#maybe my dream of changing someone’s mind on the internet will finally come true | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nojey · 4 years ago

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fans

dream x streamer!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): cursing, failed relationship, throwing things out of anger

synopsis: (y/n) and dream met through a mutual friend and their own friendship begins to blossom on its own. they start talking more and more and the feelings they have for one another grows so much more than either of them imagined. but as they stream together, they realize how much hate they’ve started to get and rethink whether or not they should be together or not.

looking back on it, meeting dream was one of the best days of your life. that day, your friend, sapnap, had introduced you to one of his friends and from that day forward, a beautiful relationship bloomed. not a single one of either of your viewers knew you two had become friends and it was nice; keeping something to yourself from a whole community that knew almost everything about you. you both went from talking every once in a while, to every week, to every other day, to almost all day, everyday. you grew to know pretty much everything about each other, where he grew up, how his childhood was like, everything from his favorite color to what he feared the most. and as you got to know him more, your feelings for him just grew so much more than you had ever imagined. and you hoped he felt the same way about you.

when he asked you if you wanted to facetime, you were shocked. you guys were only ever either in a discord call, regular call, or texting. granted it had been about 7 months since you both became friends, but you didn’t need to know what he looks like. you like him for the person he is, how caring and attentive he is to his friends, how witty his personality is and how cocky and confident he is. you like him for the passion he has in his heart for the people and things he loves. you never had to see his face to know these things about him. but because you knew this was a big step in your friendship, you accepted. him even asking you to facetime meant so much to you.

he called you with his phone facing the ceiling and you had propped up yours so your upper body was on full display. “clay, you know you don’t have to show me your face? if you’re not ready to, you don’t have to.” you told him. “i’m more than ready to show you what i look like, (y/n). you’re an important person in my life and i want to show you.” he replied. “okay.. if you’re really sure. i just hope you know that whatever you look like, it will not change my opinion of you.” you assured him. “i know, (y/n).” he chuckled. “which is how i know i’m ready to show you.” you smiled. your heart warmed knowing that he trusts you this much. “whenever you’re ready, clay.” you said. “close your eyes,” he said. you did what he asked of you and you heard shuffling. he let out a breath, grabbed his phone and propped it up so you could see his face.

“you can open your eyes now.” he said. you slowly opened your eyes and your breath got caught in your throat as you fully saw him. “wow..” you whispered, still examining his face. “you’re really pretty, clay.” he started blushing and said, “stop staring, you’re just going to fall in love with me.” laughing a bit. you started blushing too and looked away. both your reasons for blushing may have been different, but you knew you were blushing because what he said was true.

for the rest of the night you both stayed up until 3am talking about anything and everything, getting to know each other more than you already did.

the day you both streamed together was about 4 months later. the internet went crazy. your viewers and his had absolutely no idea you two had known each other but they saw the way you two talked to each other; they knew you sounded like you were talking to your soulmate. you didn’t have to watch what you said, you laughed out to your hearts content, you both teased each other in such a flirtatious manner that it didn’t take them long to start thinking you guys were in a relationship.

but with the people who supported you, there were twice as many people who hated the idea of you two together. at first it was bearable, neither of you cared about the hate because you were happy with where you both were with each other. clay was confident that you felt the same way about him that he had for you. he fell in love with you and you knew you had fallen in love with him too.

a few weeks after your first stream together, he asked you if you wanted to fly to florida to meet him in person and you immediately said yes. you started packing your bags and by next week, you were on your way to meet the guy of your dreams.

when you landed, he was already there waiting for you and when you got to baggage claim you saw him and immediately recognized him. you ran up to him and gave him the tightest hug ever; you were finally in his arms. the height difference was evident and he had to lean down a bit to hug you but he felt so content with you being there, in his arms.

“you’re really here..” he whispered. “i’m here, clay. i’m here.” you assured. tears started slowly falling down your face and you buried your face deeper into his chest, taking in the warmth that was filling you. clay started crying too, thinking how lucky he was to be able to hold you close to him.

the day after you flew in was the one year mark of you two becoming friends so you went out to celebrate. throughout the day you guys reminisced back to the nights you both stayed up till the sun rose just talking and created new memories as you adventured through orlando. when it was around 3pm clay drove you to the beach to witness the sunset and you arrived just when the sun was kissing the water. you looked around the beach and saw no one but a beautiful set up with roses on the sand. you looked at clay with a surprised expression, he smiled, took your hand and lead you to where the roses laid. he brought you to stand in the middle of it and took both your hands in his,

“(y/n), when sapnap introduced us i never knew you would be such an important person in my life and i couldn’t be more grateful for you. you have helped me through my darkest times, celebrated with me in my happiest, been patient with me when i was being insufferable, stood by me during the most boring days and acted like you were having a blast when it was only just us talking. you’ve shown me that i can let myself be who i am without caring what any other person had to say about me. there’s so many words that i can’t put together right now because that’s how you make me feel. you make me feel so nervous when i’m around you and all the words in my head just get mixed up and i never know what to say. but i do know that right now, i’m trying to ask you on a date. so (y/n), will you go on a date with me?” by the time he was done with his speech you were close to tears. “of course i’ll go on a date with you clay.”

the night of your date had been the most magical night of your life. in the day you both went to disneyworld and at night he brought you to a hill top to, once again, watch the sunset while you both ate dinner on the hood of the rental car he got. everything was so perfect, it was the best date you’ve ever went on.

he was an absolute gentleman, not letting you pay for your things, opening the door for you, pulling you closer to him when someone got too close to you, treating you like you were a princess and you couldn’t have asked for a better guy to be with.

after you both finished your dinner you just laid down on the hood of the car and stared at the stars, talking about a future you wish had come true. that night you shared a kiss that would be remembered through the horrid months to come.

the day you left orlando, you didn’t think it would be the last time you ever saw clay in person. when you got home you talked like normal, already speaking about a second date the next time either you or he visited. you both missed each other like crazy and you believed you would see each other very soon.

you streamed together more often and no one was blind to the smitten words you both shared, to the adoration dripping in your voices. so many people hated it and you never understood why, was it because they thought you weren’t good enough for him? because they were so protective over him? did they just hate you? so many questions filled your mind when your phone ringing brought you out of it. you reached for your phone and saw that clay wanted to facetime. you answered with a smile on your face, “hi clay!” but it soon dropped when you saw the solemn look that fell upon his. “is everything okay?” you asked. he sighed and said, “we need to talk.”

and everything fell apart.

the next words that came out of his mouth broke your heart. “i don’t think we should continue dating, or maybe even being friends.” you could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked around your room, trying to understand why this would come up all the sudden. “what do you mean?” you asked, slightly laughing hoping he was playing some sick joke on you. but when you kept looking at his serious face, you understood he wasn’t and your tears finally fell. he looked at you and his eyes glossed over.

it hurt him knowing he was hurting you; the most important person in his life, the person he believed he would get married to and grow old with, the person he stayed up, losing sleep for just to get to know because you were worth that and a million more.

“i know you see all the hate we’re getting. and that’s only us streaming together. what happens when they find out we went on a date or if we do start dating, what would the fans say?” he said, no longer looking at you through his screen. “why do you care about what they’ll say about us?” you whispered. “look at me, please.” he slowly looked back at the screen to see your face full of tears and that’s what finally broke him.

“our fans. they hate seeing us together, we can’t disappoint them. we can’t dissatisfy them. i know your fans mean the world to you and mine mean the world to me too.” he said, wiping his tears away, wishing he could just wipe yours, kiss your cheek and tell you everything would be okay. “but we can make it work, we won’t stream together as much or at all anymore. we can be like how we were before they knew we were friends! we can make it work clay..” you said. he started getting frustrated, just wanting this to be over with so he didn’t have to see you so hurt anymore.

“i can’t keep going on with my fans hating the relationship i’m in (y/n)! i can’t keep seeing my fans hate you because of me! i can’t keep making my fans mad at me because i have a stupid little crush on you!” he raised his voice. the last sentence hurting you more than anything. and he saw that in your facial expression, immediately regretting it.

“no, (y/n). i- i didn’t mean it like tha-” you cut him off. “a stupid little crush? is that all i was to you clay? a stupid little crush? so what, that whole year we spent getting to know each other was you just having a stupid little crush on me? you asking me to fly to forida to meet you, was that you just having a stupid little crush on me? me actually flying all the way to florida to meet you, did you think i just had a stupid little crush on you? did you think me saying yes to going on a date with you was me just having a stupid little crush? what, did that date mean nothing to you? did that kiss mean nothing? did you not mean anything you said to me the night you asked me on that date? because i meant every single thing i said to you clay. you’ve impacted my life so much in such a good way, but i guess you didn’t feel the same way. was i just a joke? just someone to play with while you were bored?” you asked, not wanting to believe what he was saying.

“no, that’s not what i meant.” he sighed. “then why can’t we work things out!? i don’t understand, clay. if you really did mean everything you told me on that beach then why aren’t you trying harder for us?” you asked, disappointment dripping through your voice. “because i just don’t think we’d work out okay!” he yelled at you. neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. he saw the nasty glare and look of hurt wash over your face. “that’s all you needed to tell me.” you whispered.

you hung up and as soon as the call was disconnected you sobbed. you cried your eyes out. the guy you were in love with made you believe he wasn’t in love with you. you were absolutely devastated and you didn’t know if you’d ever be as happy as you were with him.

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in florida, sat a man with his phone clutched in his hands, tears streaming down his face that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon. he whispered, “what have i done?” he screamed, he threw things, broke picture frames, punched the wall. but doing all those things would never bring you back to him.

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twitter

(y/n): hey everyone! i think i’m going to take a break from streaming and all social media for a few months. i don’t really want to go into detail right now but maybe if i come back i’ll explain everything. until then i hope all of you stay healthy and hopefully i come back eventually, i love you all :]

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authors note:

you guys!! there will be a part 2, send me an inbox or a message if you want to be on the tag list !!

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mrwinterr · 4 years ago

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So Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: After a night with your favorite artist, you’re left wondering where you both really stand.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual, but unprotected sex, oral [male & female receiving], vaginal penetration and fingering, size kink and dirty talk). Language. Light mentions of substance abuse. Lying asses. Internet toxicity (I hate it here sometimes). Angst, I guess...TIME SKIP...and absolute horrendous fluff (that’s not my brand, alright).

Disclaimer: You can read part 1 here! It would make some sense.

A/N: This follow-up is still based on some true events. Can’t hate the players, hate the game. For the most part it’s made up because some of us deserve the ending we think we deserve. I’m dedicating this to @shawnie--jo for all the love, enthusiasm and the patience because this took me a while. It’s a doozy! & with that note, enjoy!

“You owe me,” is the first thing you hear your friend say the moment you stepped foot back into the hotel you had booked for the night before. It was in a much different tone than of the one she had in line for the concert.

Frozen in place, you turn your attention to her sitting figure on one of the single couches of the lobby. She wasn’t happy that much you could tell judging by the expression on her face and the way she sat impatiently, one leg over the other and her arms crossed against her chest.

The bag next to hers on the ground adjacent to her feet were your belongings. The way it was misshapen suggested she had hastily shoved your things back in it for you. She must’ve been in a rush to leave before checking out or…

“You owe me $50 for the late check out fee,” she clarifies, ceasing all thoughts of why she was currently pissed at you.

Now begins the walk of shame. It wasn’t something you were used to. Could you even call this that? You had no reason to feel ashamed because you were completely aware of last night’s events. You defended your decision as so! Then why did you feel this way?

Perhaps it had to do with you just now returning to the hotel you were supposed to have been checked out of hours ago, but instead you’re greeted to your more than displeased best friend staring daggers at you for a different reason.

Sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of your neck, when you’re close enough to her, you open your mouth to begin apologizing, but she wasn’t done as she got up on her feet to level with you.

“You said you would be back before check out,” she said voice slowly rising in volume, no matter the distance between you two was close or not, you could tell this was just the start of a catalyst, “and it’s...oh,” she stops to look down at her phone, which shined bright revealing her lock screen and more importantly the time, “...only three hours past check out!” Yup, not happy with you at all.

“I know you’re upset,” you start with the obvious, “and you have the right to be. I said I would be back in time, but I wasn’t,” maybe admitting you were wrong would allow her to see you were indeed aware of your mistakes, soften the blow to come a little bit.

“Upset? I’m disappointed!” she says, her arms falling to her sides and with a look of disbelief but is quickly washed over with indisposition. “Some sell-out rockstar invites you over to see him and you lose your sense of mind?”

“Look, I’ll pay you back. It’s no big deal.” At least on your end, you’re trying to remain calm even when her tone and choice of words get under your skin. You didn’t need this weekend to end on a bad note.

“This isn’t about the money!” She proclaimed.

“Then why are you bitching at me? I’m a grown adult! I know what I did-” Yeah, at least you were trying to stay composed, right?

“Do you?” She challenges. It’s one of those rhetorical questions, in which she didn’t need an answer to, but you were still going to give her one.

“Yes, ok. I slept with Bucky and I don’t regret it.”

The defense you put up so quickly around you weren’t something your friend was used to witnessing...maybe to your parents, yeah, but not at her. Sure, you’ve both had the occasional quarrels, but your relationship and sexual life was different because she really cared for your wellbeing and would be damned if someone hurt you.

“I’m just worried,” she admits for her initial brute front, “what you did was totally unlike you and I…”

“What?” You interrupt her, growing more tired of this conversation by the second.

“I don’t trust Bucky.” She blurts out.

You scoff at that reasoning, “you don’t know him-”

“And you do?” This time she interrupts and catches you off guard on that one. “You’re right. I don’t know him, but you said it yourself. Bucky meets tons of people every day. He’s on the road a lot. It’s easy for him to get lonely.”

There it was again. The self-conscious thoughts questioning everything about last night’s events. In a pathetic display of defense, you start counter-questioning her with some of the statements Bucky said to you. Why would he tell you all those sweet things and pretty promises if he knew he could have you so easily? Why would he think you weren’t like the other women out there who exposed their escapades for their 15 minutes of fame? What made him think anything of you? There were other girls in the crowd.

“He’s going to tell you things he wants you to hear to get what he wants.” She really believed that. She knew what some men were capable of. She had more experience than you and you often turned to her for things like this.

Her last sentence was something to let sink in. The way last night played out and the last few hours you spent with Bucky; you were blinded by a rose tint world.

Earlier that morning...

“You know,” Bucky starts with his gaze first set on your face, slowly starting to drift down your body trying to catch a glimpse of uncovered skin that the blanket was doing a horrible job in concealing. You watch with bubbling desire the way he bit his bottom lip and eyes growing darker, ”...if you ever need anything. I’m here to help. I can get you out of that town and you can stay with me in Brooklyn. We’ll find you a place to work in that’ll appreciate you more.”

He was a dream. He was so sweet, but you weren’t going to deny it. As much as you adored what little you knew about the real Bucky, a part of you that was always so careful was also skeptical. That voice in the back of your mind, whether it was your parents, teachers in the past, PSA spokespersons or your best friend, was still trying to tell you Bucky wasn’t an exception.

Then on the other hand, you were finally getting what you wanted. You weren’t a little girl anymore. You could take care of your own heart. Why couldn’t you have some fun? Indulge a little. Life is too short to sit around and wait. If he was serious about any of the things he said, then great! If not, oh well, you’ll live. What’s life without experience, right?

You just never imagined any of the harmless mentions or replies through social media were going to get you in bed with him and so smitten.

When Bucky pulls his lips away from you, he repositions himself on the bed to lie on his back and bask in the comfortable silence. You’re still on your side, but your eyes suddenly widen as you curiously take a peek over his frame and notice the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. The curtains were drawn shut, so you had no trace of the actual time of day.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, but was no use. It was just you and Bucky in the room and he’d definitely wonder why you’d grown frantic.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?” He says slowly sitting up, still exhausted, and watching you throw the hotel comforter over your body to get out of bed. You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of him. He’d have a souvenir to remember you by.

The sex tape was the least of your worries though. You fucking missed check out! You can only imagine the look on your friend’s face when you reunite.

“I missed check out,” you respond while momentarily being thrown off course in search of your underwear, but then instantly remembering how Bucky tore it off of you, and you did your best to push aside last night’s activities.

“What?” He asks, rubbing his face trying to rid himself of sleep. He had to get going too. The band was off to play in the next city in some hours. Unfortunately, you didn’t have enough time to take off from work to follow him.

“The hotel I’m staying at. I missed check out and my friend is going to be so pissed at me,” you explained beaten. You can’t for the life of you see where your clothes were in the dark room.

Drawing the curtains open or switching the light on without warning wouldn’t be ideal to the both of you and not only that, the effects of the substances your body was coursed through, the physicality of you and Bucky’s actions last night, the consequence of it all topped with the lone fact that you’re now standing naked in front of Bucky starts to seep in.

You try not to stand there awkwardly and do the only thing you can do. Inhibition creeping back in, you cover your face with your hands and breath in and out, hoping the floor would swallow you whole so you could escape this embarrassment and your friend’s pending wrath.

“Look,” Bucky says now in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, he’s naked too, washing away some traces of vulnerability away, “you’re already late. You can’t change that. We can only keep moving forward,” he says, his arms slipping around your body to pull you close to his.

The sudden jolt from the skin-to-skin contact quickly subsides with the warmth of his body transferring onto yours. You hold onto his biceps and nod in acceptance. Any attempt to rush back to your hotel wasn’t going to do you any favors now.

“So then, what do you say we get cleaned up and try to enjoy our time together?” The way his head tilted to the side, a not-so-subtle hint in the direction of the shower in the bathroom, his smooth voice and his eyes half-lidded, ready to get lost in you one more time.

You said it yourself, life was short, so if you already knew your friend was going to chew you out, why deny yourself of its pleasures right now, especially if it’s coming from Bucky.

“Can we just get going? We’ll catch traffic on the way back to the city if we just stand here and keep putting each other down,” you ask, slightly shaking your head of the early morning activities and straightening yourself up, bending forward to pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

This little spat would eventually pass. None of the arguments you two had were ever threatening to your friendship with each other. You’ve both fought over things much more critical that it’d be a shame to let it be over someone like Bucky.

Before you could turn back around to exit, your friend grabs a hold of your arm and stops you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I could be wrong. Bucky could be the one, but I want you to be smart about doing whatever you end up doing with him. I just want you to ultimately be happy,” she says wholeheartedly.

You knew she was only coming from a good place. She only ever encouraged you to do your best and the right thing. She was the one you sought out advice from and she never led you astray. In the end, you knew you couldn’t ever truly be mad at her. You owed her more than $50 alone.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know your intentions are in the right place and I really appreciate you for everything. You even agreed to come to this show with me! But I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes along the way,” you say and notice the fallen look on her face, but you don’t give her long enough to feel sorry for you with your follow up statement, “...if I get hurt, it’s going to suck, but I’ll get back up, learn from it and move on. Plus, I’ll have you there by my side to tell you I told you so...again, and we both know how much you enjoy that!” You end it on a joking note.

A look of hope creeps back in on your friend and she’s pleased to see your resilient attitude again. You give her your best steadfast smile and it seemingly proved to be successful enough for her to accept your answer as she pulls you in for a warm hug.

You wonder, what Bucky’s motive was? He was Bucky Barnes. He could have anyone. Why did he trust you enough to be intimate with? What was his game? You just had to keep telling yourself for your sanity and wellbeing, with or without Bucky, in the end you’d still be happy.

The months to follow after that tour, you and Bucky had continued to stay in touch. You genuinely felt happy. He was giving you attention! From daily texts and long phone conversations or video calls, some rather suggestive than most, you were able to really learn a lot about each other. While you minded his glamorous lifestyle, each interaction erased all notions of it and he was just another normal human being.

If you were being truthful, a part of you was hoping whatever the two of you had was exclusive. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were in a way reserving yourself for Bucky because you felt there was something between you two and maybe he was just like you and too shy to be the one to bring it up first.

At times you’d find yourself being the one to initiate conversation...especially when the communication started becoming less frequent. They then reduced to just Holiday texts and suddenly they’d become unresponsive and you’d even be left on read. He never flew you to Brooklyn. He never followed you back on social media. You’d accepted he was most likely busy and the excuse of not wanting to attract unwanted attention to you, but the reality of it was he had seemed to move on.

It’d been close to a year and things were really quiet. The Avengers hadn’t released anything new nor did they have an upcoming tour to rehearse for. You’re trying to not let Bucky’s silence bug you and do what you’ve always told yourself - keep living your life. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were angry at first for letting him get to you like that and realize that boys will be boys. They would never grow a real pair and be straight with women. They always had to go and sugarcoat everything. You had to accept it. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. You were just a one-night stand and the worst part of it was that you consented to it, so you couldn’t hold anything against him.

Things picked back up in your life, work demanded more of your time and you were dating again, taking it very slow and casual. You knew nothing more would come out of it, but it was enough to distract you from Bucky. Life was slowly returning back to normal, even though it never truly could be, until you notice Bucky is posting regularly on his social media accounts again.

It’s not so much that but is one of the comments from another user that is a constant in each sporadic post. You recognize the user as an international model from another country. Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to check out her profile, noting all the photos of them together and realizing that while you thought Bucky went M.I.A., he was spending his free time getting cozy with her in exotic places.

Her comments start out harmless in the beginning, but quickly become more and more persistent until one sets the record straight. It read, “that’s MY man” followed by a number of heart eye emojis.

You didn’t even know Bucky and the model knew of each other, but why wouldn’t they? He was exposed to extraordinary people, so finding someone in the business was a better bet than settling with you. They lived in a totally different world than yours.

There’s a plethora of thoughts that run through your mind. This is why he isn't responding to you. He had a girlfriend, who was in a much different league than of your own, and he didn’t really go public with it on his end. It made you sad, that much you could admit to yourself because you held back for him, but you weren’t going to admit this feeling to him or your friend or the world. You were going to prove to them you’d do the same thing - move on.

It’s a rather slow day at work and you’ve resulted in mindlessly scrolling through your Facebook newsfeed, but growing tired of lame memes and life updates from people you haven’t spoken to since high school, you switch over to Twitter for a more different kind of news and also a bit of some entertainment.

You’re not expecting the particular topic to be trending - #BuckyBarnesIsCancelled. You’d manage to move on from whatever it was between you and Bucky and returned back to your daily routine. You tried to remain a fan of The Avengers, but it wasn’t the same. The fling, if you could call it, with Bucky wouldn’t let you. You’d always be grateful for how their music impacted your life, but you’d have to keep living your life despite what transpired.

Sitting up from your slumped position in your office chair, you ponder for maybe two seconds before clicking on the hashtag. Things were still pretty quiet with The Avengers, with the exception of paparazzi photos here and there, but this seemingly came out of nowhere. What stupid thing did he get himself into?

“No way,” you mock at the headline. Claims of Bucky being mentally abusive, and an addict were being made left and right.

You scrolled through the timeline and threads of replies to find the source of it all and you were shocked that it came from none other than his own girlfriend...well now ex-girlfriend you assumed. The vindictive side of you only allowed a small part in finding some humor in this, but if Bucky was any bit of the Bucky you spent the night with and got to know for those few short months then this was sad for him.

There wasn’t much you could do though. What were you to do? Send him a message of condolences of some sort? He’d probably just leave you on read. Whatever you two had was long over.

Bucky’s agency did well to defend him and save his reputation. They released one statement to clear things up. There’d been images before of him partying and no doubt high on some substance, but that didn’t prove he was an addict. Then again, did you ever really know him? You’d been exposed to that stuff around and because of him. Some people just had more access to certain things than others did.

In some time, when things leveled out once more, he seemed to be back in the clear, but at a rate where people have already decided whose story they believed over the other, whose side they were on, the damage had been done. If there was a recurring theme here, Bucky had one thing to do after the scandal - move on with his life.

It felt a little strange being here again. If you take into consideration some of the things that had already happened, a lot has really changed since you were last in a line to see The Avengers live.

The band had taken a short hiatus to let the fire die out from Bucky’s scandal. It was probably a smart move - to let people cool their jets and forget. It was last reported Bucky had turned a new leaf...something about getting help. Steve took time off to focus on other projects...something about humanitarian work. Sam released some solo stuff...something with a different sound, but still as successful. The time off was probably the best for the guys.

There weren’t as many people it seemed, but enough for them to play in one of the city’s largest venues. You suppose that’s what a span of three years could do to an artist. When the tour was announced you weren’t sure if you should buy a ticket or not, but it’d been some time since you had a night where you could forget about the stresses of the world for a few hours. Never mind the short stint between you and Bucky, you were still a fan of their music and the joyous feeling you got from it was timeless.

This time you were alone. You didn’t even tell your friend they were touring again. Bucky was almost a nonexistent topic for a good while now. Plus, she had her own life to live and couldn’t always be there next to you. You were the bigger fan after all. On top of that, she would’ve most likely have advised against you attending.

Your attire was not to impress, electing on something casual and comfortable with a simple pair of jeans, a leather jacket over a nice top that did a better job at controlling your cleavage than the last one, and cute boots. Yeah, a lot had changed, but the scene didn’t as there were still a mix of fans, old and new, over and under dressed.

The guys still had it. They looked great! They definitely belonged on the stage for the world to see. They even played a 3-song encore. You could tell they loved doing what they did and anyone who was a fan could feel the passion and energy they poured out in the performance.

You’re currently sitting in the seat of your car, head resting against the headrest as you try to unwind a little from standing for a few hours and from the walk back to the parking garage when your phone vibrates and chimes loudly.

You glance over at the device you placed next to the driving console and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the name that appeared. Bucky Barnes. You’d never deleted his number and his text message thread had remained at the very bottom of your messaging app all this time. A sense of apprehension flows through you as you wonder what he could possibly want. How do you just text someone after ghosting them for over a year? Not to mention to someone you did something so intimate with and made all those promises to in the past. How does one do that?

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer or slip into restless thoughts about Bucky again because it wasn’t a walk in the park to forget about him, you open the text. It asks if you were in attendance because he claimed to have seen you in the crowd. This time around you’re not overthinking about what to respond with, you simply say yes. He’d been quick with his next message asking if you were still in the area to meet up.

The wise thing would probably be to reject the invite, but you find yourself once again staring at a hotel door waiting for him to open it. Initially, you’d suggested he tell you what he wanted to say via text, but he said it was something that had to be told in person. So, having been through what you had as a result of meeting up with him in the past, you had some sense of mind this time, you’d just have to make another mental note to not jump into bed with him again. If you were being truthful to yourself, the sex tape left you feeling a little cheap. He didn’t even send it to you as some form of fucked up courtesy or assure you that it wasn’t ever going to get leaked and luckily it hasn’t. You hoped he’d deleted it.

It was almost like Deja vu. You might as well have been reliving the night the first time Bucky invited you over to his hotel room. In the beginning it was kind of awkward and quiet, and it was exactly that years later, just with added history of course.

You’d chosen to sit on the end of one of the beds while Bucky moved slowly around the room trying to gather his thoughts and where to start. He notices the change in you. You were more confident and as you should be. Bucky Barnes couldn’t intimidate you this time. He had more to be embarrassed about than you did now.

Even though you had nowhere to be in the morning, it was getting late and you really would just like to get this meeting over with and Bucky was stalling.

“Bucky, why did you invite me here?” You say, the one to break the ice. He finally stops fidgeting around and focuses on you.

“I...I wanted to apologize,” he starts off, and you’re unmoving silence allows him to continue, “I realize how much of a complete dick I was to you…”

“What do you mean?” You ask. It’s not like he spread any dirty rumors about you or anything. He didn’t need to apologize for anything that you’re aware of. Maybe for leading you on, but you came to terms some time ago that maybe he didn’t owe you an explanation or perhaps you’d never get one. Yet here you both are.

“I used you,” he explains, now you’re confused, and he can see you’re not getting it entirely, which pains him. You didn’t think anything he did with you was wrong because you consented to it. It took two to tango, right?

Except it wasn’t like that at all and he wanted you to know how he strung you along all just for a quick fuck in the beginning and to cover his tracks he acted like he cared in getting to know you afterwards not realizing something purely good could come out of it for him. The confession wasn’t meant to hurt you again, but for you to realize your worth. He messed up with someone so special.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I remembered you from years before when you tripped in front of me,” there’s a small trace of happiness in the fond memory, “...and when I saw you in the crowd that night, fuck you looked so good and you still do…” he ended up a flustered mess after that small admission.

“Where is this going?” You ask hoping he’d get back on track and reveal the rest, trying to keep the fact he admitted an attraction to you in the back of your mind.

“Right...I’ll admit my ego got the best of me. The band was doing so well, everyone noticed us! I was getting attention from all kinds of people! I got hooked to different things,” suppose those articles were true then about him getting clean, you thought to yourself, “...it does get lonely on the road and I was so desperate for anyone,” oh you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t say what he was going to say next, but he does, “...and I knew there wouldn’t be that much effort on my part to get you to sleep with me.”

Great. Your friend was right then, and he was just like any other house name artist.

“Um...okay, that’s not something I was wanting to hear about myself,” you said after letting that sink in. Did you still appear to look easy?

“No, I’m sure it’s not, but when we were alone together everything was just easy-”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m easy!” You interrupt, and now you’re angry. As he’s trying to explain his actions, you started thinking about how mad and hurt you were when he started ghosting you. You couldn’t be upset about him getting a girlfriend, but the fact that he didn’t think he could continue even being your friend and instead just chose to ignore you was the better option was hella annoying.

“That’s not what I meant!” He says trying to justify his choice of words.

“Then how did you mean it?” You demand, and Bucky is a bit stunned with your new attitude. He foresaw that he would have a difficult time in explaining himself, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard dealing with how much his actions affected you.

“Everything was easy with you because you made it easy to feel,”

“I don’t know if I understand,” you say and attempt to get up, “...maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No, please. Let me finish,” Bucky is quick to get in front of you as he pleads for you to stay. You give him a slight nod and sit back down.

“Things with you were easy in a sense that being around you I was able to just be myself. I’ve never said those things to girls before you! I didn’t have to impress you with anything flashy. I even forgot I was some rockstar! You’re an incredible person, really-”

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I just can’t,” you say, hating to interrupt him again, but you’re not ready to hear any of this, “...none of this still doesn’t sound right. It was just one night and then how do you explain just ghosting me the moment you get a supermodel girlfriend?” that last part came out unintentionally feisty but might as well let him know how you’d felt, “You couldn’t even be my friend when you were with her! I guess it was easy to just forget me too…”

Bucky lowers his head ashamed of how he handled that and just nods in acknowledgement of his actions, “you’re right. It doesn’t make sense, but what I feel is even harder to explain...”

“None of this accounts for her,” you demand. A part of you just wanted to know where she came from. How did it happen? Who asked who out? It wasn’t important information to know about, but the urge of human curiosity was large.

“She wasn’t even my idea,” he muttered, not really wanting to talk about her.

“What?” You ask.

“Getting with her was the label’s idea,” he admits, hating he was coerced into the idea of an on-screen relationship.

You scoff at the stupidity of fake relationships in the Entertainment industry. Why did people get their rocks off over it? Were OTPs really that a big deal? Are people so bored with their own lives that they have to push corporate into bringing two people who don't have feelings for each other together? However, Bucky thinks you don’t believe him and given how little you developed in trusting him with things, he’s not entirely wrong.

“I know it was a dumb thing to agree to and it’s one of the horrors working in this business, but I know now I should’ve just been forward with you,” Bucky says, voice still riddled begging for forgiveness.

“Why couldn’t you then?” You interrogate and notice the creases of distress on his face soften. “If I made it so easy to feel, then why wasn’t it just that to tell me the truth?”

“I-I don’t know,” he replies.

“Yes, you do,” you retort, and pretend you’re going to leave, but by doing so you know it’ll only get him to spill the beans quicker.

“I was scared!” He admits, stepping in front of you and keeping you still in your place on the end of the bed.

“Scared? Of what? Me?” You ask incredulously looking up at him.

“Yes!” He says and kneels down in front of you. “You’re so perfect! You’re real! You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity. You didn’t even participate when people started cancelling me or whatever! You could’ve and you had every right to expose me, but you didn’t!” Your act did the trick, because the words just kept coming out of Bucky.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you, for not telling you I was with her, but the more I got to know you, a part of me got really scared that I couldn’t keep being the kind of man you deserved because of my problems,” by this point, Bucky has placed both his hands on either side of you, his arms trapping you, “...trust me, I had a lot of time to think about everything I did wrong and what harm my reckless lifestyle has on others…I just feared it was already too late, but the one thing that I always thought about that helped me get through it was the lone night I had with you. I was so happy! I wanted that again...I had to get back to that, so I invited you back to try,” you didn’t even realize how close his face was to yours. He looked so torn and you hated seeing him like that, but there was nothing you could say that could fix things right now.

Bucky now felt vulnerable and almost pathetic. Just because he wanted another shot of happiness, and with you of all people, what made it okay for him to think you wanted to try again? You weren’t so certain of what you wanted with him anymore.

“Wow,” is all you give. You’re not sure what more you could add. After all that, he actually liked you? Were you still sure you weren’t living in some fanfic world? You needed some time to think about that and much to Bucky’s expectations, you weren’t going to come to a conclusion before you left this room tonight.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” You offer him the floor, and he gets it. You’re not going to say anything particular to his confession, at least not now. He’s not upset at all. It was a lot to take in. He had time to think, and he had to respect the time you’d need now.

He nods and backs away, realizing the close proximity, “just one question,” you nod this time and let him ask, “do you regret it?”

You know what he’s referring to, sleeping with him, the sex tape, the countless conversations, meeting with him right now - everything.

“No,” you answer honestly.

He lets out a weak smile, looking down sheepishly and adds, “I’ve never done anything like this with anyone before, I promise.”

He could promise and swear up and down all he’d like, but how could you be really sure? The only response you could give him is a small, neutral hum in acknowledgement.

Bucky knew this conversation wasn’t going to go as he had hoped. He really didn’t have a plan, he just really wanted to see you again. He goes silent and you know at this point, everything was all laid out. Time would tell the rest if this was worth saving.

“I can forgive you. I know I can because in a way part of moving on allows one to do so but completing a session or doing time in rehab doesn’t really prove anything,” you said brutally honest with him, he looks up at you almost defeated and just waiting for the final blow.

“You said a lot of promising things back then and you said a lot more tonight,” you add on, and gently begin to remove his hands from the spots either side of you to let you free, and get up to head out, however not with one more thing he could reflect on, also giving him hope, “...you need to show you’ve really changed,” then the conversation was over.

In some ways, these events needed to happen. He had to hit rock bottom to learn from his mistakes and kick out the bad habit. He knew now that he had to work hard to give you a reason to trust him and maybe even in the long run be with him.

On the other hand, you had to go through this whole thing in order to not base your happiness on someone else. You could be happy on your own and open enough to be with someone that wasn’t Bucky.

For the next few months, to your surprise, Bucky had actually made an effort to keep in touch with you. It wasn’t overbearing and he minded your space as well as he could from a distance, given that he was still busy with the band and other duties that came with his status.

While at times he could be flirty, you learned it was part of his charm. Your friend wasn’t entirely thrilled when you’d admitted to her that you visited Bucky that night. You might’ve not shown it, but she knew how much his past actions affected you. Granted it did its job in teaching you a lesson and in return allowed you to be more confident and to not take anyone’s bullshit, she’d be damned if Bucky tried to pull another act like that around you again.

By now, you were comfortable enough with him to even tell him about random dates you’d gone on; none proving to be long-term, but it was nice to confide in someone else other than your best friend and get an opinion from a male perspective.

You weren’t going to lie, there was a part of you that still liked Bucky more than a friend, but you weren’t sure when it was okay to willingly go all in again with him. Sure, you’d given him another chance, but just how low could people really go to get what they wanted? Some people could just be really manipulative, and you weren’t wanting to ruin what you’ve both rebuilt for yourselves. Either way, you’d be happy with him in your life even as a friend, which is how it could’ve gone if he’d been honest from the get-go.

The year was coming to a close and you’re at your job’s annual Christmas party. You’d managed to convince your friend to be your plus one, but she claimed she didn’t need bribery because your company always ordered outstanding catering and who in their right mind would turn down free food anyways?

Aside from pretending you were having a great time talking to your co-workers, most of which whom you barely spoke to at the office and as faux-friendly as they were tonight, you felt stupid for glancing at your phone every now and then hoping to get a message from Bucky. He’d been keeping you entertained the first half of the party until he just stopped responding.

Your friend had ditched you to take advantage of the open bar several minutes ago, so you were sitting at a table alone trying not to look pathetic. You started thinking of when an appropriate time would be to leave when the Market Manager of your job took the mic. Too late, you thought to yourself and decided to get comfortable in your seat and listened to what cheesy Holiday speech they had to give, but what you hadn’t expected was a surprise guest.

“What the hell?” You said to yourself as you watched Bucky, Steve and Sam shake hands with one of your bosses before settling into what would appear as an acoustic performance.

How’d they manage to get in contact with your job? Who gave them the in? Bucky knew what you did for a living, but you never stayed on that subject long enough to think much about it. Then your friend slides into the empty seat next to you, a drink in one hand and a knowingly smirk on her lips, one that suggests she was definitely in on this act. You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring at her with a stupid look of disbelief all over your face until your name is echoed throughout the speakers.

It snaps you out of your trance and you focus your attention to Bucky on stage, a huge smile on his face. All formalities set aside, he highlights you and your friendship before jumping into their new single, which was widely popular right now. Normally, you weren’t one to take compliments easily, not used to so much attention, but the whole world disappeared with Bucky.

Once their little set was over, the majority of your colleagues enjoyed the performance and asked for photos, to which the guys were more than happy to appease to. Your friend had managed to escape your clutches once more, this time abandoning you for the dessert table. You’re not alone for long as Bucky occupies the seat left open next to you. You look around your surroundings, hoping there aren’t any more surprises in store, and practically attack him with a big hug.

Bucky’s chuckle is muffled, his face buried in your hair, as he wraps his arms around you to return the gesture. When you pull away, you’re almost left speechless, but you’re dying to know how he managed to get here. He was technically still on tour and this was not one of the passing by cities.

“How?” You ask.

“Hi to you too,” he said with a cheeky grin, to which you playfully slap his arm, and he responds with your friend’s name. He explained how he’d wanted to see you and how much he had to grovel for your friend to trust him. She’d helped him arrange a meeting with your boss, who turned out to be a huge fan of The Avengers, and even sneak them inside the building all under your nose. She wasn’t easy to persuade, but if she was convinced enough to work with Bucky on anything then you knew this meant something more.

The initial notion of wanting to leave the party immediately vanished and you wanted nothing more than to just sit there in Bucky’s company all night. Steve and Sam greeted you and you never realized that this was actually the first time meeting them formally and not outside of a venue. They weren’t rockstars to you any more than you were just a fan to them. They were Bucky’s friends, of course he’d confined to them on his end as much as you did with yours.

At some point they had excused themselves to catch the last flight headed back to Brooklyn, but Bucky had decided to stay longer. When it was time to leave, you found out Bucky hadn’t planned long enough to where he would stay the night in your city. The original plan was to fly back home with the guys and pick up on the remainder of the tour. They had a few days off, but it was just a few days shy of ending, and he couldn’t wait that long to see you.

It’s funny how life works because this time you’re the one inviting him to your place. You weren’t going to blame it on the open bar or how late it was or the underlying tension that was surrounding you two, but one thing was certain, it was mutual, and you both weren’t going to deny the attraction any longer.

You’d missed the weight of Bucky’s body on yours more than you’d realized as your hands held his face, keeping his lips attached to yours. You could taste the remnants of the unfinished drink he’d abandoned at the coffee table on his tongue. Bucky’s hands hiked your leg over his waist to get you to lie flat on your couch.

You’re the first to attempt to remove clothing by popping open the buttons of his button-up shirt before completely ridding of the item leaving him in his thin undershirt. You feel his hands slide up from your hips along your back as they dig into the minimal space the arch of your back had created for him to slowly unzip the back of your dress. With your lips both still attached, you manage to sit up, your dress falling down and bunching at the waist in the process, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to see you in an outfit that would not work with a bra.

Bucky curses breathlessly when he pulls his lips away from yours for a quick breather, but in the process, he takes a peek at your half naked body. You can tell he’s just itching to touch you and you take the commanding lead and place his hands on you. The atmosphere grows thicker, him kneading your breasts, you smash your lips on his in a sloppy lock.

You push Bucky down on his end of the couch and manage to kick your loose dress all the way down your legs and off your body. Bucky’s hands travel down to the curve of your ass before he grabs a handful of flesh, causing you to moan into the kiss. Your hands rake through his styled hair, the product he used unstiffening and his hair falls limp in your grasps.

Bucky’s hands started to aid your hips in moving roughly against his clothed member, desperate to relieve some friction, and you internally blushed remembering how thick he was, how full it felt to have his cock stuffed inside of you. You didn’t remain celibate during the hiatus of your relationship, you both had urges, but Bucky had really ruined others that came after him.

Your lips drifted down Bucky’s body, kissing at the skin of his chest in the pattern following the swoop-line seam of the undershirt that he was still wearing. You skipped the expanse of his toned stomach, until you’re met with the small amount of skin that peeked between his bottoms and hem of his undershirt. You slightly lift the material up and place small pecks at his lower abdomen, which causes a low groan to rumble in Bucky’s throat.

Your fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, with the zipper pulled apart, you’re marveling at the imprint of his hard cock, already twitching and staining his boxers. You manage to break your gaze and look up at Bucky, who is desperately pleading with you to proceed. Your eyes never leave his as you lower your head closer to his member, tongue darting out to the dark spot of his boxers, tasting the precum.

The contact causes him to squirm and lips form in a tight line. You pull down his pants and agonizingly peel off his boxers slowly, dragging it down to his thighs, just enough to expose him enough for you to work with before you wrap a hand around his length. Bucky’s upper body is supported by his bent elbows so he could watch you.

You kiss the tip of his leaking cock, a small string of his precum sticking to your lips when you pull back, to which you run your tongue over. Bucky’s head falls back just in time when your lips enclose the head, tongue twirling around the ridge and teasingly at the slit and loving the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat. You inch your mouth down his length and your vacant hand gets quick to work on what you’re not able to intake while the other runs up his exposed abdomen, your fingers curling in and lightly scratching down as it runs down to massage one of his thighs. You can feel the muscle in his thigh flex at your touch the more your head bobs up and down on him.

A plethora of curses spew from his mouth, but the rush of sucking his cock, the gurgling of your spit mixed with his precum and occasional choking noise when your throat contracts around him, is all you can hear from your perspective. When you part from his member, you’re breathing intensifies, desperate for more air to enter your system, eyes slightly watering, lips swollen, your hand lazily slathering the wetness all over him.

“You’re so good at that,” Bucky comments and he finally manages to pick his head back up to look at you. He reaches forward to swipe at the mess on the corner of your chin, but you’re hungry for more, and you move your head to the side to suck on his thumb, eyes closed as you hum at the taste of his skin and essence.

Your soft tongue running against the pad of his somewhat calloused thumb, it pops lightly when you release the digit, a small, devious smile on your lips as you scoot away to lie on the other end of the couch. He’s almost at aghast by this, but even back then you were just always full of surprises around him and he wasn’t going to deny the appeal of your sexual allure.

Bucky is quick to get to your side, completely riding himself off the rest of his clothes - the undershirt, pants and boxers - he had dressed to impress but right now nothing more than but overdressed. He gently parts your legs, kissing up your calves and thighs, until settles between them, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your scantily covered core.

Unlike last time, you’re not afraid to watch him and he sends you a knowingly wink, quickly ascending up to give you a sweet kiss, while his fingers slip inside your panties and between your lips. Your hips eagerly thrust upwards hoping his fingers slip in.

“Baby, we got all night,” he says cradling your face in his other hand. You let out a small whine, but regardless attempt to be patient. Bucky studies your face, mesmerized by every structure and unique feature, then what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was only a few seconds, he sinks a finger inside your wet pussy.

As soon as the gasp leaves your lips, his lips swoop in and tongue instantly dipping in search of yours. The heated kiss only heightens the sensation in the pit of your stomach, your hips losing control and every buck up into his hand, your clit rubs up against his palm, invigorating it. The curl of his finger, lightly probs at the right spot inside you, you uncontrollably squeal against his lips, with a hand against his chest you gently push his body away from yours.

“Oh my God! Fuck, Bucky…” you say with your head tilting back to the curve of the couch’s arm. You feel Bucky’s lips kiss and suck at your exposed neck as his fingers continue their handy work, the lewd noises causing your eyes to roll back.

His lips find their way next to your ear, gently nipping at it, and you could just drown at the sound of his husky breathing and filthy words. “Can I taste you?” He asks. You’re not sure why he was asking, you’d want nothing less. You nod almost instantaneously before allowing him to remove your panties.

Bucky’s hungry eyes remain fixated on your glistening core, “oh, I missed this pussy,” he comments before his tongue fondles the lips. He has a hand lying flat against one of your legs, pressed on the couch to keep them spread apart, the other blocked by his body. His routine contrasts his old with how his tongue moves in slow and calculated laps. His mouth was very talented, given whatever style he chose to play.

You’re tethering on an orgasm and Bucky wanted nothing more than to watch you come undone for him. Bucky’s fingers and tongue work in tandem and fast to help you reach a climax.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky manages to ask in between, eyes peering up at you. You don’t actually answer because you can’t concentrate from the pleasure he’s bestowing and the impending release. “Good. I want you to cum. I want all this pussy has to give,” his voice hitting a different low, even his fucking voice was so sexy. Your hands clutch on fistfuls of the couch cushions when you feel the first wave of pleasure wash over your body, your hips stilled in place as Bucky laps up at your arousal.

“The sweetest thing ever,” Bucky mutters mostly to himself, but hearing that comment only feeds your ego, which never is a bad thing in an intimate setting. Your chest heaves up and down from the impact. Just as Bucky is about to crawl back up to parallel, you stop him with a foot at his chest. He grabs your small foot in his hand and blinks at your resistance.

“Sit back,” you command. He drops your foot and watches as your body maneuvers around to climb over his. He didn’t even realize his body had complied to your demand, absolutely hypnotized by you.

You lean in for a deep kiss, one that leaves his brain a mush, yours too almost that you have to steady yourself with one hand on the couch armrest. You reach a hand down between your bodies and grab a hold of his hard cock. Your fingers tracing along the vein before you start rubbing his head through your sensitive, wet folds. Bucky’s hands lay lightly on your hips, trying with all his might to not force you to take him all the way in. A large part of him liked this dominant side of you. There was so much about you he was dying to unearth.

“Baby, please…” he begins pleading as you barely press the tip of his cock just at your entrance before you slowly lower your body down to engulf his entire length. You sit still once you’re sure you’ve bottomed out, not noticing Bucky’s fingers digging into your hips, sure enough to leave crescent marks and tiny bruises.

Bucky’s face is buried in your neck, your cheek pressed against the top of his head, lost in the mop of dark hair. You feel his cock twitch inside of you causing your hips to ground on his. He was in so deep, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last in this position, but you’d be damned if you denied it.

You start with slow swivels before sliding back and forth on his cock. Bucky’s hands released their death grip from your hips, one travelled to the front to grope at your breasts while the other supported your body settling itself on the small of your back. Your hands set themselves on the back of the couch on either side of his head, using it as leverage to ground down harder on him.

“Mm, I missed fucking this big cock,” you lean down to whisper right in his ear, “you’re so deep, Bucky.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spits out curse after curse at your dirty words. “You gonna cum on this big cock, hmm?” He asks. The question comes as a challenge and you weren’t ready to give up the ropes to him.

“Yeah, is this big cock gonna cum inside this tight pussy?” You counter the question, speeding up your gyrations until you start to feel the burn in your thighs and stomach begin to twist. He lets out a low, long growl, his eyes lulling shut and head falling back against the couch, ready to succumb to euphoria.

“No,” you say, suddenly ceasing all movements to pull at his hair. The sharp pain in his scalp causes his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “Keep your eyes on me,” you command much like how he did with you the first time. You watch him swallow the knot in his throat and give him a wicked smile before picking back up where you left off.

Your hands are sprawled on his sweaty chest as you bounce up and down his length. Bucky’s senses are on overdrive, the way your pussy naturally hugs his cock, walls squeezing occasionally, your breasts swaying right in front of him, your skin shining from the layer of sweat coating your body, and the look of immense pleasure written all over your face because of him.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says over and over as some form of warning, hoping you’re not far behind.

The way his face contorted in ecstasy, lips parted, sweat building up on his forehead, the tip of his cock stabbing at your sweet spot, you were about to cum too. His words become a muffled mess when you attempt to silence him with a bruising kiss just as you reach your high, pussy clenching tight around his cock milking him of everything he’s got. Each spurt of his hot cum that shoots inside you causes your hips to stutter in response. Bucky attempts to keep them at bay with a hand pressed against your back, keeping your body close to him and in the process also instilling his seed is rooted deep inside of you.

“God...damn,” Bucky says short of breath when your body lies limp against his. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, you haven’t attempted to move just yet as you both sat there with his cock still buried in. When you manage to sit up, you stare back at Bucky with tired eyes, but there’s a smile on both your faces. It only slightly falters at his next words.

“I love you,” he says earnestly. Thankfully your silence doesn’t bother him, “...you don’t have to say it back,” he adds, “I just wanted you to know. You’re so special,” he proclaims and your heart leaps at the very admission. You only nod for now but give him another reassuring smile because in time you knew you could allow yourself to love Bucky and be loved by him in return. It wasn’t a conventional meeting, but this was your life, not everyone else's.

When you finally manage to pull yourself off his cock, it slips out fluidly with a trail of his cum following in suit. You knew you’d curse yourself later on, but you’re both too tired to clean the mess right now. The pair of you settle into a lying position, facing one another, encased in each other’s arms. It’s a moment of bliss as you both just lie there, his eyes closed and a smile seemingly permanently etched on his face, only around you.

“Hey Bucky,” you pipe up breaking the silence. He hums in response, “I want to know something...” you start out with.

“Anything,” he says, eyes still closed, his hand running up and down your arm, an indicator that he’s present and listening.

“What happened between you two?” Curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’re hoping this doesn’t ruin the moment, but you had to know. What went wrong? Besides, if this was going to work, he was going to have to be honest.

“Uh, she saw something on my phone…” he said cautiously, “...that involved you.” Your eyes widen at that. It couldn’t have been the sex tape you hoped.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp, sitting up and just hoping he doesn’t confirm it.

“Relax!” He says pulling you back down with him, “She was psycho. She went through my texts and saw some of the photos we used to send to each other. She must’ve thought they were recent.” He explains like it was no big deal.

Your heart stops racing slightly, you’re a bit relieved that she didn’t go as far as posting any of the photos on the Internet. You knew you were risking it by sexting with Bucky, but what was that saying? Hell hath no fury…and in a blind rage, she lashed out only on Bucky, but if she was a psycho, who knows what else she might’ve found on Bucky’s phone.

“Bucky?” you figure you might as well know now.

“Yeah…”

“What did you do with that sex tape?” You’d been dying to know if it was safely stored away or if maybe he even still watched it or just deleted it.

A big toothy grin spreads across his lips, his pearly whites on full display as he laughs at the question before he reaches over to the table next to the couch, where his cell phone rested on.

“Want to make a sequel?” He asks suggestively with a smirk on his lips and waving his phone at you, to which you playfully attempt to snatch from his grasp. He’s too quick, but nonetheless he replaces the phone in its original spot before focusing his attention on you alone.

“You don’t think this is all weird?” He questions almost hesitantly while tracing the outline of your jaw delicately. You’re not thinking that at all. You’d both been through a lot during the last few years that the only thing that was normal now was what you both had.

You shake your head in response, too tired for words, and drowning in the blissful moment. Bucky nods before declaring, “good because you make so happy,” then ending the night with sweet kisses.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re busy at the studio today...” you start, cell phone pressed against your ear. You’re attempting to leave a voicemail to your boyfriend, who was expecting your arrival later that day, “...but I just wanted to assure you that this isn’t weird, and I can’t wait to see you...I love you, Bucky,” you finish up the message and stuff the device into your bag just in time to hear the voice of the airline staff making the pre-boarding announcements booming loudly from the speakers.

Now boarding Group B for flight #107 to JFK Airport...final destination Brooklyn, New York.

A/N: We’ve been in quarantine for so long, I don’t remember how airport announcements are like anymore and I was only in Brooklyn last Spring…RIP to the good times.

A happy ending was weird to write in the end and I actually don’t like this particular Bucky so it could’ve gone really bad, but I said to myself, no, not this time, I can do what the title says and let them be just that - happy. I too can be happy if you give this a like, reblog or comment! Thanks for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #rockstar!bucky barnes #rockstar!bucky #rockstar!au #bucky barnes #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfic #so happy

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

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I Want You - A Din Djarin Story

Author’s Note: Hey there, internet friends. So I had an ask from my friend @hdlynnslibrary that I can’ find to save my life. Luckily, I wrote it down! “Hi Kat! My darling! I must admit to feeling #horny okay? Soooo what about a prompt for my fav space man Din? Like maybe with an #inexperienced reader?” Oh Heather, my love, ask and you shall receive! What started out as a little somethin became 14 pages, double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman font. So my darling, I hope you enjoy this Din x reader fic, it was made with LOTS of love <3

Warnings: SMUT, there is definately sexy times going on over here, all aboard the horny train, leaving the station as we speak. Choo-fuckin-choo! Also, language because I am me and since I was born and raised in Boston and I have been swearing like a goddamn sailor since, well, ever lol. Oh, and there’s a slight breeding kink, just an FYI. I’m sorry, it just all came out and I couldn’t help it and Din Djarin wants his clan to expand, okay?

Thank you to all who read, like, comment, reblog, etc. It warms my heart that you all are enjoying my work. Please let me know what you think of this one :-)

You had been traveling with Din on the Razor Crest for the past year or so. He found you on Arvala-7, working alongside Kuiil. You were good with your hands, fast with a blaster, and most importantly, you connected with the Child. From the second that kid saw you, he decided that you were his. He was the largest reason that you were here right now. How anyone could resist those big eyes, his floppy ears, and that cute baby smile. He turned your heart to putty.

Your days were spent mostly on the Crest, keeping an eye on the little one and tending to the ship the best you could. The baby required a fair bit of effort, but you didn’t mind; he had become like your own child without you even realizing it.

Somewhere along the way, you had become closer with the Mandalorian that you traveled with. Clipped sentences became more extended conversations as you gently urged him out of his shell. Soon, he became curious about you, asking all sorts of unimportant questions, ranging from where you grew up to what your favorite color was. Dinners alone with the kid turned into Mando joining you, lifting his helmet ever so slightly so that he could take a sip of the broth you made or a bite of the ration pack you heated up. Every time he did this, you made sure to keep your eyes on your plate, never wanting to disrespect his Creed in any way.

As the months progressed, your feelings for one stoic Mandalorian grew. You caught yourself lingering in the cockpit more when after you put the little one down at night. You also caught yourself staring on more than one occasion, and you knew for a fact that Mando saw you, too. How could you not stare at that imposing figure that you shared a home with? The duality of the man was awe-inspiring, to be sure. He was a fearsome warrior, and you had witnessed his prowess first hand many a time. He brought bounties in nonstop, always jetting off to the next one before the last quarry had been frozen away in carbonite for a day. And then there was the gentleness that he had with the baby. You could tell that this was his first time taking care of another person by himself. Sometimes he was a bit rough around the edges, but he did try his best. He was learning how to be the best parent he could for the kid, and watching that play out warmed your heart.

Often times, when he took the kid up to the cockpit so that you could use the refresher and wash the day away, you could hear him up there talking to the kid gently. Sometimes he speaks in Basic; other times, he speaks in what you assume is Mando’a. Every once in a while, you hear him sing the baby a lullaby on those restless nights where nothing seems to calm that sweet baby down. The first time you heard him sing softly to the kid, you knew that you loved him.

You never felt right acting on your feelings; you didn’t know how he thought about you. Also, you were terrified of making a fool of yourself. Truth be told, you have never been in a man’s bed before. The life of a refugee of the Empire didn’t leave much time for amorous encounters. By the time you found Kuiil, all you wanted was to keep your head down and do your work. If you happened to meet someone along the way, fantastic, but you had more pressing matters to attend to, like surviving in the desert.

That all changed one night when you least expected it. Mando had taken the kid to soothe him and put him to sleep, so you took the opportunity to use the fresher. You had been working hard that day, repairing areas of the Crest that needed maintenance while juggling an inquisitive little one. You took your time, relishing the way that the water felt against your bare skin, the warmth seeping into your muscles and soothing your bones. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but you viewed water as a gift from the Maker itself. For the first time in your life, you didn’t have to scrounge and save every last drop. You’d never had the luxury of using actual water the bathe daily; you’d never been in the financial position to have such a thing. For the Galaxy working class, a sonic was the best you could hope for most of the time. It cleansed the body of dirt and grime just fine, but it wasn’t pleasant like water was.

In all honesty, your idea of a luxuriously long shower was well under ten minutes, but it was a dream come true for you. After you were clean and smelling of the fresh soap that you used, it was time for you to get out. You grabbed the small towel, drying your body, and then reached for your clothes. Your hands floundered around a bit until you realized that you had inadvertently forgotten to bring a new pair of clothes or your sleep shirt in with you. You had been in too much of a rush to hand off the baby and get just a few moments to yourself.

You groaned at your flightiness. Kriff, that only left you with two options: you could either put your dirty clothes back on, or you could try to make your way back to your sleeping quarters wrapped in this tiny ass towel. Neither option particularly appealed to you, but your desire for cleanliness finally won out.

You gathered up your belongings and quietly opened the refresher door, careful not to be too loud. It usually took a bit of time to calm the baby down enough for him to go to sleep, and you didn’t want to interrupt that process. The lights in the hold were dimmed, leaving you with the ability only to see a few steps in front of you.

Unfortunately, your quest to be stealthy was in vain. You had forgotten that you had moved a particular toolbox during your work project this morning. Said toolbox ended up being placed right where you could smack your little toe on it. You yelped in pain, dropping everything in your arms in favor of hopping up and down on one foot and clutching the other in your hands. This caused the towel to also fall to the ground, leaving you bare. A noise drew your attention up, and your eyes met a helmet, staring right back. Mando was standing right in front of you, apparently drawn by the noise.

You dropped your foot, standing up straight, eyes wide in shock. You didn’t move; you barely breathed. Your mind was short-circuiting, and you didn’t even have the sense to pick up your towel off the ground. Your body was overflowing with embarrassment, horror, and- was that arousal? Stars, you were standing here, completely bare, across from the Mandalorian who has every inch of himself covered.

Ever so slowly, he reached down and grabbed the towel you had dropped, carefully wrapping it back around you. His hand accidentally brushed your breast, causing you to suck in a breath of surprise. He murmured his apologies, beginning to withdraw his hands, but you were faster. You reached out, stilling his retreating hands and placing them back on your body. You wanted this, you wanted him, and you wanted to make sure that he knew it.

He tilted his helmet curiously, waiting for you to give him a prompt. He took in your labored breathing, your increased heart rate, the way you bit your lip. Your eyes met his visor, and he could barely even see your eye color because your pupils were so blown with lust and desire. He groaned a deep, low sound in his chest at your obvious reaction to his presence.

“What do you want, sweet girl?” he ground out, trying to keep himself in check.

You moved your hands, gently cradling his helmet where his cheeks would be, breathing in his scent swirling so close to you. You could smell the blaster residue, the leather, the metal of his beskar, the soap you both used in the shower, and that smell that was uniquely his. You’d never get tired of it, not in this life or the next.

“I want you,” was your reply. “Touch me, Mando, please.”

“Din,” came his reply, almost in a whisper, as if it was something sacred.

You frowned, your nose scrunched up in confusion. You studied this helmet, eyes searching for answers.

“My name, it’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, eyes wide with confusion. You knew the sacredness of a name in this Galaxy. Stars, you hadn’t even told him your own name for a solid three months. The only reason he had found out was because he overheard you talking to the kid one day. A name was even more sacred to a Mandalorian. It was precious, something to be guarded with the utmost care. You’d never even wagered that he’d give it to you, ever.

“You can use it, but with just me and the kid around. No one else gets to know it, no one but you.”

You nodded, understanding just how much it had taken for him to tell you. His name was a gift, something that you would keep close and cherish.

“Din,” you spoke the Mandalorian’s name for the first time, testing it on your tongue, relishing the taste of it in your mouth. It was a good name, a solid name, a name fitting for the warrior before you. “Din Djarin, a beautiful name.”

Hearing his name in your mouth set Din’s soul on fire. The way you spoke it, the way you had considered it and acknowledged the importance of what he had just given you, it made him want to hear it again and again. He wanted to listen to you moan his name in ecstasy, begging him for more, begging him for pleasure. He wanted to hear you yell it, mutter it, say it in everyday conversation. He wanted to hear his name drip from your lips for the rest of his life.

That night was the first time he took you and gave you pleasure. You had come on his tongue and fingers three times before you were strung out and exhausted. You fell asleep in his bunk wrapped tightly in his arms. That was two months ago.

You still had yet to take him fully, to allow him to be inside of you. You had admitted that you were nervous, that you had no experience to work off of. Din had been nothing but patient and kind, never pressuring you into anything that you weren’t comfortable with. He had told you that, “We have all the time in the world, sweet girl. There’s no need to rush.” You believed him wholeheartedly, but in the past weeks, you had found yourself wanting more. Sure, you were still frightened, you didn’t know what you were doing, but that burn and ache inside of you kept getting more intense as the days went by. You know that Din would take care of you.

It’s been a rough day, and that’s an understatement. You helped with the bounty this time because the information you were given indicated that this quarry was heavily guarded. Mando couldn’t say no to an extra blaster covering his ass. Thankfully, this mission was on Tatooine, meaning that you could leave the little one with Peli. Maker knows that woman loves your little green bean; how could she not? Green bean loves her right back and seems to be particularly fond of the pit droids. You think it has something to do with the fact that he can bonk their noses to make them spring to life, but you can’t be sure.

Unfortunately, it turns out that this asshole was much more protected than you had been led to believe. You would have some choice words for Greef Karga to pass along to whoever had commissioned this kriffing bounty. You both had more or less emerged unscathed, but there would most certainly be bruises covering you two from head to toe.

Once the bounty was frozen away in carbonite, you could breathe a little better. He wouldn’t be giving you any trouble now. When Peli saw that state you were in, she insisted that she keep the little one for the night, which was a relief. As much as you loved that sweet little boy, you needed a breather. Hopefully, you’d be able to spend some much needed time with just you and your Mandalorian.

You found yourself on Din’s lap with a blindfold covering your eyes so he could kiss you. You would rather not see anything at all and have his lips on yours than have your sight with his helmet on. You both were in your underclothes, your legs straddling him.

That’s when the kisses began. There was something about kissing Din Djarin that was otherworldly. The way he poured all his love and care into a kiss never ceases to blow you away. He always started so gently, building you up and setting you on fire. How could anything be that good, that pleasurable? He licked into your mouth, moaning at your taste. Your Mandalorian loved to kiss you. He nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp, pleasure shooting straight down to your core.

He moved his kisses to your jaw and down the column of your neck, leaving bruising in his wake. Din whispered in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how good you tasted, how you were just for him. The thought that you were his, that this fearsome warrior had opened himself up enough to let you in, it urged you forward.

You began to rock back and forth on his thigh, chasing that feeling of bliss. He stopped you for a moment, helping you wiggle out of your panties, before urging you to start once more. This felt even better, your slick dripping out onto his thigh, helping you create beautiful friction. By the sounds he was making, Din was enjoying it, too. The feeling of his muscles hard beneath you, your clit rubbing deliciously against him, was heavenly. You could feel the sparks in your tummy, the clench of your cunt around nothing; you were so close.

Din urged you on, his hands at your hips, moving you. He muttered about how gorgeous you were as you took your pleasure on his thigh, how he wanted to see you cum on him, how he wanted to taste your sweet pussy after you came. His words were what finally did you in, the dam bursting and your orgasm hitting you full force. Your hips began to stutter, but your Mandalorian kept you moving, riding the waves of pleasure, extending your bliss. Finally, your whines led him to stop; you were far too sensitive to continue. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

As you sat there, your head on Din’s shoulder, centering yourself once more, you realized what exactly was pressing against your thigh. You could feel his rock hard, dripping cock, just within reach. The thought of it made your pussy clench and your mouth water. You wanted Din Djarin, all of him, in every way possible. You wanted to feel him inside of you, wrecking you and making you see stars.

“Din,” you murmured, “I want you.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing you in. “You have me, Mesh’la, any way you want me.”

You sat up straight on his lap, facing him. If you didn’t have a blindfold on, you’re sure you’d be looking him directly in the eye. “No, I want you. I want you inside of me; I want your cock, Din.”

Your Mandalorian groaned at your admission. There was nothing he wanted more. He took in the earnest expression on your face, looking for any sign of hesitance or anxiety. He never wanted you to feel pressured into doing anything that you didn’t want to do. He didn’t want you to feel as if you needed to do something to please him. He wanted you to explore sex at your own pace, never another’s.

“Cyare, are you sure? There is no rush for us. My satisfaction comes from the fact that I can satisfy you and that you trust me enough to allow me to be the first to touch you in this way. There is no timetable besides your wants, needs, and desires, mesh’la. I don’t want you to pressure yourself.”

You smiled at his words, his voice so soft and sweet for you. He was always so considerate, never rushing you or telling you that you were going too slowly. The kindness and care this great warrior continuously showed you reminded you of this complicated man’s duality. You felt safe with him, and you wanted all of him.

“Din, baby, no, I don’t feel pressured. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now. I want to feel you inside of me; I want you to make love to me, please.”

He cradled your face in his palms for a moment, his thumbs gliding over your cheeks. Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of passion, sinking you deeper into arousal. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that he loved, and maybe he did. Perhaps you and the kid were his whole heart. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, causing you to mewl and moan. He knew just what would get you going.

He pulled away, sucking in precious oxygen as you did the same. Carefully, he turned the both of you around and laid you down on his cot. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the galaxy, not by a long shot. It was designed more for efficiency than comfort. The thing was, though, you didn’t care. It was Din’s, and he was willing to share it with you. You could feel him hovering over you, his breath warm against your face.

“Let me taste you, sweet girl. Let me get you ready to take my cock.”

You gasped, feeling his cock rock back and forth, covering himself in your slick. You were at a loss for words, so many sensations happening all at once. All you could manage was a nod, and a whimpered, “Please, Din.”

Your Mandalorian kissed his way down your body, leaving behind bite marks and bruises where he wanted to cause heightened sensations. Before he even made it to your pussy, you were already painfully wet for him. You could feel his breath ghosting over the place where you wanted him the most. You lifted your hips in an attempt to spur him on, but all it got you was a muscular arm forcing your hips back down to the cot.

“Patience, cyar’ika, I want you to feel every ounce of pleasure that I can wring out of you. Enjoy the moment, feel the suspense, don’t simply rush to the finish line, little one.”

You yelped as you felt him bite into the juncture of your hip and thigh, sucking in hard to leave a mark. He soothed the skin with his tongue, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough. He repeated the process on the other side, marking you in a place only the two of you would ever see, like a secret that you both would share.

Unexpectedly, his tongue licked a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit. You sighed; that was the feeling you so desperately wanted. He lapped at your cunt like a man starved, and you were the best thing on the menu. He knew how to work you into a frenzy, and quickly, he played your body like an instrument that he had been practicing on for a lifetime. You quaked and shook as your second orgasm of the night took hold, bursting and pulling you ever forward into the bliss you so desperately craved.

Even after you had ridden out your orgasm, Din didn’t stop. He worked you over, inserting one finger and then another inside of you, hitting that one spot inside you that made you see stars over and over. His mouth never stopped, his tongue lazily drawing loose circles around your clit, never slowing down, but keeping a steady pace. Your hips fought to lift off the cot, simultaneously fighting and chasing that feeling of ecstasy. When he scissored his fingers inside of you and twisted his wrist just so, you lost it once more. A scream that sounded something like his name tore out of your throat as the stars exploded behind your eyes.

You felt like you were floating in space, freely and without a care in the world. You reached a new height of pleasure that you’d never even imagined before. You could touch the sky and would never ever come down. You thought every encounter with your Mandalorian was pure rapture, but this was beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were panting, gasping for the oxygen your body so desperately needed, and you felt better than you ever had before. As your head left the clouds, you realized you had a dopey smile on your face, and your lover was covering you with kisses everywhere he could reach.

Vaguely, you heard his whispers in the dark. You were so good for me, mesh’la. You looked so beautiful cumming on my fingers and tongue. You taste divine, starshine. Those words went straight to your heart and to your pussy, flooding you with more arousal than you had ever thought possible. A deep kiss on your lips finally brought you back to the present, the warm body on top of you centering your mind.

“Are you ready for my cock, sweet girl? Do you still want to feel me inside of you? I promise I’ll go slow.”

You nodded in response, your words failing you.

“I need to hear you say it, cyare. I need to hear you tell me that you want this, that you’re sure.”

Your head lolled a bit as you processed his words, still feeling slightly hazy.

“Din Djarin, I want you inside of me. Please, please, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”

He chuckled at your pleas, a smile pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll be most delighted to give you what you want, sweet girl. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Are you ready for me?”

You breathed out a yes as you felt him coat himself in your slick, making sure he could ease into you. You knew he was quite large. You had curiously wondered aloud one day if all men were built like that. Even though his size intimidated you, you wanted everything he could give you. The excitement fizzled in your belly; you were getting wetter by the second.

Ever so slowly, your Mandalorian lined himself up with you and began to press in. You gasped at the feeling of just the head of his cock inside of you, the blunt tip spearing into you. He paused before he began to move again. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed himself into you, stopping ever so often to make sure that you had time to adjust to him. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the girls in your hometown had made it seem. Maybe they hadn’t been with the proper lovers, or perhaps the boys they were sleeping with were just inexperienced and too young. All you knew was that there was a pinch of pain, yes, but the pleasure outweighed any discomfort you may have felt.

You could feel every delicious inch of him inside you, splitting you open and filling you up like nothing ever had before. You could feel every ridge and vein as he inched his way into you. You couldn’t even put a name to this feeling, but you wanted more. Eventually, he was fully seated inside of you; your hips flush against his own. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim, and Maker, you loved it. He waited for a minute or two, allowing you to adjust to him and have a chance to take in all these new sensations. You had thought his fingers were terrific, but they were nothing compared to the feel of his cock deep inside of you.

He kissed you. It was all teeth, tongue, and lips, and stars; it was perfect. He devoured your mouth, taking what was his. You couldn’t help the little sounds that sprung up from your throat when he did that. He answered you with guttural groans of his own. You could feel the way those sounds made his chest rumble; you could feel it in your chest pressed against him.

He grabbed your leg, propping it up on his hip, and he began to move. He never went too fast for you or too hard, keeping a steady pace that kept you comfortable but still dragged you forward to a fourth orgasm. You didn’t even know you had it in you until Din used two of his fingers to assault your clit, encouraging that bundle of nerves to give you one more burst of pleasure. The combination of his cock deep inside you and his fingers on your clit was enough to send you toppling over the edge once more. This orgasm was more intense than the others, blazing white-hot through your veins and setting your soul on fire. If you thought you had been screaming before, you were mistaken. You writhed and squirmed under your lover, your pleasure causing your body to shake like a leaf. You sobbed his name over and over, tears spilling out of your eyes from sheer ecstasy.

Your Mandalorian groaned deeply at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him like a vice. You were so tight, to begin with, and your orgasm grabbed him and shoved him into his orgasm. As he emptied himself deep within you, he couldn’t help but mumble praises. “Oh Mesh’la, you’re so tight for me, so beautiful laid bare just for me. You’re such a good girl, a sweet girl, my girl. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. Adventure, new experiences, my love- fuck if you want it, I’ll give you warriors, children of our own.”

You both laid there for a while afterward, basking in the glow of post-sex haze. You carded your fingers through his curls, gently scratching his scalp as he pressed sweet kisses into your skin. He was still inside you; neither of you could bear the thought of being parted just yet. You could stay like this forever, caught in this in-between time, not yet floating back into reality.

“I would like that,” you murmured, never stopping your movements in his hair.

“Like what, cyare?”

“For you to give me warriors of our own, Din.”

You could feel him twitch inside you, clearly interested. His head shot up, studying yours closely, looking for any falsehood or hesitance in your blindfolded face.

“You mean it?” He breathed out.

You grinned, feeling around for his face. You traced his sharp jawline, the proud cure of his nose, the pout of his plump lips. This was the face of the man you loved, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Wherever he was in the Galaxy, that was home.

“Yes, my love, I mean it. We have our little green bean, and eventually, he’s going to need some friends to play with. We wouldn’t want him to be lonely. And besides, there’s no one I’d rather raise warriors with than you.”

You heard a faint sniffle before his lips were on yours once more. You had a family, but there was always room to add more to this clan of three.

Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags list xo

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x fem!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x female reader #the madalorian fic #din djarin fic #star wars fic #requested #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fic

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years ago

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What I Thought About "Yesterday's Lie" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who absolutely won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

Here it is! The midseason finale of The Owl House Season Two! An episode featuring Luz going back to the human realm, is hyped up to heaven about how painful it'll be for the audience, and features more anxiety by how Creepy Luz is a thing. And BOOOOOOOOY howdy were fans not ready for this. I'm sure as hell not ready for when I wrote this intro at *checks time* thirty minutes before watching the official premier. Yup, the words you're reading right now are from me in the past, when everything was still pure and simple. Whereas future me is still probably destroyed by the events that transpired. Isn't that right, future me?

Future Me: Actually, it wasn’t that bad. The ending hurt, sure, but other than that, it wasn’t too painful.

Wow, that is some neat input! At least, I think it was. I wouldn't know because I literally wrote that after watching the episode. With the words you're currently reading being written at *checks time* twenty-six minutes before the premier...this whole intro is confusing, isn't it, future me?

Future Me: Sure is.

Yeah, it's definitely confusing. In any case, let's dive into this spoiler-filled review as we find out together just how painful this episode was! Take it away, future me!

Future Me: Will do! Major spoilers ahead, folks!

Now, let’s review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz’s Room: We only see it for a short time, but everything about it just screams Luz. The pile of weird-looking stuffed animals, the witch hat in the center of the floor, and the fact that she has bunk beds, a single child's dream (Or so I've heard). It's a small thing, but I love it.

Vee: Here she is! The character previously dubbed Creepy Luz who now turns out to be yet another new addition to the ever-growing list of characters that we, as a fandom, would give our lives for. Because holy s**t was Vee the best type of expectation subversion. Showing us all the ominous ways of how she basically took Luz's place made fans assume that Vee was an evil doppelganger. Turns out, she was just a tortured soul that was desperate to live a new and better life and lucked out in finding Luz's. What Vee does is...questionable at best, but seeing what she went through with the experiments Belos pulled on her, you understand why she would do it. And I personally love it's that same background information that makes Vee resentful of Luz of all people. Luz's life is a relative dream come true, and running away from that would be insane to someone who spent most of their existence through imprisonment and experimentation. It's an intriguing point of view, even though it's admittingly flawed given how it's mostly Camila that seemingly made Luz's life bearable. But the flaws don't matter. What matters is that you can see where Vee is coming from, and to me, personally, I think she's understandable enough to make me root for her to have some kind of happy ending. Whether as Luz or as herself, I'm hopeful to see Vee get some semblance of peace.

Camila: *Round of applause* Don't mind me! Just taking the time to love how all them sons of b**hes who thought Camila was a bad mom are now heavily invalidated. 'Cause, guess what? Camila is a fantastic mother, both to her daughter and her daughter's doppelganger! Allow me to walk you through the highlights:

How Camila looks like she’s not okay with the fact that "Luz" is clearing out her weird stuff, seemingly acting too different to the Luz she knows. Added to the fact that Camila doesn't like it.

How Camila drove Luz to camp whether than letting her take the bus

The fact that Camila takes that box of junk back in, not willing to part with the tin foil sculpture Luz made.

The way she was willing to play along with the game she thought Luz was doing, supporting her daughter's creative mind that Camila admits to being glad to see.

And, best of all, the willingness Camila had to help this poor creature, despite the lies it lived.

It's that last part I really want to touch upon, though. Because an action like that shows just how much Luz's heart comes from Camila. The kindness and generosity of helping this poor creature, who she has every right to run out on, proves how Luz learned to be everything she is today through Camila's own loving heart. Vee was scared and hurt, and the second Camila saw that she was then more than willing to help because of it. It's something that Luz would do, and it proves that even though Camila didn't exactly get everything right, she's still a great mom where it counts.

“A new life”: A perfect line.

Initially, it makes audiences think that it has everything to do with replacing Luz. It's only through future context that we know it's about escaping the s**t show Vee once lived through that it's clear she's talking about starting over. It hits us with intrigue on the first viewing, only to hit harder with the feels during a second. Really well-done.

Luz in the Mirror: A well-done surprise that makes fans curious about how this even happen in the first place. Kudos to you, writers.

The New Portal: I don't mind that they found a way to build this off-screen. Showing Luz and the gang slowly building a new portal would have been a little too tedious to watch, and it's so much better to just start this episode out with it. Besides, maybe we'll get the slow and steadier version now that we've seen how quickly building one might not have been the best way to go, given how fast that thing fell apart.

Luz Between Dimensions: I have no clue what the hell that place she was in is called, but it's awesome! The overall design of the realm is the correct type of unsettling, like it's oozing with mystery, but it's somewhere that you probably don't want to be in for too long. Whoever designed it deserves all of the credit because I don't want to even think about all the hard work that went into making this look as well-made as it was.

Luz Resisting to See Amity: What? Luz and Amity are adorable, and seeing Luz's immediate thought about seeing Amity makes my shipping heart scream with glee. Don't judge me!

Hiding Luz’s Dad’s Face: Well, that was a fun story while it lasted.

So, it turns out that Luz's dad really was a part of Luz's and Camila's life at some point, but not anymore. As for why remains to be seen, as we don't really know yet if we'll see him make an appearance. I'd say that the odds are high that he will, given how much of a point this episode made about keeping his face hidden. Shows don't usually do that unless the goal is to hype up some official reveal, and I can't wait to see what comes of it.

Luz Telling Herself to Count to Five: Hey, more evidence for how I relate to Luz! I know how it feels to be all panicky about a specific situation, and I only got better when I took the time to calm down for a bit. Sometimes, I even tried the "count to x" method that Luz used...it never worked, primarily because it made me feel worse when people told me to do it, but I still tried it! Plus, there's also some narrative foreshadowing when after Luz says five, the realm shows her Vee, or Number V, which is a pretty cool detail you'll notice on a rewatch.

Luz Helping Vee: I gave Camila praise for helping Vee in the end, but that doesn't abstain Luz from her own set of recognition. The second that Luz realized that Vee wasn't really a threat and is far from evil, our favorite human does what she can to help and even makes a deal where they're both happy. Because, of course, Luz is that perfect of a protagonist who is more than willing to help others in need. And it's why we love her so.

Looking for Magic that Eda Left Behind: A pretty cool idea that gives Luz and Vee a chance to bond and giving us an insight into Eda's past antics and misadventures in the human realm. Not much I can add to it, though.

Gravesfield: It's surprisingly not as jarring as I thought it would be to spend an episode in the human realm. I thought for sure, after all that time in the Boiling Isles, there would be something off about walking around a normal environment for a change. Turns out, it's almost easy to get used to. Or, for me, it is.

But I will say that there's this neat use of colors when comparing Gravesfield with the Boiling Isles. In Gravesfield, the coloring looks dulled down and standard, which is a stark contrast to the bright vibrancy of everything we've seen in the Boiling Isles. It's a subtle way of showing how things are different, aside from the major discrepancies we could come to expect. And I think that's why I appreciate it much more.

Eda’s Called Herself Marylynn in the Human Realm: Hang on...hang on...do you mean to tell me that the crack theory about Eda being Stan's ex-wife is actually true?

...

...What even is this show?!

Vee Making Friends with Camp Members: This shows the most apparent difference between Luz and Vee. Where we see Luz is already fearing the many ways that could go wrong with interacting with teens, Vee revealed that she adapted to her situation and had a chance to make friends. The implications of this are worth discussing another time, but for now, I'll say that it's pretty intriguing that we gain this much insight into both Luz and Vee through such a small thing.

Belos Wanting to Learn How Basilisks can Drain Magic: ...Didn't Raine say that Belos was taking away magic? If so, I think we can figure out how he's doing it. The question now is: Why?

Jacob (The Curator Guy): This guy was a riot. At first, Jacob seemed like a threat with the way he trapped Vee and was apparently stocking her, but the second he goes off about his conspiracy theories, it becomes clear what type of character he is. And was it a blast seeing how much of a crackpot this man is. It wasn't cool seeing him wanting to dissect the precious angel that is Vee, but I still chuckle about things like his "Flat Eather's Certificate." So while he's not that much of a threat, he's still fun to watch.

The Owl Beast was in the Human Realm: ...How did that happen? When did it happen? And how the hell did Eda get out of a situation like that?! Who knows, but it's still a shocking piece of news to learn.

Luz Telling Camila the Truth: Hey, she faced her fear after all! Although, the results aren't as pleasant as when Amity faced her fear two weeks ago.

Camila is a Veterinarian: ...One insignificant reveal...managed to destroy so many fanfics. I mean, we probably shouldn't have just assumed Camila was a nurse...but what the f**k else were we supposed to think?! Sorry for seeing the scrubs, and the first thing that came to my mind was "nurse" and not "vet."

By the way, that had to have been intentional, right? There's no way that Dana Terrace didn't think we'd assume Camila was a nurse. She'd had to have put off a reveal like that just to trip up her fans. And if that's the case, then that is a major d**k move...but that's why I mildly respect it.

Two Human Brothers went to the Demon Realm: Turns out we don't have to be in the Boiling Isles to learn more about it. Because now we have more information about how two humans were taken to the Isles with the help of a witch, thus setting up a grander reveal if it turns out that one of the humans was Philip and the witch was Belos. Because if that's true...then there's more of a history between those two than we thought.

Jacob has a Training Wand: This helps me believe that it's highly likely for Jacob to make a return and to have a power boost for when he does. After all, focussing all that attention on the training wand is way too convenient for it not to come up again in the future. Meaning we're most likely going to get more pain from Jacob if he shows up again.

Camila Beats the Crap out of Jacob for Vee: ...Writers, don't make me choose between Camila and Eda on who's the better cartoon mom. I know Eda's technically not a mom...BUT I STILL DON'T WANT TO CHOOSE DAMNIT!

Also, the sandal...just...

Why the f**k does Camila have a sandal in her purse? I don't know. Is it still funny that she does? Most certainly.

Camila and Luz’s Talk in the Rain: Ooooooooh, I was not ready for this...

I wasn't ready for the crying.

I wasn't ready for the hurt in Camila's eyes when she found out Luz chose to stay in the Boiling Isles.

I wasn't ready for Camila asking if Luz hates being with her that much.

I wasn't ready for Luz profusely stating how it was never Camila's fault.

I was not ready for Camila to tell Luz that she'll try to do better.

And I definitely was not ready for Luz to barely have enough time to promise that she'll come back.

This episode wasn't the twenty-two minutes of nonstop angst that I thought it was going to be...but this short scene more than make up for it.

Luz Tries to Stay Strong: Yet another thing she unwittingly learned from Camila. Camila tried to keep a brave face when Vee was with her and Luz, most likely not wanting to tear either of them down in the process. Luz does the same thing here as she avoids talking about the details of what went down in her sort-of journey back home. And seeing her clearly fake smile slowly droop into an uncertain frown, it uh...it definitely tore me up inside.

WHAT I DISLIKED

I want to say it's perfect, but there's one major issue that really bogs this episode down.

Continuity Error in How Vee Replaced Luz: Having Vee take Luz's place the same day Luz appeared in the Isles is a smart idea on paper...if it wasn't for the fact that it's impossible.

Because Eda closed the portal door the second that she saw Luz, meaning that there's no way for Vee to go to the human realm. It's a major plothole that makes no sense, and it might just be the first time ever that this series wasn't so closely knit with its story. Which ends up taking a dive in quality in the process.

IN CONCLUSION

I'd say that "Yesterday's Lie" is an A-. Everything about Luz, Vee, and Camila is incredible, combined into a story that ends in tragedy and uncertainty for the future. That plothole may drag things down a bit, but everything else is handled so well that I'm not lying when I say it's easy to forgive and forget.

(And that's ten episodes in a row without a single stinker. HOW THE F**K DOES THIS SEASON KEEP WINNING?!)

#the owl house #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #luz noceda #camila noceda #camila is a good mom ok!#toh vee #emperor belos #what i thought about #the owl house reviews

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

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SH - Songfic! One-sided!John x Reader, Sherlock x reader - Someone Like You - Word Count: (including lyrics) 1,278

I heard that you're settled down

That you found a girl and you're married now

I heard that your dreams came true

Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

"Hi John! It's Y/N! How're you?" You'd lost contact with your best friend/crush after he went to war. You knew he'd survived because you may have scoured the internet for anything on him and found his blog with info on where he lived now. You lived in America now and simply didn't have the money to travel there. It took you a long time though to track down his number. Even so, it took you years to work up the nerve to call. Once you did, and once you started catching up, you almost wished you'd left the memory as it was.

Old friend, why are you so shy?

Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light

It took him hours on the phone to finally admit that he'd gotten engaged. The wedding was in a few months. He asked if you wanted to come but you said you'd never have the money and not to worry. He seemed happier than ever being in a relationship but he didn't seem to want to talk about it with you. You finally said your goodbyes and you cried yourself to sleep.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited

But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it

London. You never thought you'd be back here. It smelled right. It felt right. But you were scared. John had told you where he lived. But you decided to go meet his famous ex-flatmate first. Sherlock liked you. He actually approved of you. Of that you were both glad and flattered. You loved John. Sherlock was nice but you hadn't felt the spark you had with John. Maybe you just didn't want to. The one thing that did draw you closer together was that you both were dealing with the inescapable and quickly approaching loss of John.

I had hoped you'd see my face

And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

John knew. He'd always known. He loved you too when you were younger. But ever since he came back from Afghanistan, he was scared. Scared to see you and fall back in love. He didn't want to burden you with the broken man he'd become.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you, too

He found Mary and couldn't believe it. He actually loved her. She had helped him immensely and changed his life. She reminded him of you in some ways. But he realized he had moved on.

"Don't forget me, " I beg

"I'll remember, " you said

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

He still thought of you. When you called he was happy to hear from you. But he just didn't love you anymore. You realized you'd waited too long. You had been too scared and he hadn't been able to wait for you.

You know how the time flies

Only yesterday was the time of our lives

We were born and raised in a summer haze

Bound by the surprise of our glory days

Growing up, John and you had been inseparable. School, weekends, summer vacations, graduation; you did everything together. You couldn't imagine living without him.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited

But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it

I had hoped you'd see my face

And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

Somehow, John still didn't know you were in London. It had been months since you arrived. Sherlock invited you to stay with him at 221B and you accepted. You helped Sherlock with his best man speech and he begged you to come with him to the wedding. You hesitantly accepted after much convincing.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you, too

If only you could have recorded John's surprise when he saw you arrive early with Sherlock. You took your seat of course, since Sherlock had Janine to walk in with but it was actually kind of fun to watch the preparation. As you watched them run around making last minute adjustments, you found yourself watching Sherlock, not John. Sherlock was quite the man. Tall, handsome, kind in his own way, and helpful to his true friends. Your spirits began to lift and you could almost feel your heart letting go of John.

"Don't forget me, " I begged

"I'll remember, " you said

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

It still hurt watching the vows and you knew you'd never forget your love for John but you had a newfound joy. Sherlock had been quite nice and friendly with you over the past few months. You'd learned to read him fairly well and perhaps he liked you. Maybe this relationship would be the one to last. But you knew you couldn't wait too long.

Nothing compares, no worries or cares

Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

At the reception, Sherlock introduced you to Greg, Molly, and Tom. You knew Mrs. Hudson of course. You sat with them and watched as Sherlock delivered his speech. After Sherlock played his special waltz for John and Mary, you saw him wandering a little.

"Sherlock!" You called out, seeing him head for the door. "Leaving so soon?"

"I, um, I'm not really needed here any longer. I was just going to-"

"I need you." He looked at you quizily. "To dance with me and keep me company. Please Sherlock?"

"Alright," He replied. You headed back to the dance floor together. He put one hand on your waist and took your other hand in his. Midway through the song you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. You sighed contentedly. "Are you alright?"

"Quite."

"I am," He paused for a moment "I am pleased you're feeling well considering, erm," he cut himself off, not wanting to address the matter directly.

"I've found someone new," you replied simply.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you

"Don't forget me, " I beg

"I'll remember, " you said

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

"Are you sure you want to pursue this?"

"Yes, Sherlock. I've thought it over all day."

"Only today? I don't think you know what you're getting into."

"Trust me, Sherlock."

"Ok, I suppose we could try," he replied. A small smile was playing on the corners of his lips.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you, too

"Don't forget me, " I begged

"I'll remember, " you said

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

"So, you and Sherlock, huh?" John asked. His feelings were obviously mixed. Slightly jealous but happy for you both.

"Yep," Sherlock replied for you, popping the P.

"Well, I wish you the best," John replied whole-heartedly.

"I wish you and Mary the best as well, John." You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"For what? I'm the one who broke your heart," he said guiltily.

"If it wasn't for you, I'd have never met the love of my life." He smiled. "You may want to start writing your best man speech, John," You joked. "I don't see this relationship fading at all. This one's built to last."

#sherlock bbc #sherlock x reader #sherlock imagine #john watson #john watson x reader #songfic #someone like you #angst with a happy ending

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jungkookiebus · 4 years ago

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The Client pt. 3 | kth

Genre: sexworker!au x smut x angst x fluff (for real this time) Pairing: sexworker!reader x taehyung Word Count: 6k Rating: 18+ Warnings: multiple orgasms (m&f) x taehyung and reader are basically switches x oral sex (m&f) x cum eating x fingering x nipple play x cum swapping? x unprotected sex x creampie Summary: The painful weeks after Taehyung’s accidental confession have the both of you living in agony. Just when the both of you thought you were over the other, you quite literally run into each other in the rain. Taehyung walks away from you into the dark night. Do you have the guts to go after him?

Taehyung’s days drug by endlessly. Each day stretched further than the next when all he wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible and pass out just as fast. When he was asleep at least he didn’t have to think about you, that is, if his brain decided to give him a break. Sometimes he’d dream that he got to replay that night again with you being none the wiser and he never said it. He’d get to see you again. But then he’d wake up to the harsh reality that simply wasn’t true. Then his miserable day would start all over again. He knew better than to request an appointment and he had written and rewritten the same email that now sat in his drafts, collecting hypothetical internet dust. He also made sure not to go to that same café again even if it was close to his office. Any thought of you sent a pain into his chest so sharp he could hardly stand it. You had probably forgotten how foolish he had been and moved on from him, just another client lost to the crowd. And in a way, Taehyung wished for that, but he was very wrong.

Your POV

Two weeks earlier

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You blinked fast, hoping they would just go away but the emotion was too strong. Taehyung had just told you he loved you and you could barely breathe as you looked at him, watching as his face turned red in shock.

“Taehyung, please clean up and leave.”

He didn’t even bother using the bathroom this time. He fumbled as quickly as he could with his clothes and exited the room but not before shooting a pained expression in your direction. You tried to direct anger at him because you needed him out of the room as quickly as possible and it seemed to work as he shut the door behind him. You burst into tears as soon as the door clicked shut and you curled up on your side as you shuffled under the blankets.

You had been in this line of work for years. This was your life, your passion and you didn’t see it as some skeezy side job that helped pay the bills, no, this was the job. Your interest in sex and various sexual partners was why you decided to go into this line of work, you had never been made out for relationships and you were beginning to think you were incapable of romantic feelings until you met him. But since this was your job, you quelled those feelings because, just as the job entailed, you had to put on an act. You hadn’t hoped that he noticed the little extra you poured into each session, and maybe he didn’t, but you suddenly felt responsible for this. There was no way you could have a relationship with him, not in this line of work. Jealousy was a bitter bitch and you weren’t about to deal with that.

But what if he didn’t care?

No, shut up. You can never expect someone to be okay with your sex work…

You cried a little harder into the sheets. No feelings. It was in all your contracts because you thought you didn’t have feelings, not in a sociopathic kind of way, but…you gripped harder at the sheets as you screamed into a pillow. Why did this have to happen to you? You needed to get home, but you were too miserable to move. Reaching out of the covers you reached to the bedside for your phone, thankful there were no missed calls or texts, you had to give him that. Going into your calendar you canceled all your next week’s appointments and followed it with a lengthy email feigning sickness and some half-hearted explanation on how to reschedule. You weren’t in the mood to see anyone right now and you planned to use the next week to get a little retrospective.

The week didn’t make anything better. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but he hadn’t tried to contact you at all. He was staying true to your contract’s rule of no feelings, staying out of your way and not requesting an appointment. Maybe he thought you had moved past it and was just hoping you’d forget. That would be the best for both of you. So why did it hurt so badly?

You opened your schedule just for the following Monday and a frequent client took one of your two spots immediately. You almost wished that he had at least tried to schedule but there were none. The regular exhilaration you felt about work was gone as you read the client’s requests. Such bland and boring things. Taehyung’s thighs in the white, silk stockings popped into your head as you dropped it into your hands. You squeezed your eyes and willed your brain to shut up as you groaned inwardly. His sharp breaths were in your ear as he held you close to him, his thigh between your legs. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes again. Why did he have to go and fucking say something? The both of you could have continued living this lie for a little longer. Your fingers dug into the roots of your hair as you willed yourself to stay the fuck away from your phone. Do not go texting or emailing anyone. You felt the softness of his curls dust across your fingertips. Your entire body ached, and you felt feverish. What was this feeling? You hated whatever it was.

Your appointment didn’t go well, which caused you to cancel your second slot and left the rest of your week off the schedule. You weren’t in it. He could tell and so could you. A job you once had passion in now felt cold and it scared you. Maybe when you saw your therapist again, you’d tell her about it, but for now you were going to stay home and away from technology.

Taehyung POV

Three weeks later

The pain had started to hurt a little less as time went by. Enough so that he had agreed to go to a party this coming Friday, finally feeling enough like himself to get out there again. His friend wanted to introduce him to some girl that worked at his firm and figured this was the fresh start he needed.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he held the paper bag wrapped bottle of wine he had procured on his way home from work. He wore a large, soft sweater and dark pants. Soft, he thought to himself. You had always liked when he dressed this way. He shook his head to clear the memory from his mind, wiping it clean with one swipe. Setting his shoulders straight he headed out of the door of his apartment and into the night. The air seemed to be charged with electricity. He squinted up through the city lights to see if he could get any glimpse of the night sky, but he didn’t see anything. One block into his six block walk, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled across the sky. He groaned as he realized his clear lack of umbrella. He quickened his pace, hoping he could make it before it started to pour.

Your POV

The night sky lit up above you as lightning streaked across it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You pulled your sweatshirt closer, not that it was waterproof, but you guessed it was something. You had two bags slung on one arm as you walked back home from the grocery store but had no idea the weather was supposed to get bad tonight.

“What did I do to deserve this?” you asked, face towards the sky as you felt the first drop hit your cheek.

You still had at least four blocks and by the way the wind picked up, this was going to hit sooner rather than later.

“Just don’t let me get pneumonia.”

You walked a little faster as the raindrops picked up. You heard with dread as behind you, they began to hit the buildings and pavement with more ferocity. Cold wind picked up, whipping around you, and bringing with it, cold ass rain. You shivered as it almost instantly soaked into the back of your pants and you cursed the minute you decided to step out of your apartment. You were stopped by a traffic light on a corner, continued to get soaked as you waited for the light to change. You dodged puddles as you skipped across the street quickly and didn’t realize there was someone else approaching just as quickly on the otherwise empty sidewalk. You didn’t have time to react as you ran square into someone’s chest before stumbling backwards. The stranger reached out for you, and to their credit, grabbed your hand but went down with you anyway. The both of you landed directly into probably the deepest puddle you had ever seen in your life, but at this point you were used to your shitty luck.

“Look, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Your entire body seized in fear because you knew that voice too well and it haunted your dreams, causing the new bags under your eyes. You wanted to sleep to forget, but you were afraid to fall asleep in fear that you might see his face.

“S’okay,” you mumbled quietly, gathering your bag and trying to stand quickly.

The rain poured harder and at this point you were soaked to your underwear and fucking miserable. Your back was to him as you attempted to flee the scene.

“Hey! Wait! Are you okay?” he called after you.

“Fine!” you called over your shoulder. The rain was pouring so hard he probably couldn’t hear you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder before he spoke. You were right under the streetlamp when you stopped dead in your tracks.

“This fell out of your bag.”

You had to turn around to get it back. Walking away would just be creepy and weird. Your hood was still up, but he’d know. You swiveled on your heel and looked up before you even fully faced him. His dark curls stuck cutely to his forehead; he was just as wet as you. His eyes widened in surprise and you looked down at the obvious bottle of wine in his hand. Looked like he was going on a date. So he had moved on. That’s exactly what you wanted so you weren’t sure why the pain in your stomach was so sharp. The apple sat in his hand so delicately and you suddenly missed those fingers more than you expected yourself to. You reached for it slowly and grasped it tightly before taking it.

“Thank you,” you mustered up. If any tears were to fall it wouldn’t be like he’d see them.

He looked pained and in shock. You were the last person he expected to see.

“Y-you’re welcome,” he stuttered out. He turned quickly and made his way down the sidewalk and back into the wet night.

You watched as he crossed under the next streetlight, tall frame falling into shadow again as he moved farther and farther away from you. You still stood, raindrops hitting the plastic bags and making your clothes feel ten times heavier. Your chest burned and you barely felt the cold as you cried, telling yourself to turn around and go home, but everything in your body screamed run.

You barely heard the cans, fruit, and glass bottles hit the ground as you dropped the bags and sprinted in the direction Taehyung had gone. The rain hit your face harder and it felt like you were running into the heart of the storm. He hadn’t left that long ago, so you should catch up to him soon, right?

“Taehyung!” you yelled as you tripped around an outdoor restaurant sign.

Tears fell freely now as you ran, feeling your shoes rubbing blisters on your heels as you slipped in them. Maybe he had turned down another block.

“Taehyung!” you yelled again as you stood on a street corner, but the sidewalks were barren.

You turned in circles, sobs coming out freely now as you gave in to the heartache. You had fucked up everything and now you were paying for it.

“_______?” you heard behind you.

You turned quickly and Taehyung stood, equally as soaked, and still clutching the wine bottle.

“Taehyung.” You were so surprised you weren’t sure what to say.

“I heard you calling me.” You saw the puffs of smoke drift from his mouth as the temperature dropped. You needed to get this out fast.

“I love you, too. I know it’s stupid. I know I said no feelings. I know I made you sign a contract. I never thought I was capable of loving someone else, but you did that for me. Over the months,” you gestured as you laughed nervously, “I started feeling things I had never experienced and that scared me. It was something I talked to my therapist about and,” you realized you were rambling and took a deep sigh. “I don’t want to let go of the one person who brought me those feelings.”

Taehyung stared at you, face unreadable as he searched yours. You felt that strange dread you always felt as a kid when you did something wrong, it ran from head to toe and made you feel sick. He was angry because you had rejected him and now, here you were, telling him you loved him. You knew it wasn’t fair, and you wouldn’t be mad at him if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings now.

The wine bottle hit the pavement with a dull crack as he moved forward. He had you gathered in his arms and lips on yours just as the sky opened a little wider, lightning lit up the buildings in an eerie blue glow. Thunder cracked overhead and tumbled across the sky like falling rocks down a mountainside. But Taehyung’s lips were warm on yours and you felt relief wash through you. Though, you felt as if you didn’t deserve it, he had accepted you.

“I don’t want to keep you from your date.” Your words came out shaky as you shivered, cold hands against his wet sweater.

He looked a little stunned at your comment.

“It wasn’t really…a date.”

Your heart plummeted again, despite getting what you wanted.

“Besides, fuck that date.”

He grabbed your hand and headed in the direction of his home, which was coincidentally not too far from yours, but he was in an upscale high rise closer to downtown. The both of you dripped across the marble of the lobby as he directed you to the elevator. You both stood, shoulder to shoulder, shivering, and exchanging awkward glances as you made it to his floor. Once he had you in his apartment, he turned the heater on low, as he guided you through his tastefully decorated apartment. Expensive looking art donned the walls of the hallway he led you down and each had their special lighting. The bathroom he led you too was fit for hotel suite as he stepped into the walk in shower and started the water. He stepped back out and up to you, hands tentative on the bottom of your soaked through sweatshirt. He pulled the dripping fabric over your head and you shivered as the cold air hit your skin. You crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm as he peeled your sweats off your legs.

“Get in the shower,” he said softly.

You slowly walked inside, easing under the stream of warm water, and reveled in the feeling of your limbs finally defrosting. He followed behind you, stepping under the rainfall shower with you, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

“I breached my contract.”

His hand was reassuring on the back of your head as your cheek pressed against his chest. He was right and you had every right to do what you did, but you wouldn’t have felt bad about anyone else.

“Yea, that wasn’t very fair to throw that at me.”

He held his breath a little, expecting you to tell him the truth, but still not ready when you said it.

“I know. My mouth moved before my brain could catch up and I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

He sounded so sincere in his apology and he hadn’t tried to contact you at all this entire time.

“What now?”

Taehyung’s POV

What were you supposed to do now? He hadn’t really expected to be here in this position. Across the bathroom, his phone vibrated on the counter. Probably his friend wondering where he was as he stood up his somewhat blind date. But he was exactly where he wanted to be three weeks ago, standing here with you in his arms. He wanted to ask if you were real. You shivered slightly as you continued to warm up and he held you closer to him. He missed the feeling of your skin against his. You were here with him and it wasn’t an appointment and he wasn’t under any contract.

Instead of answering your question, he released his hand to tilt your chin upwards so that he could kiss you properly. You sighed softly against his lips and he felt the familiar flutter in his chest that he only associated to being in your presence. His lips were against yours in a gentle kiss, touching just for a moment when he whispered.

“Use me.”

You looked startled by his statement and somewhat confused.

“W-what do you mean?”

His thumb was against your chin, rubbing lightly along your skin as he continued to stare into your eyes. He wanted you to know that everything he said from this point forward was from his heart.

“Use me like everyone uses you. I know it’s your job, but when was the last time you did something you wanted? Use me in any way you want, anywhere you want. You name it, and I’ll do it.”

You were biting your lip as he spoke. He knew you were doing it in thought, but the action had him wanting to bite down on the pink flesh himself, but he waited. You searched his face as he watched the gears in your head turn. It seemed as if this were the first time you were being asked this question. He slid his hand along the small of your back, drawing you closer.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he dipped lower to your face again. You blushed deeply as he brought his face closer. “Are you shy now?”

“No,” you whispered.

“You know,” he started, “the last session; the one I—anyway, you were behind me one day in a coffee shop by my office, but you were on the phone so you didn’t notice me.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “You looked so casual, so relaxed, so you. I wanted that version of you, so that’s who I created for that session; that was the only way I could really be close to you.”

A knowing sigh passed your lips and cooled the water on his face. “I had begun to wonder…I suspected you had feelings some time ago.”

He felt ashamed for letting too much through and putting you in a difficult position. In a sick way, it worked out for him, but he was hoping that with time you’d let him make it up to you.

“What would you like me to do?” He let his voice drop, sounding gentle, but tried to entice something from you.

Your POV

Your body shook at the timbre of his voice and you wanted to basically climb him right here in the shower. What fantasy of yours did you want? There were so many. A few didn’t fit into this situation, some were questionable, maybe a few were embarrassing, but you knew he would do literally anything you asked of him.

“Do you still have the stockings?”

You felt him grow a little bit harder against you, cock twitching on your stomach as the hand on your back tightened.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“The shirt?”

“It’s at the dry cleaner, but I definitely have a substitute.”

Reaching behind you, you turned off the shower.

“Put them on.”

Taehyung complied immediately, stepping from the shower to grab you a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dried himself quickly as he slipped into the connecting closet. You towel dried your hair so that the cold water wouldn’t drip down your back as you waited. A few minutes passed before he stepped back out of the closet. Instinctively, you started at his feet, admiring the silk wrapped around his calves and then his thighs. His cock was fully erect now, a subtle pink glow to his skin. The shirt he had on looked expensive and tailor made. He left it unbuttoned, but it fit perfectly across his broad shoulders, sleeves ending at his wrists. You walked forward and rubbed the fabric between your fingers. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, and it flowed like air across his skin. The white of the shirt only accentuated the honey color of his skin as you ran your fingers over his stomach.

“Will this be okay?” He sounded like a child waiting for appraisal from its elder.

“This is perfect, Taehyung,” you said while still running your hands over his body. They now rested on the outside of his thighs. You really did like the way he looked in these.

Slowly, you eased yourself to your knees in front of him. He looked surprised as his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. Something primal inside of you stirred as he stood towering over you, wrapped in soft fabric, with his hard cock right in front of your face. To say you missed him would be an understatement. You wrapped your hand around him gingerly, knowing just how sensitive he was. His hips barely moved as your soft hand closed around the base. You ran your other hand up his stockinged thigh, feeling his muscles flex beneath your palm. He groaned as you reached around to grasp a handful of his ass in your hand. Pushing him forward, you guided his cock between your lips and sunk as far as you could, your nose kissing your finger. His hands flexed at his sides as he further became submissive in your hands. He was falling and was more than willing to receive whatever was at the bottom. You held him there in your mouth for a few seconds, letting him feel the warmth of you wrapped around him, tongue moving along the sensitive skin on the bottom of his cock. You watched him as his head tilted down to look at you. His hair hung in half dried curls, framing his perfect face and suddenly you thought you had never seen anyone more beautiful than him. You slipped back slowly, leaving your hand at the base, until just the tip was nestled between your lips like a lollipop. Sucking lightly, you came off with a pop, never breaking eye contact. His body flushed with goosebumps as your eyes continued to dare him to look away. Precum still leaked from his cherry red tip. It glistened in the bright lights of the bathroom, beckoning like a sweet dessert. You wanted more of him, to devour him whole and make him yours forever. Taking him in your mouth, you sank down quicker this time, pulling back and setting a rhythm. His muscles twitched beneath your hand as you kept it on his ass, almost pushing him in time with your mouth. His moans pitched, echoing off the marble walls, a symphony with the most beautiful note. He was biting harshly into his bottom lip as he kept his eyes locked on yours. He wanted so badly to screw his eyes shut but didn’t dare look away. You saw his eyes well with tears, a few escaping down his nose until it dripped perfectly underneath your own eye. Your name tumbled from his lips in quick gasps now.

“_ ____, I’m g-gonna come, oh my god.” He didn’t seem to be getting enough air as he forced his orgasm to wait. His skin was hot beneath your hand and his cock was so hard in your mouth you were sure he was using a great amount of self-control.

Not wanting him to lose it, you pulled off quickly saying, “Come.” Before you sank back down on him, removing your hand and pushing him far back into your throat. His groan was guttural as he almost doubled over, fingers soft on your shoulders in case he lost his balance, as he came in hot spurts down your throat. He was against your gag reflex, but you focused on breathing through your nose and concentrated on your breath. Both hands were tight on his thighs now just so you could feel the way they moved beneath your hands. His hips stuttered forward into your mouth in a few shallow thrusts until you felt the last drops. No longer able to breathe this way, you pulled off his cock and quickly swallowed so that you could exhale.

“Fuck,” you whispered through a raw gasp.

Taehyung’s hands were on his knees as he stumbled backwards, ass meeting the cold counter, and he slumped back. He looked like a perfect statue carved from the most precious stone. His dark hair stuck to his cheeks in sweat or water, you weren’t sure which. The white silk shirt was soaked through and plastered to his skin and it accentuated the soft muscle of his chest. It opened perfectly to expose his stomach and frame his bottom half. His cock was still hard, and the stockings had stayed in place. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together as you drank him in. He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at you, finger coming up in a ‘come here’ motion. You stood, sauntering over and his eyes raked over your body hungrily. Slotting yourself between his legs, you ran your finger under his chin, and then your thumb over his bottom lip. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for your next command.

“You have to make me come no less than three times.” You let your eyes flutter innocently to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “By any means possible.”

Taehyung inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer again. With a sigh he kissed you and you fell into it, body, and soul. One of his hands went between your legs as he continued to devour you. You moaned, fingers digging into the stockings as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, gathering every bit of you that spilled on his fingers before circling your clit. You gasped in his mouth as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and twisted lightly. You moved your hips over his fingers, and he stilled, letting you do the work. He pinched a little harder on your nipple as he bit down on your bottom lip. You moved faster now, circling, and grinding your hips on his fingers. God, how you missed these fingers. You were all but crying into his mouth when your muscles began to tense. Your calves ached as your toes curled painfully, but the pain wasn’t going to make you stop the rhythm that was soon going to send you over the edge. As your whines pitched and your entire body began to shiver, Taehyung twisted your nipple harshly and pressed harder against your clit. You ground against him, breathing heavily through your nose as Taehyung seemed to be intent in gathering every moan you had. You couldn’t help the clench in your jaw when you came, making your lips immobile against his. You keened and your breath seized in your chest. His lips were at the corner of your mouth as you wet his fingers even more, hips slowing to a halt as you finally let out an exhale.

“One,” he whispered as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

Your body was already beginning to feel the sleepy side effects of your orgasm, but you knew you could take it. He pushed you back lightly as he stood in front of you, placed his hands on your shoulders and switched positions, picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter.

“Now it’s my turn,” he smiled as he dropped to his knees. He spread your legs as wide as he could, warm hands on the insides of your thighs, so that he could get a better look. Your skin shone with your cum and Taehyung didn’t want to waste another second without tasting you. He leaned forward and licked a long, slow stripe up your center. His tongue dipped inside of you quickly and curled. He drew it back out and swallowed.

“How does it taste?” you asked as you buried your fingers into his hair and pushed him a little harder against you when his lips were back on you.

“Mmpf,” he moaned into you as he fucked you with his tongue. His nose pressed against your clit as you wound your fingers into the hair at his nape. He shook his head quickly against you and with your other hand planted on the counter behind you, you began to move your hips against his face. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull you as close as possible. His eyes opened to meet yours and his pupils were so blown that you could no longer see the chocolate color there. He looked beautiful between your legs on his knees, almost as if he were born for this. His mouth told you this truth. He knew your body more intimately that any other client you had ever had. He knew the perfect ways to edge you, and at the end, have you coming so hard that your vision darkened. He moaned now, sending vibrations straight into your clit. Your entire body was so hot, and it was soon hard to keep your sweaty palm from slipping against the counter. Holding his head, you ground as hard as you could and with the combination of his tongue and the deep rumbles escaping his throat, you came again. He kept his mouth on you, tongue hot inside as you clenched. He drank you in as if you were his last meal. Gently, he nuzzled his nose against your swollen clit, licking up all that he could of you. When he sat back, you saw your creamy cum on his lips and chin. You grasped his chin, forcing him to rise on his knees as you came down, licking the cum from his lips slowly. It was bittersweet against your tongue and Taehyung moaned. Your tongue was past his lips and the taste of you was even stronger on his.

“Are you tired yet?” he asked smugly when you pulled away.

“You wish.”

His smile was devastating as he stood. What you wouldn’t give to see that smile every day of your life. Were you willing to sacrifice for him? Mid-lust ____ probably shouldn’t think about this right now. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you as he leaned, looking at your face.

“Can I make love to you?” he asked.

Your body flushed and shivered involuntarily, and you felt new arousal bloom in your stomach. Something about the way he said it had you wanting to simultaneously coo over him and fuck his brains out.

“Yes.”

What more was there to say? He rubbed his cock along your slit and your gaze cast downwards to watch. The stockings still looked perfect and the shirt was still giving him every favor. He pushed in slow, feeling your swollen walls take him in fully. When he bottomed out, you gasped and clung to his shoulders as his hips began to move. His breath shuddered against your skin as he buried his face into your neck. His fingers dug into your hips as he quickened his pace. You weren’t sure what you did to get blessed with someone whose cock curved perfectly into your g-spot, but in this moment, you weren’t complaining. Your clit was already so sensitive that any move against it had your stomach clenching and your eyes rolling. It really wouldn’t take much for him to make you come a third time and you were really hoping he wasn’t taking this as a challenge. You wove your hands under his arms and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as you pushed yourself more into him. Taehyung breathed heavily against you.

“Are you going to come, princess?” He picked his head up and was now placing hot kisses to the underside of your jaw. Your body felt as if it were about to melt through the counter and you clung desperately to him. You couldn’t even talk, your chest burned, and he was hitting your g-spot so rapidly that you could barely form a simple word. But for him, you would do this.

“T-tae,” you stuttered.

He didn’t stop as his lips that were against your cheek, parted. “Yes?”

“I love you,” you whispered as you gave into the feeling of him. Your third orgasm hit and this one melted into your body, soothing and erasing all the bad things that had happened in the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure if what you heard from him was a choked sob or just the sheer force of his orgasm, but seconds later he spilled inside of you, hips still moving. He shivered in your arms again. You let him thrust through his orgasm even though you felt as if you were on fire. You’d do anything for him. When he looked at you again, you realized that he had begun to cry. Tears welled in his soft eyes as he cupped your cheeks. He sniffed and his eyes moved rapidly as he looked at every part of your face. Your hands were on his wrists, gently applying pressure.

“Tae, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head as he sniffed louder and laughed. The tears spilled freely now and the juxtaposition to his smile was almost haunting.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His tears slowed and his dewy cheeks began to dry. His hands were still pressing softly into your skin as he seemed lost for words. “I just still can’t believe you’re here.”

The full weight of his feelings for you and all the emotions you flowed through the last few weeks, came rushing down on you like a tidal wave.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, too!” he cried as he quickly wiped at the tears escaping the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. We’re meant to be happy right now, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said as you gently shushed him. “I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“So,” he whispered softly, face open and innocent, “do you think we can make this work?”

Could you? Who knew? There was much to talk about, and you weren’t even sure where you would start. You definitely needed to talk to your therapist about this but, right now, you knew you didn’t want to let this feeling go. You had gone years thinking you weren’t capable of love or being loved. Who knew it would take a client of yours to pull out those feelings you were sure your brain had dumped at birth? How far were you willing to go?

All you knew was that you were ready to traverse even the most difficult path if it meant Taehyung would be waiting for you at the end.

“Yea,” you whispered back as you squeezed his wrists a little more, “I think we can make it work.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #reader insert #sexworker!au #nonidol!taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung #the client #part 3

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years ago

Text

~Jungkook soulmate AU~

It’s that same dream again. You’re standing on stage in front of tens of thousands of people. They are all shouting your name, but you can’t hear whose name they are saying. You look to your left and can make out 6 other guys. One with light brown hair and dimples when he smiles. One with black hair who nearly falls off stage when he laughs. Another one with bright purple hair who’s laugh makes you feel warm inside. There’s a guy slightly taller than you next to you. His voice is quite deep but his eyes sparkle when he looks at the crowd. You look intently into his eyes, trying to see if you can see your reflection in them but it’s of no use. Your image is blurred out in them too. A smaller man with silver hair is talking now. His eyes remind you of a cat’s, but there is a softness in them when he is looking at the fans. And there’s the final member standing at the end, who’s smile looks like it could rival the sun’s. You have no idea who they are, every time a name is said the sound is muffled. You feel that fate is toying with you. Letting you see through the eyes of your soulmate, but not letting you hear the exact things that would make you able to find out who they are.

And just like every other dream you’ve had previously, right before your soulmate is about to introduce himself, you wake up, startled and covered in a cold sweat. You glance down and inspect your body, making sure it is yours you are back in. You sigh heavily and lay back down against the pillows glancing up at the ceiling. So far you knew very few things about your soulmate.

1. He was obviously in amazing shape. In one of your dreams one of the other guys had lifted your shirt up and the crowd went wild. You glanced down in curiosity and were pleasantly surprised by the amount of muscle that was on your body.

2. He was obviously a singer or performer of some sort. And was in a group with 6 other guys.

3. He was Korean. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying but you had googled a few words you thought you had heard and discovered that they were in Korean.

4. He was loved and adored by many. The group must be popular if they are performing on front of this many people.

5. Finding him was probably going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Googling the hair colors of the other members had yielded many search results. Apparently lots of idols had dyed their hair purple. And a few others had dimples as well. You weren’t able to fully see the other members. Most of their faces were blurred out except for the few features the dreams allowed you to see. These must be the ones that stood out to your soulmate the most, or that he particularly cherished about them. You were at least fairly confident that your soulmate was in a kpop group. A very popular one at that. But you could never tell what country they were touring in so you had no way of even narrowing it down by which city they were in.

Your phone alarm suddenly went off, signaling that it was time for you to get up and go to your office and meet with your publisher about the release date for your latest story. It was a tale of two soulmates, their only connection being through their dreams. And you gave the main characters a happy ending in hopes that it would allow fate to give you both the same kindness.

Jungkook woke up startled. He shot out of bed with his eyes wide and heart racing. He got out of bed in an attempt to ground himself. His feet touched the plush carpet of the hotel room. The feeling helped center him in reality. He walked towards the mirror and turned on the light, seeing his own reflection staring back at him was a comfort. He turned the handle on the faucet and let the water run until it was ice cold before splashing it on his face. When he glanced back up, his hyung was staring at him in the mirror.

“Did you have that dream again?”

“Yeah. Same one. Actually, well this time it was different. I don’t know it’s hard to explain. I finally got to meet her. Instead of the usual where it’s me trying to figure out clues on how to find her. But her face was blurred. I couldn’t make out any defining features. But goodness when I was finally able to hug her it was like every worry or concern I had just melted away. I really want to find her but I don’t know how and it’s so frustrating! I’m living out the main character’s lives in her novels and this one is literally our story. She gave them a happy ending, so I can only hope the same happens for us.” Jungkook’s voice cracks at the end and he’s immediately enveloped in a hug. “It’s so frustrating, Jimin. I have all these clues but no idea where to even go with this.”

“It’s okay, Jungkookie. I know you two will find each other some day. Soulmates always do. Let’s go over again when you know so far?”

“She writes novels. She lives in a big city somewhere. She speaks English. Normally the books she writes are fantasy ones but this one was realistic. I think it’s her way of helping me find her maybe? Like maybe if I look up the plot line of this next novel I can find her.”

“So start there then!”

“I know a lot of English now since I have been studying but I don’t know how to look up this plot line.”

“Maybe just look up new books about soulmates and dreams? See whichever article looks to be the most recent?”

“I’m sure many people have written about this before, hyung.”

“True. But your situation is unique. You’re famous. Surely she knows this from the dreams she’s probably had about being on stage from your point of view. You just need to find one with the plot centered around that.”

“That’s... actually a very good idea. Thank you, Jiminie.”

“Jiminie hyung to you. And you’re welcome! Now come on it’s still early. Go back to sleep for a little bit we have to prepare for the first date of our world tour tomorrow! We’re gonna have to be up in a couple hours.” Jungkook groans at this.

“How am I supposed to sleep when the possibility of me meeting my soulmate is so close?!”

“Just figure out a way. You can look for her tomorrow. Right now you need sleep. We don’t want you passing out on stage, so come on now!” Jimin shoves him out the door and Jungkook reluctantly crawls back into bed. Jimin walks to the door that connects their two rooms. “I’ll try to look for you tomorrow too when I have time, okay? That can be our focus after rehearsal is done.”

“Okay. Thank you, hyung.”

“Of course.”

Jimin shuts the door and all is quiet. Jungkook tries to sleep. Really he does. But really, he’s potentially one Internet search away from finding you.

Resist the temptation, Kook. You can do it. Be strong!

He rolls over onto his side and gazes out the window... Then promptly turns back around and grabs his phone off the hotel nightstand and does a quick search for the plot line of your book. An article comes up so he clicks on it. He sees that your book is being released in just a few short days! And as fate would have it, one of the signings just so happens to be in the same city as one of his concerts. It has to be you. There is no doubt in his mind. You have the same hair and build as the girl in his dream. He clicks play on a video where you are being interviewed about your own book.

“It’s actually my own story. Well, although mine isn’t finished yet. I see things that my soulmate does through my dreams. He is actually someone famous in a boy group. I know he’s Korean. But that’s about it. I’m hoping through this book he’ll be able to find me, since it’s our story...” You go on to talk more but Jungkook cannot hear it over the pounding heart beat in his own ears. It’s you! It’s really you! He shouts happily and begins flailing about in the bed when suddenly the door is swung open, and a very grumpy looking Jimin is standing in the doorway.

“Jungkook, what on earth-”

“I found her, hyung! Her name is y/n! Look!” He practically shoves the phone in his face and Jimin has to back away to let his eyes focus before they widen in shock.

“Oh my god! You really did! This is amazing! And look one of her book signings is the same day as our tour date! Kook! You’re going to meet your soulmate in just a few days!” Jimin tackles him onto the bed and rolls over next to him, looking fondly at the maknae as he’s endlessly scrolling through your social media, watching your interviews, and reading up on what he can about you.

“She’s beautiful, Jimin. And everything I could have imagined and more. Oh my goodness look at how many books she’s written she must be so smart and creative. And listen to her laugh!” He goes on like that absolutely gushing over you. “I’m going to message her.”

“No! Jungkook, don’t.”

“Why not? I’m positive it is her.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be more meaningful to have your first interaction be in person? You can just show up at her book sign and boom! There you go. Couple of the year. Couple of the century. I wonder what’s your couple name going to be.”

“Jimin you sound just as excited about this as me.”

“Because I am! Our little Jungkookie is finally going to meet his soulmate. But seriously now it’s time for bed. You gotta be up in 2 hours now so at least try to get some sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, Kook. Sweet dreams.”

“Oh I have a feeling from now on they will be.”

**The day of the concert and book signing**

You’re on the way to your fan meeting when suddenly a billboard and flash of purple hair catches your eye.

BTS to perform at the stadium tonight at 7pm!

“Stadium? Wait a minute.. The purple hair.. the silver... His eyes. Oh my god!” You run up to the billboard to get a closer look but by the time you get closet it’s changed to a different advertisement. You sigh heavily, pulling out your phone ready to snap a photo the next time it scrolls by. When it does you take a photo and closely inspect it.

“Oh my god I am an idiot. How did I not notice this sooner! My soulmate is in BTS. Holy shit.” You gaze at all of their faces until you see one you’ve never seen any defining features of in your dreams. “That must be him. Jungkook? Oh he’s so cute oh my god.” You pull out your phone and lose yourself in the searches, watching interviews, looking at pictures, watching a music video. “They are so insanely talented it’s not fair and oh! Look at these photos of him when they debuted! What a little cutie I wanna squish his cheeks.” Your fawning is interrupted when a call comes in from your publisher. You glance at the time and realize you are late to your own book signing.

“Shit. I’m so sorry! I got side tracked but I am on my way!”

“You better hurry up y/n! There’s a ton of people here right now! What on earth were you doing?”

“I found my soulmate! Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry what? Did you say Jungkook, like BTS Jungkook?”

“Yes! Do you know them?”

“I’ve been a fan of theirs for years. I’m actually going to their show tonight. My friend bailed on me last minute so I have an extra ticket if you want to go with-”

“Yes! 100 times yes, please take me with you!”

“Ok ok! You can come with me just.. how are you planning on finding him?”

“....”

“Y/n? You still there?”

“Sorry. Just thinking. I didn’t plan that far ahead. They’re basically untouchable how on earth am I going to ever meet him?”

“Oh come on y/n. I’m sure fate wouldn’t be that cruel to you! Have a little faith.”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up. I think for now I will just be content with admiring him from afar. Anyway I gotta go. I’m approaching the building now. Bye.” You end the call and your heart sinks. You have no chance of meeting him. You’re from different countries. He’s in arguably the biggest band in the world. You probably can’t get within 10 feet of them without getting tackled to the ground by their security. And besides he’d probably just think you were some crazy delusional fan. You feel disappointment and sadness threatening to spill out as tears, but quickly shove it back down as you see the line of your own fans waiting to meet you. You plaster a smile on your face and enter through the back, sitting down at the table and just hoping this time will pass by quickly so you can go home and sulk before the concert.

As the line begins to dwindle you notice a gentleman at the very back of he line. He’s dressed rather casually, in sweat pants and a huge Carharttt t-shirt. You admire the tattoos on his arm and wonder what the meaning is behind them. He’s wearing a bucket hat and sunglasses, and a face mask, clearly not wanting to be noticed. Either that or he was an axe murderer come to make you face your doom. You laugh internally and quickly shake that thought away. You always did have an overactive imagination after all, you are a writer. When he finally approaches the table you can’t help but feel a weird fluttering in your stomach. Like your gut is trying to tell you something. You are uneasy and aren’t sure why. He seems to be feeling the same if the way he’s constantly looking over his shoulder around him is any indication.

“You’re not some serial killer here to make me meet my untimely demise are you?”

“W-what? No! What the hell? Why on earth would you think that?” You can’t help but find his accent adorable.

“Gee, I don’t know! Maybe because clearly you don’t want anyone to know your identity! Easy for a quick getaway if no one knows who you are. And you keep glancing around all suspicious to see if people are watching you.” You lift your eyebrow and give him an accusatory glare,

“If I didn’t want to be identified in a crime I would have covered my tattoos.” He lifts and eyebrow at you back, as if to challenge you further.

“That’s a fair point. You got me there.” He starts giggling and says something in Korean. Your heart goes flying into your throat as the realization hits you.

“I don’t want anyone to see me because I don’t want to get mobbed by my own fans. And I’m nervous because wow you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He lowers the mask for a second and you gasp audibly.

“It’s you! The guy from my dreams!”

“You use that line often?”

“Oh my god shut up. It’s really you?!” You stand up from the table and reach your hands across it, squishing his cheeks between your hands.

“What are you doing, weirdo?” You can barely make out what he’s saying as it’s muffled due to your playing and pinching his cheeks.

“Making sure you’re real and that I’m not dreaming again. How did you find me? How are you here right now, isn’t your show starting soon? Oh my publicist is gonna flip her shit when she sees you here-” He covers your mouth with his hand and tells you to shh, lifting his mask back up to cover his face.

“I said I didn’t want to be recognized remember?” Your eyes widen and you nod your head. He lowers his hand, and you can tell he’s smiling brightly at you by how his eyes are crinkling at the corners. “Hi. I’m Jungkook.” He holds his hand out and you smack it away, opting to run around the side of the table and throw your arms around him instead.

“I think we’re a little past handshakes.” His arms tighten around you and you rest your head against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his chest against your ear. You sigh happily and feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head. You glance back up at him and see his mask is gone again. And he’s absolutely beaming at you.

“You have the most adorable smile I’ve ever seen.” You don’t mean to speak this out loud but figure you must have by the way his cheeks are flushing bright red.

“Um, T-thank you. I like yours too. And your eyes. And your voice and just... everything.” Now it’s your turn to blush. You glance away from him and notice that everyone has cleared out of the store, seemingly went about their business to give you two a moment of privacy. “So, I was wondering. Do you want to come to our show tonight?”

“Oh! My publicist actually already got us tickets!”

“But I’m sure they’re not front row, huh?”

“Well.. no they certainly aren’t but-” He pulls two tickets out of his jacket pocket and hands them to you. “Here. I look forward to seeing you tonight. I’ll put on an extra good performance just for you.” He winks and ruffles your hair playfully and a giggle bubbles out of you.

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“We’ll be there!” You hear her yell from somewhere in the the store. You both laugh at that and you notice him staring at your lips. He starts to move in before you give him a playful tap on the lips with your finger tips. He looks at you in surprise.

“You at least have to take me on a date first before you get to steal a kiss from me, Mr. Jeon. Just because you’re my soul mate doesn’t mean you get special privileges.” He smiles and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well.. how about after the concert then? We usually all go out for dinner anyway but we can go out just the two of us.”

“I would really like that.”

“Okay then. I’ll um.. see you in a few hours then?”

“Oh you’ll see me alright. And you’ll probably hear me too. I’ll be screaming my lungs out yelling your name.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to his lips as he kisses the back of it and holy- his lips are so soft it makes you nearly take back your words from just moments before, thinking about how they would feel on yours.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too. I’m looking forward to everything. Finally getting to know you, and talk to you, I want to know everything about what makes you the kind, sweet person you are.”

“We have time. All the time in the world.”

“I can’t think of any better way to spend it.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #reader x jungkook #bts soulmae au

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thatgirlwritingficsatnight · 4 years ago

Text

Odi et Amo I

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Catullus, 85

After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?

pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

genre: actor au

warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 5582

A/N: Hi this is my first fanfic ever, and so there are few things I have to say before you hopefully enjoy reading it. 1. English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors. I’m sorry, perhaps in the future there will be someone to proofread my works. 2. I’m terribly sorry for my interpunction :( for some reason they don’t teach it here and so it may be terrible. I am reading about it more but it’s not easy for me as I haven’t practiced enough. I’m really sorry if it’s awkward. 3. This was supposed to be long oneshot, but I was told not all people enjoy long reads on tumblr like I do, so I decided to make a miniseries out of it. Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you want me to write some scenarios, or post more of my works (i have a lot of them in the depths of my drive lol). Love, thatgirlwritingficsatnight.

***

You sat in spacious sofa in your old apartment in Korea. A sigh leaving your lips as you looked through the headlines.

"The black sheep of Korean show biz comes back after four years in USA"

"Whose heart will she eat now? National heartbreaker came back to Korea"

"Go back to USA you wh*re! - internet went wild over L/N Y/N"

"L/N Y/N comes back in outrageous style"

Most of them were a summary or perhaps a reminder for k-netizens why they should hate you; it's because you dated who you wanted to and for how long you wanted to, it's because this one time in the talk show you told off male host when he kept asking about your private life and because the other time you told another one to stop giving you all the questions about clothes and make up while your male co-star got to answer some deep questions about character development and that's to name the few reasons that came instantly to your mind. Of course some articles had to focus on your airport fashion too. The conservative Korean society had a problem with your bra, or rather a lack of thereof under your designer t-shirt. You left out an irritated groan as you scrolled to the comments. They were vicious and vulgar, you don't know what else did you expect honestly. You tossed the phone and buried your face in your hands fighting the urge to tweet something about the nasty people and how they should keep their antediluvian opinions to themselves. You sighed again perhaps if you were in a different country you'd do that, but here with systematic misogyny, where women were supposed to always smile and nod their heads, here where they got paid 60% of men's pay... you'd most likely be crucified. Then again who if not you would come to your defense? You knew the answer — no one, that realization was enough to anger you even more. The blood was boiling inside you as you snatched your phone back and went into Twitter silently mouthing apologies to your manager who'd be blowing your phone in just a few minutes.

"Yes, I don't wear bras. No, it's not a topic for your article nor your problem. I also know it may shock some people but my dating life is not a topic for your entertainment either."

"It baffles me how Korean society thinks its country is in the group of one of the most civilized ones but still treats women as if we were stuck in 50s."

Your phone was already blowing with notifications, you could see some new articles already popping and soon after that it buzzed as your manager tried to reach you. You silenced your phone and left it on the coffee table while you moved to the kitchen. You got yourself a lamp of wine and watched always busy streets of Seoul from a window. It was already dark and it looked like rivers of light with cars and street lights constantly illuminating them. You were deep in your thoughts as you pondered if you made a good decision. You had a good life in California. You had your best friend there, a house with a pool and many good opportunities for roles you declined. In those four years you became an international star after your role as Marvel's White Fox — a gumiho superhero. You knew in a year or two Disney would ask you to come back to make more movies and most likely you would but you couldn't stay in the USA any longer. Somehow, even though it seemed illogical considering the warm welcome you've got, you still missed your home. You missed Korea the country that loved to hate you. You weren't exaggerating when you said they loved to hate you, for instance you always played villains in Korean films and dramas and the Korean audience loved it. They loved to hate your characters and so every time you tried to audition for a role that would be first or second lead you'd always be cast as the villain. The very first time you played a good character was when you portrayed the White Fox for Marvel, they chose you because you were half American (on your father's side) and because you used to play femme fatales and that was kinda the character. You accepted the role secretly hoping that it would change the way Korea has seen you. It didn't. They said you were too Westernised and that you weren't true Korean and had their own perfect casting with actresses that weren't as scandalous as you. Well, at least the rest of the world loved you. Nonetheless, you came back. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or for how long, or even if you'd work here or just relax; you were just happy you could eat unhealthy convenience store food whenever you felt like and that kimchi was a standard and not something you'd only find in specific shops. Speaking of, you craved some ramyun with cheese and perhaps some yakult as well. You changed your clothes into a pair of black sweats and a black hoodie and chose to wear a black cap and face mask as well. You checked yourself in a huge mirror in the corridor. Your outfit screamed two things: first was "I am a crazy murderer from drama" and and second "look at me I'm a celebrity". You sighed. Honestly what else could you wear? You decided not to change and went out to the nearest convenience store.

You walked slowly taking your time to get to the store while listening to Def Soul hoping lazy beats would calm your nerves. You bopped your head to the rhythm as you entered the store and went straight into ramyun section. You picked your favourite spicy one and grabbed some cheese, yakult and cherry coke. The girl working there seemed really young and you caught her yawning. She apologized and you smiled warmly although she probably couldn't see it through the mask.

"Don't worry about it I'm tired today as well." you said, and she smiled. You paid with a card and regretted not withdrawing any money so that you could tip her. You remember when you were just a bit younger than her, working in similar way but back in the USA; she’d appreciate extra cash. You took the ramyun to prepare it and hummed as you waited for the noodles to get soft. Food always got you to feel better. You were spreading cheese on your noodles when middle-aged men entered the shop. Soon you'd believe it's not your night or perhaps that you got some bad karma, or that you were just cursed. The men came up to the cashier and asked for a pack of cigarettes. You were about to slurp the first noodles when he spoke.

"When will you finish your shift cutie maybe I can pick you up?" He chuckled and the girl tried to smile politely although anyone with eyes could see how uncomfortable she felt. She tried to decline his advances with a small scared voice clearly she was too young to feel comfortable enough to just curse him out.

"You sluts are always the same. You smile at me flirt with me and then act all fucking.."

"Aish!" you didn't let him finish. And he turned your way surprised someone else was in the store. "I lost all appetite," you dropped the chopsticks next to the bowl and moved your gaze at the male: disgust was rolling off from you in waves, and he flinched upon meeting your eyes, "then again who wouldn't if they had to eat in the presence of trash?" You watched as his face got all red and furious, it seemed almost twisted now. "How dare you speak like that to me, you bi..." once again he couldn't finish his sentence this time you silenced him with your swift actions. You closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed his hand firmly. Then you put it behind his back and twisted it painfully enough for him to groan.

"Call me a bitch, I dare you." you said quietly, but he didn't respond, he just jerked trying to escape your hold. He smelled like tobacco, digested alcohol and grease. You scrunched your nose and took him out of the store. You pushed him lightly, and yet he still lost balance and fell. He shot you a glare full of hate and fury while you tried to remain calm. Truth to be told you were scared, yes you jumped in to help the girl, and successfully silenced him, but that was most likely only because he wasn't sober. You were silently asking universe to help you out as you mustered your courage and played your part of "fearless Y/N”.

"Leave or I'll call the police and tell them you harassed both me and the girl." He stood up and spit under your legs before he left. You sighed, a tight knot unravelling itself finally in your belly, adrenaline that was brought up with the surge of fury disappearing now, leaving you bit wobbly. You made mental note to thank the director of The White Fox for making you take those material arts classes, they came in handy. You came back to the store, you didn’t pay attention to the girl that watched you in awe. You just wanted to enjoy your noodles. Finally, able to take the bite you let out disgusted groan they got too soft. Letting out resigned sigh you opened the yakult.

"Miss Y/N.." small voice started next to you. The girl was blushing and smiling. She was cute, had long brown hair and a mole just under her left eye. You smiled back and it seemed to encourage her. "Thank you. You are like the coolest unnie ever. I will always support you and fight anyone that calls you names and.." You chuckled at her eagerness and sudden flood of words. "Thanks kid. What's your name? "Kim Seoyun." "Nice to meet you Kim Seoyun. I'm L/N Y/N." you said with a smile, and she blushed even more. You looked through the window and bit the inside of your cheek. What if he comes back when you're gone, you couldn’t risk it. "Tell me Seoyun when do you end your shift?" She took out a phone from her pocket. "Oh, in ten minutes." "Great I'll wait for you and order you a taxi." "Ah, unnie you don't have to… you already helped me enough and.." "Nonsense", you cut her off "he may come back and I'll sleep better knowing you are safe at home."

She nodded and came back to work. Leaving you with your soggy and lukewarm noodles. You thought about throwing it out but you hated wasting food and so you made yourself eat at least a bit although now it was cold and awfully soft. Ten minutes passed rather quickly and soon you found yourself standing next to the taxi with Seoyun. You gestured her to get in, but she stood in front of you and suddenly bowed deeply while extending her hands in front of you. Much to your surprise she was giving you a popsicle.

"Y/N-unnie I know it's not much but I wanted to thank you..."

You grinned at her while taking the gift. You quickly unwrapped it and tried it, it was strawberry flavoured.

"Thank you. It's the best popsicle I've ever had." You said honestly. Seoyun blushed and entered the car but before the taxi took off she lowered the car window and screamed.

"Y/N-unnie from today I'm your biggest fan! Unnie fighting!" You laughed.

"Mmm. Thank you!" After that car took off and you happily walked back home. Earphones in, phone in your hand as you decided to order some food since the ramyun sadly haven't been quite satisfying. You slurped at the popsicle even though it was the time of year when nights got colder. The taste of strawberries melted on your tongue. It was the first time someone in Korea told you they were your fan, it was also the first time a Korean fan gave you a gift. Despite the chilly air, and cold ice against your lips you felt warmth spreading from your chest. Grinning to yourself, you scrolled through different restaurants still thinking of what should you eat and then you bumped into someone or rather someone bumped into you. Popsicle fell to the ground and so did your phone with earphones brutally torn out from your ears. The man who bumped into you was in a very similar attire as your own he even wore a mask and a cap. You frowned upon realizing the gift from your first Korean fan was melting next to you. You were however about to apologize before he spoke in irritated tone while collecting some boxes scattered around you two.

"Next time watch where you're going." The blood inside you boiled the third time this evening and you snapped back at him before he could add anything else.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going." your tone was so aggressive it was clear all of the frustrations from today's evening build up in you. You gathered your things quickly.

"Excuse me..." he said straightening as he glared at you. His tone was promising a fight or a lecture at least. You didn't feel like any of that so once again today you didn't let someone finish their sentence, a habit of yours as it seems.

"Apologies accepted, asshole." you said fiercely and left him standing there with his stupid boxes in a state of shock. You got into the elevator and decided not to pay anyone any more of your thoughts tonight. You smiled at wooden popsicle stick and quickly forgot about the man downstairs.

Jinyoung was still shocked but also amused by your witty comeback. He knew he reacted upon his emotions when he was rude to you. He was just angry that he had to move the second time in the last two months. Sasaengs somehow found out about his last apartment in which he lived for only two weeks and just started feeling at home. Few days ago they found him, and he was harassed once again. Tired and angry he acted without thinking when you bumped into him and his belongings scattered. He wanted to apologize right away but you growled back at him, and he got irritated, so he wanted to lecture you or at least tell you not to interrupt other people when they are speaking, but you did just that and in very smart matter at that as well. Now Jinyoung was riding an elevator trying to pinpoint your face, he was sure he had seen you somewhere already. He entered his flat and sighed as he realized he had to unpack once again. He decided it could wait till morning.

You were woken up by both pounding and drilling in the wall behind your head. With long groan you pulled a pillow over your head but it didn't help much. You checked the time on your phone. It was seven thirty in the morning and you couldn't fall asleep till three - courtesy of your jet lag. You tried to ignore it hoping that you were sleepy and tired enough to fall asleep, unfortunately to no avail.

"Who the hell does the renovation on Saturday morning?" you asked your own walls with furious tone. You left the bed deciding to speak with the person next door. You didn't even bother to change from your PJ or brush your teeth, or hair, or even to throw something over yourself. You left your apartment in your bunny pyjama set, a gift from your best friend. Soon you were pounding angrily at the door. It took quite some time before the drilling inside stopped and someone opened the door. The man who opened seized you up and down with his eyes and coughed in his fist diverting his gaze somewhere else.

"Can I help you?" he asked his voice was a bit distressed. "I sure hope you can. It's Saturday seven in the morning." you were fuming, and he finally looked at you although he kept his eyes stuck to your face. "Ah... thank you for informing me. Are you working as personal calendar and clock for all of your neighbours or am I on some special treatment?" he asked sarcastically and smirked which made you: first bewildered and second even more mad if that's possible. "Let me rephrase that for you: it's Saturday, early morning and you are drilling in a wall." "Well, technically it was Mr Ahn who was drilling, I was enjoying myself with a book." He clearly enjoyed teasing you, there was this gleam in his eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit too early for a renovation?" your voice was seething with venom although you tried to keep your cool. "Quite contrary. I checked with the building manager, and I am only supposed to keep quiet between ten p.m and seven a.m. as you can see I even waited thirty minutes." He smiled at you and in that second you hated him, his stupid brown hair, strangely symmetrical face, weirdly tight cardigan and the fact that you couldn't do much since he was in the right. You just turned on your heels ready to storm off back to your flat when he spoke again. "Ah, and might I add I just love your fashion sense." he raised one brow and his eyes once again travelled through your body. "Excuse me?"

"Apologies accepted." Your face went from frowned and angry to shocked in a second, and he laughed at your reaction before closing the doors and leaving you cursing yourself, your luck and your best friend who thought it would be cute to buy you pyjama set which contained of hoodie with ears and a bunny tail and some shorts.

You entered your apartment, deep red setted on your face from both anger and embarrassment. As soon as you closed the doors the drilling continued. You cursed under the breath and went to shower. You stood long under the stream letting the water wash away both dirt and emotions. Once you were clean and ready for the day you’ve decided to ditch your flat for now since it was too loud for you anyway. This time you went for less sporty look but still all black. It was a turtleneck, slacks, martens and a beret. Chic and comfortable. You did your makeup and hair and went out for breakfast. The car was already waiting for you when you got downstairs. You pulled a black mask over your face and greeted the driver who didn't talk much and so you didn't have to worry about the small talk. You scrolled through your phone checking the messages you got from your manager — there was about twenty of them and somehow each was written with different emotion: rage, irritation, sadness, hopelessness and so on. You sighed knowing that you should probably apologize for the troubles you caused him. Then again what were you supposed to do, not react when half of this country is calling you names? You signed back in your Twitter only to be greeted by thousands of notifications. Most of which were trolls and haters commenting on your tweets with occasional death threats in your DMs. You tried your very best not to read each and every comment knowing that even though you were strong it still affected you. You were; however, positively surprised when you found some supporting voices. There was your best friend (obviously) who fiercely defended you and called out everyone on their bull, he even threatened legal action and you smiled brightly at his tweets, but there were also few Korean celebrities who took your side and defended you as well. Most importantly there were few normal people, fans perhaps, who applauded you and thanked for speaking out. You smiled when you saw user "Y/NUnnieFandomPresidentSeoyun" somewhere in your notifications. Somehow traffic was still bad even on weekend and it took you forty minutes to get to the café you had in mind. Once you got there however you didn't regret time spend on travel. It was café in quiet part of town, it wasn't very popular since it wasn't in Gangnam but because of that it was one of your favourites. No paparazzi, no dispatch, no other celebrities.

The place itself wasn't very big but it had huge windows and was located in front of the park so you could easily grab a coffee and go for a walk or just stay inside and watch people and kids spending their time at the park. The interior wasn't anything special either, it wasn't one of those Instagram worthy cafés. It had simple modern style. You came in and ordered coffee and some toasts and sat in front of the window. There were few people inside so you sat without your mask freely and wondered if your friend was already sleeping. It was around nine here so in Los Angeles it was probably midnight. You texted him asking if he's sleeping, and he just responded by facetiming you right away. His black hair was still wet from shower, and he wasn't wearing any shirt.

"Yah! Y/N-ah!" he scolded you immediately. "How dare you not text or call your best friend for over a day. Do you know how worried I was?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"It's not like you contacted me either. And put some clothes on Tuan."

"Never. I know you secretly love watching my chest."

"Gross. Anyway.. I haven't called because I was tired yesterday, you know jet lag and all of that, so don't get mad at me."

"How are you now?" His playfulness was replaced by concern and it was clear he wasn't really asking about the quality of your sleep which was in fact terrible thanks to your lovely neighbour.

"I'm fine." He gave you the look. "Really. Honestly I didn't expect anything better from what I got, so I'm fine Mark."

"I shouldn't have let you go. You know what? Those people don't deserve you. Come back to the USA and let's live together again I'll even cook. Or I can come to you I'll fight them and keep you company. I'm can easily stream from there.." You giggled at him and he grinned. "You know I'm serious though you can come back I already miss you anyway. God, I should have married you maybe you wouldn't leave me Y/N-ah..." he was whiny again and you laughed. It was an inside joke between you. Both yours and his parents would always tell you to just marry already but neither of you felt anything romantic towards the other one. You'd known each other since you were two and both of you had treated each other like siblings ever since.

"You should have and now it's too late. I'll find myself new victim and feast on their heart like a true gumiho I am." you said in theatrical manner while munching on your toast.

"Honestly who the fuck writes those articles?"

"I don't know but I'm pretty sure... Oh my god. You've got to be kidding me." you said and tried to lower your face down so that the person passing in front of the window you've been sitting by couldn't see you.

"What? What? Is that paparazzi? Your ex? Is that paparazzi rented by your ex?" You frowned at your friend.

"What? No? It's my asshole neighbour." "Never heard of him. Why are we hiding anyway? You can just tell him to back off. Last time I checked you were great at that." He showed you two thumbs up and smiled broadly. "I'm hiding because I'm embarrassed and I don't want to talk to him." "Why?" he laughed. "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything it was that stupid PJ you got me..." you whispered at him while trying to make yourself as small as possible. "Oh my god. One day in Korea and you already got yourself a one-night stand. This is not how I raised you. What would your mother say?" he teased you and giggled. "For the love of... it's not like that." you said angrily a bit too loud perhaps since the men in question who was just ordering by the counter turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. His neutral expression changing to surprised before it transformed to smirk. You cursed yourself and Mark and bowed your head slightly and awkwardly before you turned around to face your now laughing friend.

"You should see your face."

"Shut up. I hate you."

"You love me."

"What a surprise." Third voice spoke up by your side and you cringed a little before you put on your cold mask on.

"A surprise indeed." You said, your neighbour moved his eyes from your face to the screen of your phone carefully placed against the glass. Mark was still there, still half naked and smirking at you.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No." you and Mark said at the same time and you send him death glare regretting that you couldn't kick him right now. "I was about to go to sleep anyway. Love you."

He disappeared without waiting for your response. You let out soft sigh and reach out for phone.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The man was already sitting next to you. He was smiling at you and perhaps any other person would say it was a warm type of smile but you felt like he was mocking you. Constantly. You straightened up in your seat and eyed him closely. He was wearing the same tight cardigan, it was accentuating his broad frame and muscles hidden underneath soft, brown cashmere and simple but well fitted blue jeans. You had to admit he was handsome and had somehow angelic face which only made you cringe once you compared it to his personality or at least to what he showed you already. "I don't think that's a good idea." You said after a pause, his expression didn't change for a second, and he sipped on coffee that blushing waitress brought a few seconds ago. "How so?" His voice was sweet and melodic, it irritated you even more. "I am a celebrity, there might be an article about me having coffee with you tomorrow." You kept your tone intentionally bored as you played with the spoon. He laughed and you changed your mind his speaking voice couldn't be called melodic when his laughter sounded so beautifully.

"That's funny. I'm celebrity as well I think I'll survive." It wasn't surprising at all, he was too good-looking to not be an idol, a model or an actor perhaps. You held back another sigh. You could already see the headlines "Y/N attacks again will this man keep up with her appetite" or perhaps "One day in Korea, and she already dates — check out Y/N and her new boy toy". "Yeah I doubt it." you said but quickly added. "Weren't you supposed to renovate your apartment anyway?" "I left it to Mr Ahn it got too loud for me to read in peace."

"I can imagine." Sarcasm was basically dripping from your tongue which only seemed to amuse him even more. His eyes were now twinkling and you thought that he must be a devil in disguise. "I must say it's very lucky that I met you here. What are the odds, right?" "Ah I wouldn't call it lucky, that's for sure." You were currently planning how to escape from this conversation. "So how about we get to know each other a bit better?" He proposed with a warm smile. "I don't think so. I don't even know you." "Oh. That's harsh you do know me. I'm your neighbour and this is our third meeting." He placed a hand over his heart and frowned in pain and you wondered how can one still look handsome while frowning before he continued. "Besides I can fix that. I'm Park Jinyoung nice to meet you. See now we know each other." You fought and urge to roll your eyes and you summoned the most polite looking smile you had in your arsenal. Your phone rang before you could say anything and you've never been more happy to see your manager's face appearing on your screen.

"I'm sorry I have to take it." you said politely, and he just nodded. "Oh I wasn't expecting you to pick up." "Ah manager-nim don't be like that I haven't been picking up only for one day." "Why are you so polite are you with someone?" "Yes." You glared at Jinyoung, he was watching you with a smile with coffee in his hand. "Ok, I can call later." "No!" you almost screamed and cleared your throat trying to remain composure. "No, it's fine." "O-ok. Do you have time today? We should meet and talk I just got something that may interest you. It's really nice drama. I know you said you don't want to play in any of those romantic stories but hear me out this one is..." you'd roll your eyes if not for your neighbour's curious eyes. "Of course when and where will we meet?" You decided to cut off his rumbling. "Really? Before departure, you said you won't play in any stupid drama again." "Ah, I see. I did say that. We should meet today, text me the address then." Hanging up on him, you hoped he got the brains to follow up with text. He thankfully did and your phone barked. Jinyoung laughed again and you gave him confused look. "Did your phone just bark at you?" You blushed against yourself. Was it so weird to have a dog's bark as your message sound? "Ah... yes. I like dogs." You cringed on yourself. Somehow today in front of this man you were constantly losing your cool. He either irritated you or made you flustered enough to forget any eloquent comebacks or eloquence at all. "Anyway it was nice meeting you Jinyoung-ssi but I have to meet up with my manager."

"Oh you're leaving without even properly introducing yourself?" He cocked a brow on you and smirked. You stood up and looked at him coldly. "I'm sorry I don't feel the need." You were about to leave before he spoke again. "Ah… running already... startled... like a true bunny. Come to think of it... it does have a nice ring into it, doesn't it? Bunny. It suits you and you even have a costume already." His voice was so extremely mocking that you felt the irritation buzzing in you like electricity. Not to mention he spoke so loudly the waitress that was blushing at him before now listened carefully. You groaned internally. What if she writes about it somewhere. Media won't let you live especially that he is your neighbour they'd say he is already in love with you. And "bunny" was such a couple pet name. You were in the midst of your internal crisis before he decided to speak again.

"Have nice day bun.." You reacted before you thought, your hand slapped against his mouth before he could say anything more. His eyes got bigger, he was clearly shocked that you were so close to him, that you touched him and that you didn't really care about your language. You on the other had were fuming. You've met your fair share of fuckboys, assholes and idiots but not one of them that had similar status to yours acted with such insolence in public where other people could see you. Well, almost none, perhaps your ex was the only one. You kept your voice quiet, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Shut up. And watch your tongue before I pull it out because the universe be my witness I will and I'll do it with pleasure. My name is not kitten, bunny or any other pet name your buffoon head comes up with. It's Y/N. My name is bloody Y/N." You hissed out and his hand reach out to yours. It was hot from coffee and soft even though his grasp was firm. He took your hand of his mouth and smiled.

"Nice to meet you."

You took a step back and send him the look that must have looked like you were trying to shoot daggers at him.

"I'm sure it is. Now if you excuse me. I don't want to be late."

You rushed to counter to pay only to find out it was already taken care of by Jinyoung. You furrowed your brows and wanted to give him his money back instantly but your phone buzzed and it was your cue to leave. The driver was here.

To Mark 🐰 💙 : One day Tuan... you'll pay for this betrayal

From Mark 🐰 💙 : ILY 2 good night. P.S. He seemed hot 👀

You rolled your eyes how hot was he didn't matter if his sole personality drove you crazy only after three brief meetings. You sighed. This was not how you wanted to spend this day: enraged twice and on your way to see your manager.

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rukakikuchi · 4 years ago

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Dreamcatcher "Odd Eye" MV analysis and Dystopia storyline theory

We're finally here! Dreamcatcher has released their newest mini-album, and the final installment of their Dystopia trilogy, "Dystopia: Road to Utopia." With that title, you would think that we'd see the girls reach their happy ending, right?

Well, not exactly. This storyline and what its ending means is much more complicated than a simple "happily ever after". So, before we tie together these three music videos, let's take a look at "Odd Eye" and analyze what's unfolding here.

Cyberpunk dystopia

Right off the bat, the concept for this comeback is something we haven't seen Dreamcatcher do: a cyberpunk concept! They are shown now in a very futuristic looking dystopia with lots of technology.

Even the tree of language, something that was prominent since the "Scream" era, is shown to be affected by this futuristic setting. There are wires connecting to its roots, as if feeding off of it... or perhaps, rather, corrupting it.

In the past, the tree was corrupted by dark magic, which caused people to forget how to say good things and spread harmful words. During the "BOCA" era, they were trying to purify the tree by shutting the mouths of those who were spreading hurtful words, silencing them.

However, with the advancement of technology and social media, hate can spread much faster now. Thus, the tree is being corrupted again, not by dark magic, but because of human technology. Social media, the internet, and television can be extremely influential to a person's mind, thus easily spreading evil.

So, what happens to those who become a target to said evil?

The meaning of the "Odd Eye"

The "odd eye" is another concept that is very prominent in this comeback. After all, it's the title of the leading track. The members even have odd eyes visible in the promotional art (seen more clearly in behind-the-scenes photos), their comeback showcase, and of course, the music video.

Heck, even the starting position in the choreo is an eye!

But why do they have odd eyes in the first place? Well, through my history with watching various anime, and other K-pop groups *cough*LOONA*cough*, having an odd eye will usually mean one of two things: either you have magical superpowers (or you're a chuunibyou pretending to have powers) or you're a robot/cyborg.

Given we've already established we're in a cyberpunk setting, I'd say the latter is more likely. Yes, I believe that the girls are cyborgs in this setting, and their odd eyes are proof that they're not human.

Gahyeon, in particular, I believe is a special case. Most of the other members I feel like still have their humanity, but Gahyeon is eerily very robotic in her solo scenes. I think she might've lost all her humanity and is more close to a robot (or specifically, android) than any of the other members.

Almost everyone gets one scene that clearly displays their odd eye, namely JiU, Siyeon, Yoohyeon (hers is through her phone), Handong, and Gahyeon. SuA doesn’t “show off” hers, but her odd eye is still there if you look close enough.

The only one who I have trouble finding is Dami. I think this shot of showing someone’s odd eye might be her.

SuA also has some strange looking text written on her face. Maybe it's related to the tree of language?

But more importantly, I think the odd eye's purpose is for the girls to see just how distorted their reality is. The lyrics talk about being deceived by an illusion or lies, only to see and realize the truth about their world.

There's a shot where it shows a poster taped to a wall, and it's a tree with the word "reality" under it.

Siyeon is also in a cage with several TVs and the word "reality" is seen in the static. It might be that the use of social media is brainwashing and distorting everyone's perception of reality, and those who possess odd eyes that can see past the lies become outcasts.

Yoohyeon actually starts out in a room by herself, sitting in a mask shaped chair, with a red liquid in a glass and a TV in front of her. She might've been in that brainwashed mindset that her world was perfect before starting to see the lies and decided to rebel, drinking the red liquid and obtaining her odd eye. Essentially, she ate the forbidden fruit and was cast out of paradise.

No more utopia

Because of their odd eyes, the girls can see just how flawed the society they live in is. What they thought was the utopia they dreamed of turned out to be an illusion. By the end of the song, they realize that they will never stop facing adversity and despair because their ideal utopia does not exist.

Even at the end of the music video, it shows us a final shot of the tree with the text "In the end, the Dreamcatchers could not find the Utopia that they dreamed of."

Although it's a bittersweet ending, the girls themselves actually said this song is a message of hope for people to find their utopia within their hearts. Don't strive to find something perfect, because it doesn't exist. Find something that is real, makes you happy, and is worth living for even if you have to face hardships.

Now that we've analyzed "Odd Eye" on its own, let's see how it ties together with "Scream" and "BOCA" and the overall theme of the Dystopia trilogy.

Three eras of Dystopia

What I find super interesting is that we essentially get three distinct time periods within the Dystopia storyline, showing us three different kinds of "dystopia".

First in "Scream", the music video feels like a fantasy setting, where the girls are a coven of witches. When Gahyeon touched the dark crystal, a curse was released that corrupted the tree and the girls, causing war to break out and hate to spread. In the end, they were consumed by their anger from all the pain they felt.

Then in "BOCA", we are shown a more modern, urban dystopia. The girls are in a city setting, acting as a rebel group trying to silence those spreading harmful words and help heal the tree. They sympathized with those who were hurting and wanted to stop any more tragedy from spreading.

And finally in "Odd Eye", we are in a futuristic setting where technology has taken control of everyone's lives and the girls are now cyborgs realizing utopia is far beyond their reach.

I see these three relating to the "hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil" proverb. "Scream" is "hear no evil" (they even say "I don't want to scream"), "BOCA" is "speak no evil", and "Odd Eye" is "see no evil".

In all of these videos, the group actually play dual roles: the goddesses who protect the tree of language, and a group of girls who are outcast for different reasons (witches, rebels, or cyborgs).

Their goddess selves did everything they could to heal the tree from the corruption, but the evil became too powerful and they had to watch their own paradise burn away.

JiU even goes from holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, to that bouquet burning while she is now blindfolded. It kind of reminds me of the image of Lady Justice, whose blindfold symbolizes impartiality.

Again, it's a harsh and bittersweet truth of our reality; there is no perfect utopia and there will always be evil in the world. There will be people who face adversity for being different from the norm.

But just because it's not obtainable, doesn't mean we can't still change the world for the better. We need to be mindful of what we say, have more sympathy, and strive for finding true happiness within ourselves, not a false utopia.

===

And that does it for my analysis on "Odd Eye" and the Dystopia trilogy! Ultimately, the storyline in these three MVs were all focused on the toxicity of social media and online hate culture, especially with how it relates to the music industry. It's amazing how Dreamcatcher have crafted this interesting story with such a strong message.

Now that I've finished this analysis, I plan on working on another small theory regarding the Dystopia storyline, so look forward to that when that comes out.

Until then... Stream Odd Eye! Stan Dreamcatcher! 👀

#Dreamcatcher #KPop #Music #Theory #Analysis

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evebrennan · 3 years ago

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not nothing

TIMING: circa two weeks ago LOCATION: The Artesian PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli & @evebrennan SUMMARY: Metzli and Caoimhe aren’t just two people having drinks, but they both enjoy art, and maybe that’s better. CONTAINS: Alcohol, parental death, emotional abuse, domestic abuse

It was a bad idea. Caoimhe knew it the moment she’d read Artesian and piano player and Arvo Pärt. Any lingering doubts about how completely awful of an idea it was were chased away as she pushed her way through the doors, picking up the soft piano drifting from the back. She considered the initial offer of a karaoke bar, the tossup between beyond-drunk humans singing their hearts out for no other reason than because they loved to sing and no talent whatsoever was still a far better bet than whoever was plucking at keys one room over. At least at a karaoke bar her chances were fifty-fifty.

Her chances were none. But she wasn’t in the habit of denying herself entirely (she’d been there, she’d done that, it did nothing for the strings trailing down the road behind her), and she let herself step fully into the bar. The door clicked shut behind her and Caoimhe tried not to think about it.

Metzli was exactly the kind of hard to find Caoimhe expected of an internet-initiated meet-up, but she managed to catch their eye before too long. “This was a good choice.” She started, because it was. It was, with the piano filling the spaces between conversation. It was, despite the way her stomach twisted in on itself and she thought about it, thought about the way the pianist fumbled only barely on occasion, but she could– “And it’s Kee-va, by the way.”

“Yeah, I would’ve never gotten that right,” Metzli smiled and chuckled warmly at Caoimhe, settling into their seat and enjoying the table the two received. Far enough from the stage to hear each other easily, and close enough to let silence fall between them to listen to the pianist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Caoimhe. You’re much more beautiful than I could’ve imagined.” Their smile continued, pulling out their charm.

Metzli wore a navy suit, leaving the jacket unbuttoned for a more relaxed look. Accompanied by a black dress shirt and no tie. It gave off a casual energy. Because that’s what this was—a casual meet up with a woman. “My name is pretty straight forward, just mets-lee. Aztec in origin. And yours?” Getting in the VIP lounge was easy, throw in some money and it speaks for you. Thus, the saying, cash is king.

The wine arrived promptly, and the waiter filled their glasses as the two kept their focus on each other.

“Easy, charmer. Just drinks.” Caoimhe reminded, but it was hard to ignore how nice the bar was. She had half a mind to question how they’d gotten them in VIP at all, let alone on such short notice, but the world was full of people with hidden talents. Instead she wrapped a hand around the stem of the wine glass, eyes finding the pianist across the room. The music had shifted to something jazzy and fun and there were no fumbles to be heard. There was an experience to it Caoimhe wondered over for half a second before letting it go.

“It’s Irish.” She finally pulled her eyes away to find Metzli, fingers curling tighter around the glass. The accent was enough of a giveaway, but Caoimhe knew it could be hard to place. There was an edge to it she’d had spent many years trying to iron out, something a little closer to the old forest path leading up to her family’s too-grand home than the home itself. “If the accent doesn’t give it away, all the letters should.”

But she didn’t want to talk about Kenmare, or where her name came from, or how she could practically see her mother’s patient, knowing grin. “You know, I’ve been here for a couple of months now, and hadn’t even considered trying to get in here, yet you’ve managed it in a night.” She wasn’t going to ask them about their origins, but there was a question somewhere in there, regardless. Instead, she twisted the glass between her fingers and grinned, “You sure you’re not wasting it on just drinks?”

Metzli smiled knowingly and teased, “Ah, so you do think I’m charming?” Years of existence had molded them to be confident in their approach with women. With so long to live, striking out wasn’t intimidating. “You know what they say, cash is king,” They began, sipping on their wine and leaning back in their chair. “I don’t normally bribe, but when I came across someone who actually knew who Pärt was, I had to jump at the opportunity.” The answer was blunt and honest, though they did leave out how they needed a distraction from the pain they were feeling. Stuff like that had a way of killing the mood.

“This isn’t a wasted opportunity by any means. Not when someone of your taste is keeping me company,” Metzli’s smile could be heard in their words, nothing masked but completely unveiled. Recent events had crumbled the structure they had built to hide behind, allowing the true effects of loneliness to set into wounds way past simply festering. “Not to mention, the great selection of wine they have. I do have a sort of affinity to the more luxurious things. Coming from nothing can do that to you, I suppose.” An air of surprise took their face for a moment before falling neutral again. Their ramblings took them off guard and it made them a little uneasy.

Shifting in their seat, they hoped to change the focus. “And you? What are you doing accepting dates from total strangers on the internet?”

“Drinks. Drinks with total strangers.” Caoimhe lifted the drink in question, but her smile belied her amusement. They were confident, she could give them that. Getting to know people beyond first names and passing interests hadn’t been something on Caoimhe’s agenda for some time. Connections didn’t lead to anything good. Connections led to anger, clenched fists outside of coffee shops, reasons for Caoimhe to look in her rearview mirror. She didn’t like connections, because connections had to be broken, they always had to be broken, and doing so never felt good.

But Metzli liked Pärt, and they were charming, and they knew a place where someone could actually play the piano.

“There’s a story there, isn’t there?” She set the drink down and leaned on her elbows, ignoring the soft piano in the background in favor of her company. Ignoring her better instincts to run, like she always did (she’d shown up in the first place, and she didn’t want to think about why). She hadn’t ruined White Crest quite yet, and they liked Pärt. “Came from nothing, and now you’re here. You don’t have to tell, but color me curious.”

Metzli scoffed, playfully and a little dramatically. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not afraid to call this what it is. A date. I’ll say it for the both of us.” They said into their glass, smiling. Caoimhe wasn’t one to get too close to people. That’s what Metzli began to gather. They could relate, uncomfortably so. They had spent their vampiric life alone, not bothering to let anyone behind the several barriers they had built between them and would-be connections. Some could be read like novels, while others like short stories. And nine times out of ten, Metzli chose to be read like the latter. But tonight was possibly the tenth shot and after this Caoimhe may never see them again. So really, what did they have to lose?

“Actually, yes. There is.” Metzli pulled out a small, worn out sketchbook from their pocket, and retrieved the pencil inside of it. Holding it up in a way so that Caoimhe couldn’t see the pages, they began. “I’ll give you the condensed version, and if you want to hear more, you can ask questions.” The pencil glided over the page, a practiced hand moving quickly. “I was born and raised in Jalisco, Mexico. To two parents who fell madly in love and accidentally had me. We were dirt poor, but my parents seemed to make it work for them. Began working when I was about eight years old or so. And by the time I was in my twenties, I had mastered carpentry and was a pretty good ranch hand.” They smiled, looking back and forth from the page and Caoimhe.

“Unfortunately, parents weren’t the kindest, so I took to sketching in the woods on my lowest days. And on one special day, I found myself returning home to find my parents dead.” Brows creased together, but the pencil never stopped moving. “After that, I traveled and traveled until I managed to find myself here, owning my own art gallery, having an actual roof over my head with a cat, and arranging dates with beautiful women that have taste.” With the final detail made, Metzli turned the sketchbook to reveal a portrait of Caoimhe, of a moment of her now frozen in time on paper. “What do you think?”

Shit.

It was so unfortunate the ones to whom Caoimhe found herself most drawn had stories. Her life would be half as complicated, if she wasn’t so damn fascinated. They wrapped themselves in pencil lines or oils or paints, or notes drawn on staff paper. They smiled around songs sung like stories from ages ago, or danced to something they made up on the spot. They had feelings and hopes and dreams. They held a history, some not unlike her own. Their lives had meaning, full of so much creativity, futures stretched endlessly before them where they could choose to pick themselves up or let themselves fail or do both, because no one had sought to come along and take that future from them.

Caoimhe always sought to take it from them.

She watched Metzli with their notebook, their hands hidden behind the cover, but she could imagine the way they moved. She could muse over whether each line meant something, or if it was something that came so naturally to them they didn’t have to think about it. They had an art gallery, and she wondered at how good it was, how much better it could be, if she just–

Metzli was one of those with a story, a past they’d picked themselves up from. Caoimhe listened as she tried not to think too hard about whatever they were sketching. She tried to imagine them, in the woods with a sketchbook, turning an escape into a future. It was admirable. Humans were always so damn admirable. And Caoimhe liked to think she picked her battles well, but the truth was she didn’t pick them at all. She ran, or she gave in.

“That’s beautiful.” It was. Caoimhe hadn’t realized she’d been looking, sitting still and focused long enough for Metzli to capture the moment. And they’d captured it perfectly, somehow, lines confident despite laying their history out on the table for Caoimhe to do with what she wished. “It’s incredible how people can take things that hurt and make something beautiful out of them, despite everything. I’m glad you were able to get something beautiful out of all of it.” She moved closer, tracing a bit around the eyes. This time, she gave in. “How do you do this, the shading?”

The way Caoimhe watched and even seemed to fawn over the sketch brought a smile to Metzli’s face that reached their eyes. White Crest was full of people they were willing to discuss the hardest of memories, even if they were being extremely vague about some pretty crucial details. “Ah, the shading there has to be delicate. You see,” Their hand moved to graze Caoimhe’s cheek softly before pointing back at the drawing. “The shading there is light, so there can’t be as many crosshatches, while here,” This time they pointed at her neck and jawline. “Here, the crosshatches are more in number and closer together because of the definition and starkness of the shadow.” Discussing art was very much Metzli’s element, and teaching it had become second nature due to the classes they held at the gallery.

Caoimhe was a lover of the arts in general, and not just music. It enraptured them, beckoned them toward her to delve into her other interests in the arts. Maybe experience them with her and discover new works of art together. As friends or otherwise. “It’s not that beautiful though. The story—Not the sketch. The sketch is only a fraction as beautiful as the subject. I’m referring to the story. Had to do some dastardly things to get here. But what about you?” Metzli gestured to Caoimhe and then tore the sketch out of their sketchpad to hand over to her. “Do you have an interesting story you can indulge me with?”

Caoimhe knew what touch could do. She spent her life measuring it, calculating who and where and when. Whether it was something casual, or something purposeful. Metzli reached out and Caoimhe reached up, putting her hand between her cheek and theirs, and the brush was light but it meant something. Because they were talking about where to etch and when, about a life spent using art as a way to escape or express themselves or simply be happy, and Caoimhe wanted it. She wanted to know more, to help, to stop the gnawing in her stomach that–

That didn’t stop. It was like a jolt. She’d been expecting another stair and there wasn’t one. Her hand dropped in a movement that was almost too quick to be casual and she pulled in a breath and there was so much to process, she didn’t know where to start. Metzli was more than what they seemed, and Caoimhe let something like disappointment ease into something that felt a little more like excitement. They loved art, and she could watch them love art.

Caoimhe accepted the sketch and swallowed thickly, despite all the questions vying for attention on the tip of her tongue (who were they, what were they), despite the way her stomach still clenched but her lips ticked up in something close to a smile. Despite the fear they’d know. “My story isn’t quite so interesting.”

Eyes moved up and down, analyzing Caoimhe. She had been quick to protect her personal space, and even quicker to pretend like she hadn’t behaved anxiously. Something was at the tip of her tongue. A question, one of many. “You’ve got questions, don’t you?” Metzli asked, smiling and taking the bottle from the table to pour more in each glass. She must’ve felt it, their cold skin. Maybe that was it. Or maybe she didn’t like the attention on her. Or she quite possibly was intrigued by the vampire before her. Only, she didn’t know they were a monster.

TW PARENTAL DEATH “That just makes me think it is interesting.” Metzli sipped on their wine and hummed thoughtfully. Fingers tapped on the table, organizing words into sentences that were coherent and strategic. “But if this is your way of keeping the attention off of you, I’m game. I mean, no one knows more about me, than me. So ask away.” Taking one more drink, they raised a finger, hoping to get another moment. “I will say though, you may just want to hug me by the end of it. It’s quite sad. I mean, not only were my parents murdered, but my whole…town was. There were very few survivors. War can be tough. Especially for the impoverished.” A look akin to despair, a longing painted onto their face, but it was quickly washed away with wine.

“But, if you’re gonna ask me more questions, you have to tell me at least three facts about you. How does that sound?”

Caoimhe hummed, brow furrowing. For the first time since she’d pushed her way through the door, she couldn’t hear the piano. It was Metzli, and a story, and all the questions that still rattled around in her head. They had already volunteered so much (what war, are you okay, why can’t I– ), and despite their offer to ask as many questions as she would like, Caoimhe hesitated. She knew what it felt like to lay herself bare. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t something one did simply because.

“Only if it’s a hug you want.” She spun her glass on the table idly, picking through her words before she let them out. They’d been very upfront about their cynicism, and while Caoimhe had felt she’d understood some measure of it before, it was nothing compared to understanding the reasoning behind it. It was years too late to apologize for things that had happened long before they met; if it were her, she wouldn’t want pity. She wondered how much emotion Metzli kept hidden behind wine and the thick veneer of charm they’d had in place since she’d slid into the booth next to them. She wondered if they were waiting for the next war. “You don’t owe me your story, but...I’m here if you want to tell it.

“You don’t even have to volunteer it in exchange for mine. My mother is still in Ireland, but I haven’t seen her in years. I’m a runaway who never stopped running.” One, two, and “My family could provide for me anything I needed, they were hardly anything tragic, I just...had a difference in opinion.”

“Are you saying you want to hug me? How cute.” They teased through the longing they felt. Letting this mask, sewn perfectly together and with only a few cracks, slip on. “If I’m being honest though, I don’t know how I’d react. I’ve only ever gotten a handful of hugs. They’re nice. Maybe I’ll be a good hugger someday.” A breathy laugh tickled their lips and the smile continued to brighten toward Caoimhe. Being physical was easy, but the intimacy of a hug peppered their thoughts with unease. Sex was simple. Primal. But hugging was an animal that they had never really had an intention of tackling.

A wry smile pulled at Metzli’s lips, listening intently and doing their best to mock sympathy. Even without a soul, they knew what conversations like these meant, and how to behave through them. They wore many masks, and all they had to do was pick the one that fit the scenario best. “I know a thing or two about running away,” Their finger traced along the rim as each word in their head was selected carefully. “And I know a lot about differences in opinion. That’s why I’m here. So far away from…home.” The word was bitter from a lifetime of pain felt. From miles upon miles ran in order to flee, to find a new life with a new meaning. “That’s why I’ve built my gallery and decided to make a name for myself. Metzli Bernal: Art Curator, not Metzli Bernal: uh—well, actually just, Nothing.”

Lips replaced the finger that played at the rim of the glass, taking a steady drink. The warmth of the incoming buzz helped. Metzli relaxed further into their seat and locked eyes with Caoimhe, “I assume you have more questions? You looked both curious and concerned. What was that about? Never met an artist with such a fun backstory?”

“I’m not. But you know what they say about practice.” Caoimhe teased, working her way around telling them she likely wasn’t the person with whom they should practice. Besides, it was a useless saying. No amount of practice had ever left Caoimhe with any less strings, and she’d been trying since a boy with a French horn had decided she was everything before she’d reached the age of twenty. But Metzli looked so bright for a moment. They looked like the concept wasn’t unwelcome, and Caoimhe swallowed down whatever else she was going to say about it. If the brief touch of their hands was anything to go off of, it wasn’t as though she was going to have anything to worry about, anyway.

“Strangers in a bar we may be, but I can already say you’re not nothing, Metzli Bernal.” She was surprised to find she meant it. There were some people she met for a moment, bar bathrooms and alleys and music rooms long after everyone had gone home for the night. Encounters for her to brush off, or spend the rest of her life trying to escape. There were some people who stuck, but ultimately found themselves as shapes in her rearview mirror. Bridges burned, and Caoimhe made a point not to get to know anyone who lay on the other side well enough to get burned along with them. She didn’t know Metzli, and she wasn’t within any kind of blast range, but she knew they’d be a shape she’d remember.

“You know, there’s another saying, something like art is suffering.” Rather than linger on all the things she’d left in her rearview mirror, or how much she always cared, even when she knew she shouldn’t, Caoimhe grinned and leaned back in her chair, eyes bright. “I met a guitarist once who told me she could only write when her heart was broken. Pretty sure she spent half her life trying to find someone to break it for her. Her ballads were to die for, though. Never been a huge fan of country, but she had me sold. Have you ever considered spurs?”

“That only perfect practice makes perfect.” Metzli responded with a grin as lips met their glass. Piano notes danced in the air, providing a lovely ambience that allured them further towards Caoimhe. “Hugs are more of a third date kind of thing, and you were the one who said this wasn’t a date, so…” A suppressed chuckle broke through and they propped themselves on their elbows to turn their body in their seat. The way her presence met theirs with both subtly and boldness was as refreshing as lemonade on a hot summer’s day. Caoimhe had depth as vast as the ocean and Metzli’s curiosity urged them to swim deeper.

And then she uttered words that struck them harder than anticipated. Not nothing. Metzli bit their lip. Harsh teeth dug into mauve lips, deepening the color. The confidence washed away and let vulnerability show through in the form of softening eyes and creased brows. Blinking quickly, they mustered together as much composure as they could and cleared their throat. “Apologies. I think something got stuck in my throat.”

It was with sheer dumb luck that Caoimhe said something that they could cling to. A new subject, a new distraction. “Actually, I used to use spurs. I was a ranch hand for…for my relatives.” Metzli paused, letting the wave of despair pass through their chest before continuing. “Was pretty good at it too. I especially took care of a horse named Mariposa. Means butterfly in Spanish.”

“Hm, I did say that.” Caoimhe hummed around a smile, spinning her glass slowly against the table top. Her hands were always carefully towards the bottom of the stem. For as much as she’d been playing with it, she’d yet to drink any. It wasn’t a date. If she wouldn’t actually drink the wine, if she never said it, it wouldn’t matter that Metzli had offered up so much of their story to her; their earlier insistence upon it wouldn’t mean a thing. She still meant it, but she wondered how they felt. She wondered how it would feel to say it again.

She wondered how it would feel to lie. To do it so easily, so casually, without it catching in her throat and her stomach twisting in on itself. Caoimhe had always been good at twisting half-truths until someone believed a lie she hadn’t told, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as Metzli’s eyes softening, the way they cleared their throat and moved on like Caoimhe hadn’t actually hit on something. She pursed her lips and absorbed their diversion without comment. It was a lie, she wondered about it, but wondering over lies wasn’t for her.

They’d already given her enough truths.

“A ranch hand? An artist, an entrepreneur. Is there anything you haven’t done?”

Caoimhe did well to take whatever was said and turn it around. No words were needed when she did so. Her knack for navigating a conversation was enough. Choosing the right moments to speak, choosing the correct things to respond to. She’d been at this a lot longer than Metzli could have anticipated. It made them worry a little. Worry that they had bit off way more than they could chew by going out with a woman who obviously knew a thing or two about dancing around a subject. But there definitely was no going back now. If they were going to say the truth, they were going to use it to their advantage.

“Live.” A true, and brutally honest answer. Metzli had yet to truly live, and they thought it best to not sugarcoat anything. After all, it seemed to be the one thing that Caoimhe couldn’t fully navigate around. It was like her kryptonite. And the question on the tip of her tongue was something she was holding back. Like she was keeping a secret. A secret similar to the one they kept. A secret of feeding on blood and living forever.

“I have a feeling you relate. But you’re exceptionally good at keeping that side of you undisclosed. Which is fair. That information is reserved for loved ones to hear. But loved ones are dangerous. So better yet, it’s reserved for late nights on your own. For a little punishment when you think you’ve reached too far out.” A pause for a sip and they locked eyes with Caoimhe, smiling softly. “And right now, even just entertaining this date, you’ve reached too far.”

The piano seemed to grow distant, straying deeper into the background as their focus hardened. “I’ve lived a very long time, Caoimhe. I know you’ve got a story, and you don’t have to tell it. But can you do me the courtesy of giving me the biggest question you have? It’s at the top of your tongue.” She felt something different about them, that they were almost sure of. If it was the question they were anticipating, that could only mean one thing: she was otherworldly too.

Caoimhe knew there was more to them. They were stories and a life lived and so, so much more. She’d known the moment her hand had brushed theirs and she didn’t even have to try to practice restraint. A moment of weakness had turned into a knowing Caoimhe wasn’t sure what to do with, yet. She was still toying with letting the knowledge go when they shifted the tone.

The chatter around them fell away to nothing. Her fingers tightened against the stem of the glass until she had to consciously tell herself to let go. It was as though they flipped in a moment, the casual request for a quid pro quo abandoned in favor of a demand, and Caoimhe had never been good at evading direct. Not when her game had been discovered, and the questions posed left little room for movement. Metzli was leaving her very little room for movement.

It made it marginally better that it wasn’t about her. Concern for themselves, Caoimhe could understand. They’d figured out she knew something, somehow, and there was an inherent danger in not knowing exactly what it was Caoimhe thought she knew. They didn’t live in a world forgiving of other, whatever that perceived other might be. “My loved ones are few and far away, and they know what they think my story should be. My punishment is tied to me like strings I already have pulled as far and as taught as I can get them.” She leaned forward, brave even as she considered she shouldn’t be. “And I believe you, that you’ve lived a long life. I’m curious as to how, and for how long. But that was your story, to tell as you wanted.”

Metzli couldn’t help the smile that curved their lips. Their new approach had given them better results than they could have imagined. Caoimhe hid her secrets well. Years upon years of experience taught her well. But Metzli’s curiosity, mixed with their ability to shift conversations, was going to make her say something. She had already said more than she would have obviously liked. Body language be damned, she was nervous. And for once, Metzli wasn’t causing anxiety out of imminent danger, but of pursuit of knowledge and connection.

“I’m much more interested in what your story actually is. Considering you know something about me that everyone overlooks or can’t see,” As they spoke, their hand, a little absentmindedly, slid towards Caoimhe's hand on the table. A part of them craved that touch, to feel that solid connection of someone similar to them in the evasion and artistic regard. But they stopped themselves and let out a shuddered and unnecessary breath. Instead of reaching out fully, they opened their palm towards her, giving her the option.

“Of course, you don’t have to tell me. But…I’ve lived long past a century thanks to that little war that eradicated my people. Thanks to teeth and blood.” Metzli averted their gaze from Caoimhe as they spoke, not only wanting to cover their despair, but to wait for her reaction. “Take that as you wish.”

Thanks to teeth and blood.

It was all the answer Caoimhe needed. She wasn’t surprised, if anything she wondered at their bravery, admitting it in so many words while in a fairly crowded bar. But their booth afforded them a fair amount of privacy, and Metzli didn’t seem like the type to be shy. Their confidence spoke more to their possible centuries of living than anything else had. No, Caoimhe wasn’t shocked.

“Okay.” She absorbed the information with a small nod and a half-smile. Her mother was beyond beautiful by all standards, simply by nature of who and what they were, but Caoimhe knew where to look for the signs of aging. She knew what tired looked like, how centuries of experience could be belied in the tone of her voice. Metzli had been through wars, had been forged in blood, and Caoimhe wondered at long lives and the cost of them. Perhaps they were expecting her to be scared, but Caoimhe found she was only curious, and sad just around the edges. “I’m sorry, for all the life you haven’t been able to live.”

They held out their hand, an obvious invitation, and Caoimhe considered it a moment. There was something to be said for connection. She spoke of her strings like punishment, but she hadn’t said for what, and how. She didn’t talk about what it felt like to stare adoration in the eyes and know none of it was real, not really. They shambled along the roads behind her like marionettes to her puppet master, and not a single one actually wanted to be with her. They wanted their art, they wanted that feeling of absolute inspiration. They were blind to what it cost because she had made them blind to it, and it was that knowledge which each string tugged raw.

Metzli couldn’t be strung up. They couldn’t become another ghost of her past, pressing their faces against her windows and begging for entry. Caoimhe reached out, always so aware of touch and what it could mean, and let the tips of her fingers play across their palm. And nothing. Nothing at all. She rejoiced for the parts of her that were relieved, and wondered at the parts that were just hungry. “You’re a great artist, Metzli. I meant it, when I said you weren’t nothing. You can trust that.” A beat, “I’m a really bad liar.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got plenty of life to live now.” Metzli had spent so long denying themselves connection, while Caoimhe avoided them like a plague. And in a way, the connections probably were just as bad as a virus. Because that virus was her own, and she could do nothing to stop it. Of course, they didn’t know exactly why, but they could see the effects it had on her as a whole. Her personality though, was untouched. It was still there despite all of the barriers it took to get to it. Caoimhe was kind, honest, and even a little playful. She was an artist with a past, just like everyone else.

When her fingers touched their palm, Metzli jumped a little and moved their gaze back to their companion. Eyes glistened with the threat of tears from the topic. The effect of the emotions they were feeling a lot more often. And then Caoihme admitted they could trust what she said. That she was a really bad liar. “Fae?” They asked, already knowing their first answer was correct. “That’s why you didn’t want to touch. I understand now. But you don’t have to worry. You have no effect on me in that regard.” A small smile curved onto their lips and that same hand she had touched, moved towards her cheek. Another attempt, but this time, it was a tender approach. Their thumb caressed her cheek and let it linger for a moment. “That must bring some relief, hm? No te preocupes. Um, don’t worry.” They translated, moving their hand back to their glass.

“Does this mean it’s a date now?” Charm returned to Metzli’s voice and they let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll keep trying until you tell me to stop. Can’t help wanting to be around someone with an artistic mind.”

“Have some experience with fae, do you?” It wasn’t an answer, but it was as close to one as she was willing to get. There would be time for talk some other time, when they weren’t huddled into a quiet booth in an otherwise crowded bar. Caoimhe thought of art galleries, and spending time with someone who truly enjoyed it, for no other reason than their own genuine love of art. Someone inspired by their own rites, and not because Caoimhe pulled some string inside of them. She thought about Metzli, and how they’d probably only scratched the surface of their own story. Not many wars took centuries; they both had so many blank spaces to fill. They both had so much time to fill them.

Then Metzli touched her cheek, and Caoimhe could see how it would all play out. She’d call it a date, and there would be the expectation of another. They’d spend a late night in an art gallery, or perhaps Caoimhe would take them to Dell’s, she hadn’t been yet. They’d have fun, they’d spill their stories to each other one piece at a time, and the strings would be different this time. They’d be less like anchors and more like balloons, and Caoimhe would think them beautiful (she thought all of them were beautiful). And then she’d leave. And Metzli would look like empty art galleries and quiet bars and another ghost, but this one with frayed strings where they were effectively cut.

But then, that would be true whether she called it a date or not.

“Hm, it’s not just drinks.” It wasn’t, that much was true. “Is there an in between? A ‘this was a lot more than I’d bargained for.’ Or a ‘I’d like to see your gallery, but I’m not going to say second date?’”

“Yeah, I do.” Metzli answered, a little passively. They nodded and finished the rest of their glass before making eye contact with Caoimhe once again. “How about a fun-friend meeting?” Metzli couldn’t help but chuckle and raised their hand once more to her cheek and laid out all the honesty they could. “I don’t get serious about people. It’s safer that way, you know? But that’s not to say I wouldn’t enjoy a little fun with an artistic approach.” Their smile reached their words and soft eyes met with Caoimhe’s.

“We don’t have to call it a date. We don’t have to be anything. Just two ambitious artists that came together and found each other attractive. I’ll show you my gallery and you can show me your music. And in between, we can find some fun to have.” Metzli leaned forward, slowly and carefully. The night would be fun, the night would consist of new experiences. All of them with Caoimhe with them. And with a kiss to Caoimhe’s cheek, they begun a new relationship based on mutual interests, and not definite ties.

#paras #para: deathisanartmetzli #para: not nothing #alcohol tw #parental death tw #emotional abuse tw #domestic abuse tw

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victoriareyloficlists · 4 years ago

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15 March 2021 Additions to Reylo Fluff

These fics have been added to the Fluff lists located in the following lists:

Fluff Part 1 Titles A-G

Fluff Part 2 Titles H-M

Fluff Part 3 Titles N-S

Fluff Part 4 Titlez T-Z

My Heart Like a Kick Drum by Zoa (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 8 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In need of a date to his parents destination vow renewal but not interested in a real relationship, Ben Solo turns to an acting service specializing in fake relationships for a temporary girlfriend. But as he gets to know Rey Niima over the course of the vacation, Ben finds himself reconsidering his outlook on love...) More Than a One-Night Stand by Eskayrobot, Poaxath (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey's having a pretty shitty night, to be honest. From the creep at the bar to the...oh, this rescuer of hers is pretty nice. And very attractive. And maybe he smelled really good, too.) lay all your love on me by akosmia (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben doesn't really think much of himself, and Rey is determined to change his mind.) Got a Feeling we Should Just Go Home by slugmutt (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, 13 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Spending the week before Christmas with sullen deputy-CEO Kylo Ren is the last thing on earth Rey wants to do. Going back to his hometown with Christmas-loving Rey in tow is the last thing Kylo wants to do. But with a little help from family, some holiday magic, and a stray blizzard or two, they might start seeing things differently.) Lightning Glass by Weddersins (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Canon CD, Quick Synopsis: Force-users don't like to consume alcohol because it lowers mental shielding. Too bad the Resistance's entire supply of juice fermented. Better not let it go to waste. Meanwhile, Kylo Ren wakes up with Rey booping his nose and giggling. He is Very Confused.) New Beginnings by reylocalligraphy (AO3 2018 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Ben comes home for the first time in five years, it happens to be Thanksgiving dinner. He’s surprised to meet a girl who’s working for his father… an odd girl his parents seem strangely fond of.) The Unintended Consequences of Single-Seater Cockpit Designs by ItsALilah (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Canon CD, Quick Synopsis: After Crait, Rey vowed to never, ever stick her head out for Kylo Ren again. Unfortunately, she's got marching orders from Poe Dameron of all people to save the Resistance's newest ally, who just happens to be Kylo Ren, and of course, those rescue plans predictably go to Hell. Meaning Rey's not just stuck with Kylo Ren, but sharing an uncomfortably confined space with the newly deposed Supreme Leader. A space that was definitely not designed to fit more than one person.) In Full Bloom by deedreamer (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When high school teacher Rey Kanata gets flowers with a cryptic message, she freaks out, thinking she's being hit on by one of her students. On a mission to find out who sent the flowers, she meets Ben Solo -- single dad and owner of the little florist down on Main Street. When the flowers turn out to be a delivery error, Rey knows her job's no longer at risk. But what she doesn't know is that she's about to fall head over heels for the man who keeps sending her flowers day after day because he's a goner for her, too...) Degrees and Galaxies by Pawprinter (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben could think of numerous other things he would rather be doing than spending an afternoon working on a paper. That all changes when he bumps into Rey. Maybe spending the day at the coffee shop isn't the worst way to spend his time.) A Reylo Christmas Carol by Crackedkybercrystal (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: "Before the dawn," Hux intoned, "you will be visited by three spirits. Heed their message Kylo Ren, least you end your days like me." It was only now that Kylo perceived his old partner to be bound with a great chain around his waist, weighed down by heavy blocks.) Of Penmanship and Discourse by INTPSlytherin_reylove97 (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, 35 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Rey Kenobi's professor and advisor, Luke Skywalker, refuses to give constructive criticism or facilitate workshops for his students, she decides to seek help else where. Ben Solo (or if you read his published work, Kylo Ren) is on the brink of insanity. The literary magazine he is editor for is racing off in a new direction-- and is leaving him questioning both its morals and his love for writing. To find his intellectual and creative needs met, he decides to turn to the internet. A PenPals AU no one asked for.) The Set-up by CajunSpice714 (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo has aways been socially awkward, but when he sets his sights on his brother Poe's fiance Finn's bestfriend Rey during an engagment party Poe decided that he and Finn need to divise a plan to set the two of them up if not for the sake of his and Finn's future wedding then for the sake of their own sanity.) From R to Kylo by SpaceWaffleHouseTM (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben and Rey are archaeologists who absolutely cannot stand each other. They also happen to be pen pals, but they don't know who the other is, until one night they get trapped together at a creepy excavation site, and suddenly their hatred begins to unravel.) How You Turn My World, You Precious Thing by BensLostTookaCat (VillainTheBlank) (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: He's the hotshot asshole who leads The First Order, the legal arm of The Resistance. She's the new company liaison who has been assigned to The First Order to keep them accountable.The annual Resistance Masquerade Ball is about to turn Kylo and Rey's worlds upside down.) If You Change Your Mind (I'm the First in Line) by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 6 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben hates watching his best friend/roommate Rey be unlucky in love. Finally, he decides to do something about it.) Take a Chance on Me by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 6 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey hates watching her best friend/roommate Ben go on date after date with no success. Eventually, she decides to do something about it. Or, 5 bad dates + 1 good one.) Haunted Corn Maze by OptimisticBeth (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey bonds with her work buddy, Ben.) Zombie Run by OptimisticBeth (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: During a charity run, Rey is relentlessly pursued by a zombie.) Eating for Two by Hellyjellybean (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is pregnant and smells her neighbour Ben's cooking. She goes round to ask if he would be willing to share. But maybe Ben would like to share more than his cooking with Rey.) Go And Catch A Falling Star Chapter 56 by Ayearandaday (AO3 2021 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Hungry overworked Ben accidentally ends up in McDonalds. Guess what happens next?) weddings and wingwomen by bigfootsflannel (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: After hiring Ben Solo as her wedding photographer, Rose discovers her true calling as part-time matchmaker.) when the stars collide by roguewn (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rose and Rey are debating the latest Space Skirmish movie. Rose insists a kiss was romantic and Rey jokes that it was a thank-you-for-saving-me kiss. Rose dares her to kiss the next guy who holds the door open for her.) Fall Into the Dark Side by CaliforniaQueen (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is a lonely comic shop owner. Ben is the equally lonely comic book writer Rey has been crushing on for years.) Something About November Chapter 11 by SpaceWaffleHouseTM (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is leaving First Order Enterprises for her dream job at Resistance Inc. On her last day, she gets a cake and a card with farewell messages from her department-there's an anonymous message among them, confessing to a secret crush.) Something Missing by Hellyjellybean (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: An angst-free AU where Ben takes his kid to work and loses track of him only to find him eating contraband candy with Rey from IT.) A Doggy Intervention by corpse_wife (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Interventions come in many different forms. Whether it's time, a place or occasionally, people, it's up to the universe to decide when two soulmates meet. In Ben Solo's case, the universe had a cruel sense of humor. For his intervention comes in the form of a German Shepard and his graceless brunette owner. Two things happened in the short span of a minute: 1.) Ben got tackled to the ground 2.) The dog had just swallowed his wedding rings) baby fever by cursebreakker (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey’s boss kylo basically has a heart of stone, he literally has a reputation in the offices as 'Satan’s right hand'. That is until Rey’s two year old daughter toddles up to him outside of work one day and he just completely melts.) My Roommate's a Virgin Vampire by jeeno2 (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 8 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Niima answers an online ad from someone looking for a new roommate. Turns out he's a very weird, incredibly hot vampire with extremely outdated views on sex.) Toy Story XXX: The Legend of the Fainting Goat by andabatae (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has been thirsting after her next door neighbor, Ben Solo, for months. In a fit of sexual frustration, she purchases a sex toy with rave reviews—never expecting that when she uses it, Ben will mistake her screams of pleasure for cries of distress and break down her door to save her...) Wild Child by tmwillson3 (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Regency AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey spends her first Season in Bath with her best friend, Rose Tico. When Rose begins a hate-at-first-sight relationship with Sir Armitage Hux, Rey thinks that nothing more exciting could happen.That's when Sir Hux's friend, the Earl of Alderaan, and his dogs come crashing into Rey. Rey has never liked peers, but when she bonds with him on a rainy day, everything changes.) Dump Your Date for Prom by TypeSomeSenseToMe (AO3 2021 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey asks Ben Solo to the Prom.) you're my boo by murakamism (AO3 2018 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey's neighbor Ben Solo is the only one who ever shows Halloween spirit around here. When she discovers he's moving out, she's only hurt because that means she won't have anymore competition... right? So she sets out on a plan to make him stay.) permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) by theresonatinglight (AO3 2021 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.) Bespoke by L_awlietxoxx (AO3 2018 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo is miserable, stumbling through his life in London without seeing much of anything. Then Christmas sneaks up on him, as does a little shop and a woman who makes custom ornaments to meet the needs of any heart. Suddenly, Ben sees everything.) Game Night by Melusine11 (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey goes to live with Finn to help her get on her own feet. She has an immediate connection with his roommate, Ben Solo. It all comes to a head during a rather intense game night.)

#reylo #reylo fanfic

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Yamata-No-Orochi: (Part 4) Erii

ITT: The Mic Drop Heard Round the World.

The sun woke you. Bright light shone through the windows, forming a halo around the curtains and projecting the shape of raindrops from the window onto the carpet. Mingfei had left shortly before you fell asleep of exhaustion and grief.

You’d fought hard and rebelled against the world, but this last rebellion had taken you too far. Z raised, saved, and safeguarded you. But you refused to play his love game, and that was all it took to discard you. Caesar had been at your side, encouraging you to live all this time. But now that the clouds had gathered, and the darkness of the world surrounded you, he realized that, like Chance, life was not in the cards for you. And Chu Zihang? Well, he always was a sword at your throat.

Once again the world was laughing, mocking you with its silent game of keep away. Love? Syke! Happiness? Syke! Companionship? Syke!

You hated this world. Mingfei went to Erii’s room with the Desert Eagle. What was stopping you from planting your mind in the ground and tilting Tokyo into a rift in the Earth, like it was the undersea Takamagahara? To watch its towers topple, and its buildings burn would be a fitting end to a Godzilla movie.

The hotel phone rang, insanely loud. You reached over and picked it up. “Pizza Hut,” you mumble.

Lu Mingfei stammered for a moment. Then he laughed. “Hey. You, me, Erii road trip. Right now. I left some clothes for you.”

His voice over the phone, it sounded like Z’s. You are silent, mind completely inert, spirit aching. “Sure whatever.” You hang up.

You shower and pull a comb through your hair three times, leaving it to fall over your shoulders. You don't bother with jewelry or make up. He left you a pair of skin tight jeans and a shirt that said Wild Thing across the front. White ankle socks and blue low rise canvas sneakers go over your feet.

The phone rings again. Mingfei sounded breathless. “Come now! We have to go!”

You hang up the phone and dash outside. Mingfei is waiting for you in a cherry red porsche. Erii waves with bright enthusiasm from the passenger side as he gets out and folds the seat down so you can get in the back. “Erii this is my friend, MC, She’s sick like you.”

You startle. Mingfei just went out and said it. You hold out your hand and she takes it, examining your fingers with her dark red eyes. You were lighter skinned, but this girl was near transparent. She scribbled on a notepad. “Nice to meet you. You are very pretty.”

“Guys buckle up!”

Your seatbelt had just clicked when Mingfei down shifted and floored it. The engine let out a mighty growl and the car took off like a rocket down the street. But Mingfei was relaxed, with an impish, ‘catch me if you can’ sort of look. Something in your chest stirred awake.

Erii held up her notebook. “Sakura is the best, right?”

Her smile was so sly, not something you expected to see. “Oh yeah, he's awesome!”

Her nod was sassy, like, Damn Straight.

You look at him again. He was smiling like he was angry. He was acting recklessly. The buildings were a blur outside the windows. The car rumbled like a beast underneath you as the accelerator didn't let up. You weave through traffic like lightning and soon the police are tailing you with flashing lights.

If you thought you were going fast before you were mistaken. The car dug deeper, and it felt like you floated over the road. The police car faded into the distance, unable to keep up.

He pulls into a service station and pays the attendant way too much cash. “Where are we going?” You ask.

“It's a surprise!”

“Does MC like gum?” Erii held out a piece and you helped yourself.

You lean forward. Erii was covered head to toe in clothing, despite the good weather.

“MC said that Erii is not stupid, that Erii is smart. MC was right, you knew a lot about yourself. But MC was sad so I wanted to take her too.” Lu Mingfei was saying. “Because she cares for Erii and understands her.”

Erii looks at you for a moment. Then she wrote in her notepad, “Cheer up. Sakura is very lucky. Thank you for caring about me.”

Her expression was so earnest and happy. Did she really understand herself? You hold out your hands for the notebook and pen. You write, “I'm too sick so my friends are scared of me.”

She takes one look at the notepad and her eyes widen. She snatches it back and writes, “Erii is not scared, Erii will be your friend.”

“Please be my friend.” You say softly.

Erii reaches out and seizes your arm. Her face is serious and she nods. When you stop at the supermarket, she drags you along, purchasing snacks and a gigantic stuffed teddy bear. Erii was not interested in herself. She wanted to cheer you up! She understood beyond words the lifelong loneliness, the constant rejection, and growing up in a world that feared you. She forcefully shoves the teddy bear into your hands. And pulls you along. It's so big you can't see around it.

Her image blurs with that of Renata. If Renata had a chance to grow up, she would be this bold.

The bear is so tall it folds against the low ceiling of the porsche. You squeeze in next to it.

“MC is from Siberia. Where she is from, the sun doesn't set in Summer. And in Winter, it doesn't rise and lights dance in the sky.” Mingfei says as you take off again.

Erii swivels in a full body, “What?!” expression and you laugh. “It is true. It's exactly like that.”

“That is AWESOME!” She turns the notepad to you and then writes, “I want to visit your home!”

You recall your promise to Caesar to go dog sledding and feel a pang of regret. But your mind has already replaced Caesar on the dogsled and put Erii there. “Let’s go dogsledding!”

She looks confused.

“Here give me your notebook.” You draw a sketch of a dog sled pulled by a team of panting dogs.

If Erii’s eyes got any bigger they would fill her face. She wrote, “IS THERE SANTA IS HE THERE”

“I… no Santas not there, but we can pretend to be Santa.”

“MC is awesome!”

Before dusk, Lu Mingfei and you two ladies arrived in the town at the southwest end of Shikoku, which is more than four hundred kilometers from Tokyo. The Porsche sports car ran for a full four hours. The whole time Erii peppered you with questions about life in Siberia while Mingfei drove. She had the impression of a magical frostland full of sky and sea. Her sparkling impression was free of brutal reality. For four hours you spoke only of the beauty and wonder of the north. Erii’s notebook is filled with sketches of white quail, snow geese, cute arctic foxes, bears, seals, and whales.

The open-air parking lot was empty. Lu Mingfei found a parking space to park the car, and opened the door to hear the tide. You could not see the sea. A large hill stood between you and the ocean. The waves sounded like reverberating between the sky and the earth.

"The sea?" Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei, with excitement in her eyes.

Lu Mingfei nodded his head as an answer.

Ah the ocean… maybe four hours ago you might have been upset to meet up with the water. Now you just laugh.

Erii looks at you curiously.

“Did you know I got to ride dolphins?”

Erii practically staggers.

“If you're lost in the ocean, sometimes dolphins will rescue you.” You hook her arm in yours. “They're big and strong and won't let you drown.”

“MC knows so much.”

“Erii knows a lot about Erii’s world. I know a lot about mine.”

Erii nods and smiles.

Lu Mingfei pulled out the compass, opened the long-prepared map, and took you to the town not far away. The sign in front of the town reads Umezuji-cho. At this time of the year, the streets of Tokyo must be bustling with people, but in this small seaside town, there are no people on the streets, only a group of elementary school students in school uniforms passing by.

Mingfei seemed to be in a rush, but Erii dallied with you, asking questions and marveling at the tofu shop, or the batik store. More than once, Mingfei had to come back and usher you forward. He clearly had some sort of plan in mind.

You find out that he hurried was so you could catch the last mountain tram, which was built next to the town's shrine and had a 45-degree angle track that made a staccato sound as you climbed.

On both sides of the track there are dense trees. These trees cover the track like thick clouds, and it is as if you are walking through a tunnel of ever-changing colors, a tunnel made purely of foliage and flowers.

Both you and Erii are stunned with wonder. You did not have such dense forests like this growing up. The air is full of birdsong and frogs and early season cicadas. You feel someone take your hand. Erii points to your face. A bright tear shone there like a pearl. You didn't know you had shed it.

"Sakura is not Japanese, right? How do you know such a beautiful place?" Erii wrote in her little notebook.

"I saw a drama made in Japan. This is a very famous scene from that drama. I saw that drama a long time ago."

"What was the name of that TV series?"

"Tokyo Love Story." Lu Mingfei wrote one stroke at a time.

"I liked that Japanese drama so much that I searched the Internet for all kinds of information about Ehime Prefecture, and finally learned that the ending scene was filmed in Umezuji Town, and that the school and the separate stations in the drama were real. I had always dreamed of traveling to Umetsuji-cho and had done a lot of homework.”

You and Mingfei did not really know each other. You did not think he was this level of a romantic so you didn’t understand why Caesar would want to pair you two. Now it made a lot more sense.

Lu Mingfei took out a handkerchief and blindfolded Erii: "You will see a beautiful view when you untie the handkerchief later."

When he handed one to you, your jaw drops. “I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just ties your eyes. You feel his hand close around yours. You can’t see Erii’s expression. “Erii, I’m so excited. This is fantastic!”

You’re smiling, you can’t stop. The memories of the events of the days before roared like angry hordes of monsters in your mind, but Mingfei and Erii have shut the gates on them. His warm hand in yours, the rhythm of the sun's rays between the trees, the crunch of your footfalls on the trail, the constant sound of birds. It was all so soothing.

You walk the decades old mountain mining path, a road with uneven stone patchwork. At the end of the road is a long closed mine. In order to commemorate the mine that raised the town, the residents of Umezuji Town donated money to build a wooden temple-style building over the entrance and exit of the mine. Each rafter is hung with carp flags for prayers, and various porcelain dolls are placed under the eaves. This is a local custom. If the town's family gave birth to a boy, they would come here to hang a carp flag, and if it is a girl will put a porcelain doll.

“It's exactly the same as the Internet says." Lu Mingfei said.

The tracks of the mine car had long been rusted, and weeds grew among the sleepers. You followed the track to the edge of the cliff, and Lu Mingfei helped you to climb a rock that protruded from the cliff.

He pressed his hands on you and Erii’s shoulders and said, "Now you can take off the blindfold."

You untied your handkerchief.

The sunset blooms full in your vision. The huge sun disc had touched the sea. Ten of millions of tons of seawater slowly swirled beneath your feet. The tide broke into white splashes under the black cliffs. The wind blew endless hectares of forest. The evening woods also look like the sea from a distance, a pale red sea, with thousands of treetops swaying with the wind, forming cascading waves.

Small towns are distributed along the winding coastline, Lu Mingfei names of them one by one -- below the cliff is the town of Umezuji, a little farther away is the town of Yamamae, Tsukishita Castle Town and Matsuron Town, and further is beyond his knowledge.

The town's small school was already empty, and the silent playground was empty.

The Ferris wheel spins slowly but does not carry passengers. The Ferris wheel in Umezuji Town is only a miniature version, but it is magnified in the sunset, its huge shadow cast on the undulating sea of trees.

On the track facing the sea, the yellow slow train rumbled through the small unoccupied station, which was enclosed by white railings with the signs "Umetsuji X" and "Tokyo X”. You wonder how long it had to wait for a nostalgic and romantic fan like Lu Mingfei. Music starts playing and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

Lu Mingfei had pressed play on the theme song of Tokyo Love Story. His phone was the latest and the speaker was good. You couldn't believe it. This nerdy little parrot boy and scared raccoon had somehow managed to comfort you completely. Outside the shadows of Caesar and Chu Zihang, he shined bright. Maybe being on a boat with him would be fun.

Erii held up her notebook. “The world is gentle.”

You look at her, expressionless. She was right. The world in its natural state was quiet and peaceful. You’d fallen asleep in violence and awakened in violence and pain. You didn't get to experience the romantic world like this very much. In your mind, you imagine Renata in her patchwork coat, sitting next to you. In your ears, she whispers.

You open your mouth, “Make a wish!”

Mingfei turns to you in surprise but Erii follows along, pressing her palms together. You pray.

Renata. I am coming soon. Sorry it took so long.

You sat under the roof of the mine. Erii kept writing questions. Lu Mingfei answered one by one. This girl seems to have saved up a belly of questions, and now they all came out. Mostly they referenced Anime and Manga you have never heard of. That was Erii’s world, a world of cartoon fantasy. He confirmed or denied that reality, shaping and creating the world anew as you watched her listen intently. Lu Mingfei had taken to heart your words and was upfront and simple, not lying or trying to say things she wanted to hear. You nod in approval, your eyes serious.

The sun gradually sank below the surface of the sea, the last afterglow scattered on the water. Half of the sun and its reflection form a complete circle.

"So this is what the outside world looks like." Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei to see.

"Yeah, that's what it's like, no Britannia Kingdom and no Celestial Organization… disappointed?" Lu Mingfei asked.

"No, not disappointed, like this kind of world, this kind of world is very gentle." Erii used the word gentle once again. You repeated the word in your mind. Gentle. It echoes there. As if without the constant threat of death and adrenaline, there was just empty space.

"I really like this world." As the sun is about to disappear, Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei. "But the world doesn't like me." Erii went on to write.

You stand up and move to the other side of her. You scoot as close as you can and rest your head on her shoulder. She hugged the huge bear and lowered her eyes like a cat that had done something wrong.

"I'll be a problem for everyone and I've been a problem for Sakura." Erii wrote again.

"I was too willful. So I ran away from home."

"I should have gone back a long time ago but it's still a pleasure."

"It's beautiful here, I should have known I should have come here on the first day. Thank you Sakura, MC, thank you.”

You lower your hand over hers as she’s writing.

"No."

Erii froze for a moment.

"No." Lu Mingfei repeated.

Lu Mingfei cocked his head to look at her with a rare serious look: "Don't think you can know what the world is like by coming out to see it. I'm still confused after living in this world for more than twenty years. You've only run out for a few days and you think you understand?"

His eyes look at you too and you’re just as shaken as Erii. But he is right! You never set foot outside the Port of Black Swan and that was 20 years ago. You saw the whole world through that tiny lens and haughtily walked around like you owned the place. You judged others through that same view as well.

"How big the world is depends on how many people you know, and for every person you know, the world gets a little bigger for you. There are many cities in this world. There are Tokyo, Paris, Cairo, London, Istanbul... but many of them are just names to you, you haven't been there and there are no people there you want to visit, so they don't really belong to your world. There are many, many more people in this world, but you don't know them, and they don't belong in your world. There are also lots of good food and fun and nice things in this world, but the world that really belongs to you is actually very small, just the places you've been and eaten and seen the sunset and the friends who will care if you live or die."

"Whether the world likes you or not only depends on whether your friends like you or not. Everyone has a few really good friends. They like you, therefore, the world likes you."

The world… was not Tokyo, or Cassell or Hydra… The world was Renata, Caesar, Chu Zihang, Lu Mingfei, and now Erii. You turn your head back to Tokyo, unseen in the distance. How could you leave…?

“What is a good friend?" Erii wrote in her little notebook.

"It's the kind of friend that's so crazy about that he'll believe in you no matter what, and he'll be with you no matter what.” Lu Mingfei growled low. "If the world really doesn't like you, then the world is my enemy."

The moment these cold and arrogant words came out of his mouth, you seemed to hear a familiar cold laugh coming from behind you. The demon of the sad world sneering with all its mockery.

Together, you and Mingfei both jerked back, but behind you were only cherry blossoms mixed with fallen leaves swirling in a breeze, and there was no sign of Z. Lu Mingfei stared at you with wide eyes and you stared right back. His mouth opened. “MC. You… heard…?”

"Wanted: a good friend."

He turned back to Erii waiting for him with a small book up.

"I am your good friend, and you will have more good friends in the future." You say.

"But as long as we are your good friends, how can we not like you?" He said softly.

She slowly crawled towards Lu Mingfei like a kitten, vigilantly figuring out his look. Lu Mingfei looks petrified and you cover your mouth with one hand while silently cheering, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

What did he expect? Even your heart was moving and you don’t even like him! Lu Mingfei is sitting here putting Kazama level moves on this girl and now that her arms are around him and her head is on his chest, he looks two seconds away from shitting himself. You ball your fist against your lips and swallow your laughter.

Clouds gathered in the distance and the sun had set, It was time to go. You would have to get up bright and early tomorrow to get on the boat to China. Your heart was relaxed again about Caesar’s decision. After all, he was just doing his best. If you died, you would go to rest. Caesar would be tormented for the rest of his days. He wasn't sending you on the boat to die. He wanted you to live. You still believed the omniscient Z. Leaving Tokyo was a death sentence. But you also believed Caesar had his own parallel script.

It was raining by the time the train came. You stand shoulder to shoulder on the platform. “Call me to wake me up tomorrow.” You say.

Mingfei lowers his head and laughs.

“Oh you’re planning to oversleep? Once again I have to be the mature one.” You roll your eyes.

The train splashes up to the platform and you make sure Erii has her ticket. She sits next to the window and stares outside. Much to your surprise, Mingfei sits you next to her. He gives you a fond smile and passes you a note.

"Dear passengers, this train terminates in Matsuyama City. We are now about to leave Umezuji-cho station. The train is about to close......" A sweet female voice echoed in the carriage.

The doors of the train close.

You open the note in your hand. The words make you squint.

You have to live.

You and Erii gasp at the same time. Mingfei is not on the train. The doors have closed. And he is not on the train!

You leap from your seat and pound on the glass door in front of the smiling Mingfei. “Where am I supposed to go?” You will miss the boat. You won’t go to China.

Your hands slowly slide from the glass. Erii is pressing her notebook urgently against it.

Lu Mingfei tapped on the window, "Someone will pick Erii up when you get to Matsuyama City. MC, find Ruri Kazama.”

"Won't Sakura take me back to Tokyo?" Eriki took the small book and showed it to Lu Mingfei.

"Your family won't like me." Lu Mingfei said.

Erii hugged the furry teddy bear and lowered her head, her long hair like a colored cloak that enveloped both her and the bear.

"Sayonara" said Lu Mingfei.

Erii nodded, finally realizing that this was their parting. The train ride to Tokyo will take several hours, but Lu Mingfei will not accompany her.

Lu Mingfei's face was stern and he didn't say anything more. There was nothing more to say. This was the parting, his carefully designed parting. He NEVER agreed to the boat. He NEVER agreed to kill you. He had carefully pulled the wool over Caesar’s eyes and convinced you that he was going to dump you on the boat. You grinned and shook your head. But the train began to move before you could even think of a comeback.

#Dragon Raja

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years ago

Text

when your love reaches me (iii)

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

word count: 7.5k

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

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

part i, part ii

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

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

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

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

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

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

but there’s more:

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

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

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

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

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

you agree without hesitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it was a gift.”

“oh really? from who?”

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

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

“she gave me these, too.”

“i didn’t know you had a great-aunt.”

“we weren’t close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“holy shit!”

you shut your eyes, wincing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

monica,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do tell!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you okay?” he asks warily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do you want your regular?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

“comin’ right up.”

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

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

“you aunt,” he starts.

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

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

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

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

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

“natural?”

“well, i was going to say easy, but—”

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

“she didn’t say anything about leaving?”

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

“was she happy?”

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

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

“[y/n]?”

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

“fuck,” he breathes. “it is you.”

“i don’t know know what you’re—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“will you really come to my exhibit?”

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

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

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

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

he leaves without another word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what do you think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he winces. “i might’ve.”

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

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

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

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

you can’t argue with that.

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

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

you tap his shoulder. “dr. may?”

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

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

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

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

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

“that’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you wait for him to speak.

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

“yes.”

“you’re the same age?”

“yes.”

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

“neither do i.”

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

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

“i think—i think i need to sit down.”

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

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

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

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

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

“about seven months.”

he snorts. “try forty years.”

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

he shrugs. “i suppose.”

“you’re happy?”

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

“that’s all i want to hear.”

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

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

“he didn’t—not in so many words.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hope he can, too.

~*~*~*

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

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