get the vibe, babe,” he assured just before attaching his lips to yours once again, you immediately deepening the action as you started pushing him backward toward his bedroom.

With him so close, your door wide open to his presence, a warmth spread across your body at the feeling and the realization that he was yours and you were his, and in the kind of way that you both could feel secure in being each other’s. You were still scared, but you were happy.

You never planned on meeting Namjoon, and you definitely weren’t planning to fall for the man. But standing in his apartment, in his embrace, you found yourself feeling as though you were home. As unexpectedly as Namjoon entered your life, he never felt foreign. In fact, he’d felt familiar since the first night you spent with him. Just now, you were finally allowing yourself to make yourself at home, take your coat and shoes off, well, and the rest of your clothes, and even leave them in his dirty clothes hamper. Because you were finally home.

And you’d finally fill that fucking drawer.

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