#that was not a normal reaction to have if you find out two colleagues platonically live together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

landinoandco · 3 years ago

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|Shutter Speed|

Chapter three : A hunger for comfort and affection

{Lando Norris x reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: a hint to mature themes but only of you squint

Word count: 2.5 k

A/n: Here is chapter three of Shutter Speed, like last chapter if you would like to be added in the taglist drop me a message or comment :) enjoy

Previous chapters: Chapter one, Chapter two

“Oh Maisie.” Georgie cried, “It was the most embarrassed I think I’ve been in my entire life.” She took a long sip of her wine as she slouched into the sofa, the tv playing the medal ceremony of the England vs Italy game - Italy taking the victory.

Maisie wrapped her arm around Georgie’s shoulders, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” She said softly.

“Not that bad.” Georgie screeched, her wine splashing slightly over Maisie’s legs. Hastily, Georgie tried to wipe it off, Maisie chuckled and pushed her hands away. “What I mean to say is, I’m sure Lando didn’t think anything of it.” Maisie corrected herself, shaking her head at Georgie’s apologetic glance.

“Maisie, I stood there like a fish.” She imitated a fish opening and closing its mouth.

“Take me through what happened again-”

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for McLaren. As it turns out, you and I are about to attend the same meeting.”

Georgie stopped in her tracks, “You mean to say, we are now colleagues.”

Lando’s face dulled and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I suppose we are. Yes.” The pair stood awkwardly, Lando’s hand placed behind his neck looking up at the sky whilst Georgie had found something very interesting on the floor.

“Well I suppose I should-” Lando started as Georgie braved to look up.

“Yes, yeah, wouldn’t want to be late” She forced a chuckle, going to walk forward when they remembered - they were heading in the same direction.

Maisie cringed as her best friend recounted the story. “So what happened after that?”

“That’s when I bumped into you…”

Lando had given up trying to make small talk about 5 minutes ago - whatever he thought was there was now gone; for some reason he just couldn’t break the awkward air that seemed to be stuck to them. He looked over to her, face furiously red and her expression hardened. He swung his arms by his side and kissed his teeth - she made no reaction. Georgie was trapped in a battle of her own thoughts, she was sure there was a connection between the two of them; something she had wanted to act on but now… She looked behind her, in hopes of finding it strewn on the ground.

“There you are, Georgie.” A voice called out, immediately the girl’s face snapped up and she seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Hurt flashed Lando’s face but she didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her words trailed off as she motioned towards Lando.

“Maisie, meet Lando - he drives for McLaren.” Georgie introduced Lando, stepping closer to him. Lando raised his hand up in acknowledgement, smiling warmly at Maisie. “Lando, meet Maisie - she’s my business partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Maisie said, opening up her arms to go to hug him. Lando accepted, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Maisie. Once she had returned to where she was standing before, she said: “Suppose it won’t be the last time we see you either.” She winked at Georgie.

Maisie clicked her fingers, “Oh yes, I remember now. So that’s why it felt so awkward walking up to you.” Maisie set her wine down and moved to face Georgie, a pained expression still painted onto her face. “Did you at least get his number?”

“As a matter of fact-”

Max Fewtrell looked at his watch for the fifth time in the space of 30 seconds. They were going to be late for the football match. He shook his head, scoffing at the irony of Lando priding himself in his punctuality. It wasn’t until he looked up that he realised Lando was only a few feet away from him, ambling slowly and staring at something in his hands. “Lando, mate. We’re going to be late” Max called out, however this wasn’t enough to break Lando out of his trance.

Storming up to him, it was only when Max was about to poke him that Max stopped and stared as well. In Lando’s hand appeared to be a business card.

“Why have you got a-” Max squinted at the cursive name at the top. “The little moments- what-” Confused was one word to describe how Max was feeling, so much so he almost forgot why he was so urgent for them to leave.

“I - uh - I met a girl.” Lando stammered, still staring at the card, his forehead furrowed.

“And that’s why you have a business card? Lando, football!” Max prompted, rolling his eyes and made to move forward when Lando added: “I think this was her trying to give me her number.”

Max turned back to face Lando, his face lit up, “What?” He chortled. Whatever trance Lando was in, he seemed to snap out of it and pocketed the card.

“You’re right, let’s get going.” Lando walked past Max, who was standing staring after Lando, completely dumbfounded.

“But - what!” Max followed hurriedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was she pretty?”

“Very.” Lando said.

“You gave him your business card?” Maisie doubled over in laughter, Georgie stared at her unamused.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would have given it to him like a normal person but you insisted on dragging me out of the Marquee.” Georgie quipped sharply.

“In my defence, we were going to be late for the-”

The pair looked at Georgie’s phone as it lit up and began to shriek the theme tune of ‘Downton Abbey.’ After Maisie’s incredulous look, Georgie went to pick it up, muttering under her breath: “I can’t work out how to change it back - don’t give me that look.”

The number wasn’t one she recognised, she picked up anyway, scrunching up her face. “Hello.”

“Hi.” A breathless voice replied, Georgie recognised the voice but she couldn’t quite place who. She must have stayed silent for longer than she intended because the caller added, “It’s Lando. Lando Norris.”

“Lando? Hey.” She stood up, her voice instantly softening. “How are you?” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I called-” Lando stuttered apologetically, Georgie felt her heart sink. She repeated herself, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I - no. I just - I needed to - There was an incident and I’m on my own but-” Georgie cut him off, “Lando, where are you.” Her tone was now serious, Maise mouthed ‘what’s wrong.’ She replied by holding up her finger as if to indicate ‘one minute.’

“I’m at my house.” He replied simply, he sounded tired and in shock.

“Do you want me to come over?” Georgie asked, her heart in her throat - it was only a moment ago he apologised for calling her. Maisie stood up, throwing her hands in the air, mouthing: “what are you doing?” There was another beat of silence, she could hear his breathing, he was trying to steady it.

“Yes. Please. I’ll text you the address.” He swallowed thickly, just like Georgie, he wasn’t sure what made him call her or - even more - say yes to her coming over. It was like there was someone speaking for him, controlling all of his actions concerning her. He didn’t understand it. Lando had only learnt her name that afternoon but it felt like he had known her for months - their little coffee shop sighting felt like years ago.

After he hung up, he ran his hands through his hair. His heart was still beating as though he was about to race. He had already called Charlotte and explained everything that had just gone down after the match, he had told her that he wasn’t alone and that he had good company. Technically he wasn’t lying because good company was about to arrive. Lando wasn’t sure how long he sat in that position for, the silence of his house felt deafening until the doorbell broke his thoughts. He opened it to an anxious looking Georgie, holding the unopened bottle that her and Maisie were about to start on. “I brought us a bottle.” Lando cracked a smile, opening the door wider so she could come through.

“I’m not normally allowed but I think Jon will let me off.” He muttered, closing the door behind her. Before he could say another word, she had wrapped her arms around his neck - “You looked like you needed a hug.” He could just about make out. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into him. In that moment of vulnerability he told her what had happened at Wembley and she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face: “You’re definitely in need of that drink then.”

It was some time later and they were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa in his living room, bottles of different sorts of wine sat empty on the glass table and Georgie was having to hold onto his shoulder to stop herself from falling over. Lando had just recounted a rather funny story - in hindsight it was probably only funny because of the amount of alcohol that they had consumed. Georgie had gotten drunk before, she was the type of drunk that never stopped talking but with Lando, all she wanted was to be close to him; as demonstrated by her holding onto his shoulder as soon as he said anything remotely funny, leaning across his body to reach for the wine. What she wasn’t aware of was the effect this was then having on Lando. He was completely in awe of Georgie, her ability to come in and sweep him off of his feet - he felt as though he could completely relax in her presence, as though nothing else mattered when she was there. He craved the warmth she was offering him, she wasn’t like all of the other girls Jon scolded him for meeting. Georgie was just as nervous and naive as he was - they both loved and craved the idea of comfort and affection from another human that wasn’t platonic but neither of them had any clue how. Perhaps it was more the fact that neither of them had met anyone yet that silently understood the troubles and tribulations that had led them to his point.

They were at peace with their thoughts, the alcohol fogging any sort of rationality. Lando looked over at Georgie, a content and easy smile sat effortlessly on her lips and a tinge of pink flushed on her cheeks. He shuffled closer to her so their shoulders were pressed against each other, “I’m glad I called you.” It was almost like the words shocked him as they came out of his mouth, as though he was airing his thoughts for the first time. The smile on her face only grew, Georgie moved her face closer to his so she could see every freckle and dimple and blemish. It was the first time she realised how beautiful he was - from the way his curls fell lopsided onto his forehead to his constant licking of his lips in an attempt not to shy away. She brought her thumb to his face, brushing it delicately.

“Eyelash.” She explained, his gaze transfixed on hers, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and blew the eyelash away. “Did you make a wish?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I did.” Lando answered, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, his touch burning Georgie’s skin. He inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning across her face. She braved a look at his lips, tearing away from the battle they had once again found themselves in. “What did you wish for?” She asked, her lips brushing his.

“If I told you - ” He began, releasing her wrist from his touch and instead tucking a loose strand of her back behind her ear. “It wouldn’t come true.”

Their lips still hadn’t touched, millimeters separated them, their noses brushing as though they were the first to give in. It was like they were daring each other to make the first move, who was going to be the first one to break. Every nerve in Georgie’s body was telling her to close the distance - it felt right. It would certainly make up for that afternoon’s display. She knew that he had no obligations to kiss her and she knew that the hand now resting on her cheek was inviting her - almost taunting her.

“Lando-” She pulled her head away, his hand falling limply to his side. Georgie squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself instantly.

“I know.” He whispered, looking down at the floor.

There were many reasons why Georgie pulled away. The main fear that both of them had mutually agreed on was that if she had closed the distance and if she had kissed him - all self control on either side was gone and there was no stopping the inevitability of all mature relationships. It was something that - whilst both were desperate for - now wasn’t the time and it would lead to a series of unfortunate events neither of them wanted.

“It’s getting late.” Lando grumbled, getting up from the floor. He wasn’t mad at Georgie because he knew it was the right thing - he felt it himself but he was also aware of the large part of him that wanted to indulge, to forget about any consequences and enjoy the raw connection that they had found.

“Yes, you’re right.” Georgie felt a pang of guilt in her chest, as he refused to meet her eye. She stood there frozen, unsure where to go or what to do. “I’ll go call an uber.” She muttered, excusing herself.

“Wait-” Lando called out to her, “Stay.”

Georgie looked at him, confusion etched on her face. Lando took a step towards her, his jaw tightened. He knew come morning he was probably going to regret what he was about to do, it was like he was teasing himself - setting himself up for another heartbreak. But this time it had to be different. It had to be.

“Please, I don’t think I want to be alone.” It was raw emotion talking and a new side to Lando that Georgie didn’t think she would ever see. She knew come morning she was going to regret what she was about to say, it was like she was leading herself down a hole that in the end she wasn’t going to be able to get out of.

“Ok.” She gave a half smile and reached for Lando’s hand.

That night they stayed in each other's arms. Relishing in the comfort they gave to one another, both wishing that tomorrow would never come.

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@mjuikoli @httplayer @phatyak

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ephemerlskies · 4 years ago

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constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back.

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire.

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound.

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay.

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override.

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried.

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him.

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts writing #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bestfriend!au #jungkook angst #bts series #jungkook bestfriendstolovers!au #jungkook series #constant craving #rubycoast

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ksyescribe · 4 years ago

Text

Visitor (Shouta Aizawa x Reader)

Prompt: A certain Pro-Hero’s taken a liking to you. So much so that he visits you in the dead of night after particularly difficult patrols.

Ship: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Content: Fluff, That’s it I was feeling soft,

A/N: I had this idea WEEKS back but when I tried to rewrite it from the first draft to now it just didnt work out. Like I don’t know what the hell it was but it wasn’t coming together. BUT today that hurricane rain came in strong as hell and inspiration struck. Does it flow? I think it does. Does the tone stay consistent? Probably not but it’s part of the learning process. And honestly I loved writing it so whatever :’) I hope you guys enjoy it

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Few things in Shouta's life truly brought him peace.

He could list them off on one hand if he needed to: the cat cafe that sat on the outskirts of town, a good cup of coffee, the small cabin he owned in the mountains down south, and of course you.

Standing in the doorway to your kitchen, as you busied yourself with making two cups of coffee, he remembered why.

Things were simple with you. When he watched you like this, it was easy for him to pretend just for a second that the two of you lived an ordinary, domestic life. Together.

It's not that he didn't enjoy his hero work, quite the opposite; in fact, he loved it. But when you were around, it was almost as if he craved to settle down, start a family, and just live a normal life like any other civilian could.

But he knew better.

He wasn't a chart-topper hero like All Might or Endeavour, but he still made enemies for himself as he worked. Which meant no one close to him was safe from them as long as he was active.

Hell, his colleagues didn't even know of your existence. But that was mostly because Shouta only visited you in the late hours of the night. After rough patrols, when he needed to destress, he came to you.

It wasn't often. He didn't want to make it a habit of relying on you in case things went south. But, there were nights where his body ached to be with you, and he just couldn't turn himself away from your cozy apartment.

While he lost himself in thought as he watched you, you smiled to yourself as you whipped up some small snacks to go along with your coffee.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up."

The soft tone of his voice broke him out of his trance. It sent small tremors down his spine as a feeling he can only describe as "comfort" settled in the tired crevices of his body. He raised an eyebrow at your back, "How did you know I was here?"

You press your lips together, preventing a full-blown smile from spreading over your lips. Truthfully, you'd heard the click of your balcony door opening earlier. That, paired with the unknown feeling which had been sitting in the pit of your stomach, had alerted you of the Pro-Heroe's arrival.

Breathy laughter fell from your lips, "Just a feeling."

His eyes narrowed at your back as you put the last finishing touches on the drinks and food items at hand.

"What? Like a sixth 'Shouta instinct' or something?" he snorts.

Now, you let out small giggles, "Yeah, something like that."

And then you turn around, and for Shouta, the world stops.

He really should be used to it by now. Really, he should.

It's not like this is the first time he's seen you. He's seen you plenty of times before, but for some reason, it's almost like every single time is the first time.

His eyes drink in the contours of your face. The way sharp edges contrasted with softer curves. The shape of your nose, the quirk of your lips, the way your eyes light up when your gaze lands on him.

God, he's always overwhelmed when he sees you for the first time. His body screams at him to reach out and hold a hand against your face. He wonders if you'd nuzzle your face into the callouses of his hands or if you'd just simply smile at him, content to have him touching you in some sort of way.

The grip he has on his biceps tightens as he crosses his arms tightly to avoid reaching out to you.

He doesn't have that luxury.

You barely notice, still giving him a full-lipped smile as you move towards him with a full cup of coffee. In his 'special' mug nonetheless.

It's a simple little kitten mug you had picked up in some bookstore you'd been browsing. He'd been caught off guard when you presented it to him the first time, that he couldn't help the full-body laugh he had let out.

"I couldn't get a cat, no pets allowed in the apartment." You had said with a small shrug, avoiding his gaze, "Thought this would be the next best thing."

It had quickly become one of many items deemed as "his" within your apartment.

"Every night I get that feeling, you show up," you say as you elaborate on your previous statement.

You're standing in front of him now, an arm's length away, waiting for his hands to reach out so you can pass the mug to him.

"Every, single, time," you say as you push the mug into his outstretched hands, fingers brushing against his for a mere moment.

He inhales sharply as he feels your fingers brush his for that small second. Just that tiny brush has his skin on fire. His hands felt electric.

You look at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile as you hear him take a deep breath. You mistakenly assume it's to smell the coffee, "It's a new brew! It smells just divine, doesn't it?"

Shouta's not fond of overused cliches, but he can't help but think of the word "sparkle" as he looks into your eyes. The light reflecting off them showcases your intense joy. It felt infectious. He can feel himself soften even more as he takes in your expression. Your face practically radiates happiness as you look up at him expectantly.

"Yes," he breathes out, "Divine."

Your eyes widen a fraction at his reaction, a small trembling breath slipping past your lips. Your eyes drop as you feel your cheeks begin to heat up at the implications of his words. He can't possibly be talking about coffee with that sort of tone, right?

Clearing your throat quietly, you step back, turning around to collect your mug from the counter.

His fingers tighten around the mug as he watches the space between you grow again.

He hates it.

Hates keeping you at arm's length. He wants you with him.

Every second of every day. He wants you at his side.

It's a realization he's come to over the past few months of this arrangement. Coming to your apartment past midnight. You welcoming him with open arms, even going as far as feeding him.

He's fallen for you.

Despite the dangers of his life. Despite what he's done to keep this "relationship," the two of you have as platonic as possible. You've somehow managed to burrow yourself deep into his heart. In all honesty, he's not sure he wants to remove you from there.

It's why he hasn't stepped foot inside your house for the last few weeks. He needed to put some distance between you. Something to reduce the effect you had on him.

But now, standing here in your kitchen again. It seems like the distance only made his feelings stronger.

He's hopelessly in love with you, and he isn't sure what he can even do about it.

His attention is once again captured by you, as you gesture towards the table. Taking the hint, he moves over, seating himself in one of the unoccupied chairs. You across from him in the other, placing down a plate with food in front of him.

Silently, he dips his head in a small bow, thanking you for the food.

"Itadakimasu," you mumble before taking a sip of the dark liquid. Shouta mimics your actions, relishing in the warmth that the coffee provides him.

It's perfect. Sweet with just a tang of bitterness to keep him grounded.

The two of you sit silently. Picking off items from the plate as you continue to sip your drinks.

You're the one who breaks the silence.

"Did" you pause before continuing, "did I do something?"

Shouta pauses for a mere second, his lips centimeters from the rim of the cup as he takes in your stuttering inquiry. Then, he takes a sip before raising an eyebrow at you, "What do you mean?"

You gaze down at the dark liquid, your fingers fidgeting around the mug as you gather up the courage to speak again.

"I just," you let out a small sigh before continuing, "Before tonight, you hadn't passed by in weeks."

He watches as you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening them once again. Your gaze finding his.

"I just wanted to know if I did anything to offend you..." you trail off hesitantly.

Once again, Shouta's reminded of how beautiful your face is. Even with concerned features, the beauty doesn't leave your face at all.

His head begins to shake, "No. You didn't do anything. Trust me."

Already, the creases of worry begin to disappear from your face.

"Then, what is it?" you ask as you tilt your head at him.

He brings the mug back up to his lips. Taking long sips, he buys some time to think of an excuse. What can he even say to you?

"I..." he trails off, racking his brain for anything. God, he's usually so fast with his kids, but it seems like that's nonexistent with you.

But he doesn't get a chance to respond before you blurt out, "If it's because of me, I promise that you aren't an inconvenience!"

You lean forward on your elbows as you speak quickly but quietly, "I swear! I may be quiet because it's past midnight, not that there's anything wrong with you showing up at this hour, but I promise I really enjoy your presence. I mean, it's nice to have someone to talk to. It gets lonely around here, and I'm always looking forward to your visits. I really like you, you know?"

Shouta manages to keep his expression passive, but he can't help but inhale sharply at your declaration.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you let slip out. That sets you off on another talking spree.

"O-Oh my god I didn't mean to. I just, I mean, you're a wonderful person to be around. You're good company to have around. Not that anyone's saying you're not good company. I just, oh god, I'm so sorry for making this awkward. You don't have to say anything I promise I'll just drink my coffee in silence and you can lea-"

Shouta's hand on your wrist causes you to stop abruptly. He holds your gaze over the rim of his cup as he takes another drink. He's not saying anything, but still, you feel your cheeks burning. God, he probably thinks you're an absolute idiot.

Quietly he places the cup down, raising an eyebrow at you, "So, you like me?"

If possible, the warm sensation on your cheeks gets stronger. He's trying to get a reaction out of you, and it's working.

"I-I..." you stutter out weakly. But he's already shaking his head at you, a sly smile on his face.

"It's okay, kiddo," you scowl at the despised nickname he calls you, "I'm fond of you too."

"I'm only five years younger than you!" you retort back.

"Is that what you decided to focus on?" He strokes long lines along your wrist as he smirks at you, waiting for you to counter.

You're so thrown off that you can't respond. Instead, you open and close your mouth as you try to formulate a response. Your brain's still trying to process his confession.

He tilts his head at you, "So, you want to know why I haven't been coming around these past few weeks?"

Not trusting your voice, you nod slowly at him.

"Well," he clears his throat, his eyes dropping to where his hand is resting on your wrist, "there's no reason for me to beat around the bush, so I'll just come out and say it."

Your eyebrows pull together as you look on curiously, sensing the shift of his tone.

"I stopped coming around because I felt like I was getting too attached to you." His eyes flick back up to yours, watching as you try to decipher what his words mean.

You knew that Shouta was an independent man. Lived alone, worked alone, fought alone. He held everything he needed to survive and fight within himself. So you can understand that distancing himself from something when he became too dependent would be logical. But, you didn't think that applied to people too. Regardless, why would depending on people be such a bad thing?

He watches as you lose yourself deep in thought. You're mouthing inaudible words as you confusingly work your way through the ideas in your head. He figures you'll need a helping hand to make sense of it all.

"What I mean to say is," he watches your eyes meet his, "I started to develop feelings for you. Knowing my track record, with villains and all, I thought it'd be best to put some distance between us."

Immediately you're sitting up straighter, the mood in the room shifting quickly.

"That isn't your decision to make." Your eyes bore into his, all traces of playfulness and nervousness disappearing from your face, "I know what your work entails. I know it's dangerous, but I don't care. I'm the only one who gets to decide if something is too dangerous for me to handle. You don't get to do that for me."

In his grasp, you turn your hand over, as you slide your pal up to meet his. He watches as you interlace your fingers together. Your fingers filling the gaps between his perfectly.

"And I already decided a long time ago that being with you is worth it." You squeeze his hand reassuringly as you finish talking.

His gaze trained on where you're joined together. There's an indescribable emotion unfurling deep within his chest. His eyes flit back up to meet yours, determination shines clearly within them.

"I have enemies. People who want to harm me. They'll come for you too."

"I know," your gaze never wavers, "and I don't care. Let them come for me."

He'll die before he lets any of them come near you.

"I'm constantly working. If it's not school, then I'm patrolling."

"I know, and I don't care. My schedule's changing weekly. It doesn't bother me."

"I can't give you a normal relationship."

"I don't want normal. I want you."

Empty mugs and dinnerware sit between the two of you. Your hands are still joined together in the middle of the table.

You hold each other's gaze, attempting to decipher the emotions that swirl within your eyes. Shouta's hesitation shines brightly within his. He's not sure if he wants to drag him down into this world with him. Your determination doesn't falter, but now there's hope that mixes with it. You're not scared of this. He's a good man, and you'd risk anything to stand at his side.

"It seems like you've thought about this a lot."

You nod at him, "I have."

He nods silently, eyes flickering back to your hands, "Well, since it's your choice, what do you want to do? Now that you have all the facts, that is."

You take a deep breath, a smile finding its way onto your lips, "I want you to go out on a date with me."

He lets out a breath of laughter. You sure don't waste time. "I'm free next Saturday. But let me tell you, I'm not particularly fond of those over the top places."

You snort, waving him off with your free hand, "Luckily for you, I'm not either."

You give his hand a small reassuring squeeze, glancing at him, "Saturday at 8?"

"Saturday at 8."

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #aizawa shouta imagines #aizawa imagines #aizawa shouta x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #bnha reader inserts #mha reader inserts #aizawa imagine #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta imagine #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa imagines

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lunarastrobabe · 4 years ago

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Piers Nivans x F!Reader (Platonic): Friend like Me

(No Warnings, Fluff)

Maine, USA

Working in the BSAA wasn’t the first job you had, but it certainly was the most difficult. Especially keeping up with all the paperwork you had to do. You had one best friend in this joint, and it was Piers. Piers being only 10 years younger than you, he was one of the wisest men you had ever met. You two had known each other since he first joined the BSAA, you got along incredibly well, you would pull pranks on your fellow colleagues including Chris Redfield.

You had always wanted a little brother when you were a kid but you were an only child. When Piers joined the BSAA, it was like your dream had come true, he was the little brother you never had. And for Piers, having you, was like the big sister he always wanted, someone to look up to and someone to be inspired by.

You and Piers hadn’t been on a night out together in a long time and you two needed to catch up, so on a Friday evening, just as you were about to go home for the night to take some time off during the weekend, you walked over to Piers who was shuffling papers around on his desk. A dark blue coffee mug half empty sat next to his computer, which left a coffee stain on the wood. He huffed getting frustrated that he couldn’t find an important document which he needed to give to Chris reporting on the last mission they had dealt with. Standing over the desk throwing papers around and accidentally knocking some pens and pencils off the desk and onto the carpet, he noticed you were looking over at him with an eyebrow raised. You had never seen a desk so cluttered and normally he was very tidy most importantly when it was to do with work.

“You alright there?” You let out a giggle putting a hand on your hip. He lifted his head and looked over at you, “Not really.” He let out a small, anxious laugh. “Have you seen my report anywhere?” He asked with a hopeful look on his face.

“No, unfortunately.” You shook your head walking over to him, he sat back down and slumped into his chair, the seat creaking as he did so, leaning his head back. “Damn ..” He muttered under his breath.

“You look like you could use a night out. Let’s go, I’m buying drinks.” You spoke up, excitement in your voice, sitting on the side of his oak office desk.

“I can’t (Y/N), I have to find this report by tomorrow.” He groaned in annoyance that his report was still missing and it was very important to him that he’d get it in on time.

“Oh c’mon little bro, it’ll be fun! You never know, you might meet a cute girl.” You gave him a few winks and nudged him in the shoulder with your elbow. He could never say no to you especially when alcohol was involved, so he cleared his throat, sitting up in his chair and answered, “Okay okay alright, I’ll come.” You jumped up from the desk with a big smile on your face.

“But, don’t you want to change first?” You asked, stifling a laugh, pointing at him still in his BSAA uniform as he stood up, tucking his chair under the desk. “Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry now would you?” Your own joke made yourself laugh, you both loved to annoy each other but never took it personally, being friends with Piers is always a blast, knowing you could make any type of joke and he wouldn’t be phased by it, instead he’d just make another joke possibly worse than your own.

He mocked your laugh, “Funny, besides, girls love a man in uniform.” He pushed your shoulder playfully.

“If you say so, Nivans.” You slid on your jacket and both walked out of the office turning out the lights and leaving the building. Since neither of you were going to drive due to the multiple tequila shots and dancing you both had planned to do, you decided to call a taxi. Your memory went into a flashback as you looked out the window at the dark city outside, the lights from multiple buildings and skyscrapers lit up the night sky. The air felt fresh but cold, normally how it felt after a heavy rainfall. The scenery reminded you of your childhood, being a city girl wasn’t easy, even when it came to finding an apartment and having a low income but you smiled at how far you had come in life, and meeting all of your friends including Piers when you joined the BSAA.

The taxi parked up outside a very popular bar, you could hear the music pounding and the people singing along, all of them were drunk as you could tell by the terrible singing impressions they were all doing. After paying the driver, you both walked inside the building, colourful lights of red, blue, pink and green flashing like a seventies disco, you were eager to start drinking and the party girl inside of you needed to come out.

“Shots first?” You turned to face Piers who had already started drinking from a bottle of Corona beer he had just ordered while you were too busy observing.

He stopped drinking, the tip of the bottle still on his mouth and looked at you. Looks like getting drinks was a good idea after all. You laughed as he apologised for getting a drink before you.

“Don’t sweat it lil bro.” You ruffled his light brown hair and walked over to the bar and ordered six tequila shots and brought them to a little table he was sat at. It was a little booth with red leather-type seating, the table had things carved into the light wood, most of it was either names of people or just random profanities. There was a window next to the booth with curtains pulled back.

He put his beer down and set it aside onto a coaster and took 3 full shot glasses and put them in front of him, you following his actions.

“Whoever drinks them all quicker, has to pick a random stranger and tell them something embarrassing.” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Alright, you’re on!” Your confidence showing, knowing he’d lose. You were a faster drinker than he was and he was one hundred percent sure he’d win every single time. You both came up with weird pranking ideas to set on random strangers, all just for shits and giggles, some get angry and some don’t, but it makes funny memories to tell your friends.

Holding your first shot glass in your hand you both looked each other in the eye, making silly facial expressions.

“3, 2 ... 1!” As soon as he said ‘one’, you both inhaled each shot, obviously, you beating him as you did in the past. He made a disgusted face, he hated the flavour of tequila but it was worth it seeing him shudder from the aftertaste.

“Oh my god that’s nasty stuff. Are you trying to kill me?” He said in a dramatic tone, sounding like a teen girl.

Laughing at him and his reaction you put your fingers in the shape of an ‘L’ against your forehead, chanting “Loser! Loser!”

“No fair, you cheated!” He pushed the empty shot glasses away and took back his half full beer, which was surprisingly still cold.

“Yeah, yeah, Mister Slowpoke, now go find a stranger to irritate.” Getting up from your seat you pulled him up from the booth and pushed him on the back to the dance floor.

“But- what if-” He started, you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, still pushing him towards the hoard of people.

“It’ll be fine dude, now go!” He stood up straight and straightened his uniform going over to a group of girls who were grouped together dancing to the beat coming out of the pounding speakers. You went and quickly sat back down in the booth and smiled, observing, you were secretly trying to hook him up with a nice girl since he hadn’t had a date in a long time and you wanted to give him that little boost, but, like he said, girls love a man in uniform. He must’ve said something embarrassing to the girl because she found it hilarious from her drunken laugh that you could hear through the crowd of people.

Either way, what you could see from your view, he was doing very well, you saw a brunette girl in a blue skater dress take his hand and lead him to the middle of the room, both of them had cheesy smiles on their faces and that’s when you knew you did a perfect job.

“I knew he could do it. My work here is done.” You said to yourself, proud that you were able to help him even if it was without his knowledge, you took his beer that he left and drank the rest of it. This would be a great story to tell to your colleagues tomorrow.

#piers nivans #resident evil #piers nivans x reader #x reader #my first platonic fic

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undertaker1827 · 4 years ago

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Can I request 3,7,and 23, for othello, maybe they work together and are on mutual/friend terms but one of them confesses at work, whether it be over time, a break, morning, whichever you choose. Thank you! 🧡💚🧡

Yes of course you can!! Ahh young love ... I had far too much fun writing this, sorry it took so long and I hope you enjoy!!

Prompts in bold

Masterlist

“I don’t know why,” you started, eyebrows drawn in frustration and already starting your third coffee of the day, “but I swear dispatch has been even crazier than normal these last few days.” Your companion nodded his agreement, a few strands of dark green hair falling over the frames of his glasses. You both glanced to the side to watch as another six or seven reapers rushed by in a group, a good four of them from the same section of the collections department as you. They were all whispering to each other in hushed tones, looking very much like they were trying to give the impression everything was fine when in reality it was everything but.

“Bound to be something going on in the human world,” Othello commented, gaze lifting over your shoulder as another three collections reapers strode towards the opposite corridor. The two of you had managed to coordinate a five minute coffee break in the canteen to ‘rest’, really just wanting to trade theories on what was going on.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, a thought suddenly presenting itself in your mind, “What about that latest murder they had your lot looking into? Apparently Ronald Knox was supposed to be on collections for it but I heard they even sent William T. Spears down there.” Othello’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, then he allowed his gaze to drift as he thought about the crime scene in question.

“There was nothing overly out of the ordinary about that though. I mean, yeah they wanted us to take a look, but only as a safety precaution. I never even went down there myself; sent one of my colleagues to have a look - and he said there wasn’t much to report anyway.” Othello mused about the various tests that had been conducted and that he was on the verge of concluding ‘no forensic notes of interest’. “Maybe it’s something to do with that demon,” he continued, “y’know, with the young contractor who Grell’s always going on about.”

“Bassy.”

“That’s the one.” Suddenly feeling eyes trained on the back of your head, you turned to see your superior standing at the canteen’s entrance clutching what looked suspiciously like your clipboard and looking like he was physically restraining himself from telling you to hurry up and dragging you back to your office.

“Well, duty calls I guess.” You gave the other reaper an apologetic smile then stood to drop your disposable cup in the bin. “See you later.”

“See you.” Othello watched as you walked briskly away, facing your superior with an air of professionalism that he had never quite seemed to conquer. He had always admired you for that. In fact, he thought, he had always admired you for a lot of different things. You were always immaculately dressed in crisp black suits, no matter how many souls you reaped you never got a drop of blood on you - you claimed you didn’t dare to as you had no idea where it had been - and he didn’t think you had ever handed an assignment in late, even during your training days. He sighed dejectedly though, as he could think about you all day every day if he should choose, but it would never change the fact that you only saw him as a friend. Little did he know that you were thinking something very similar.

Once your superior had handed over your latest bout of paperwork and then left, you sat at your desk for a few moments, twirling a pen between your fingertips. Forensic science had always been a great interest of yours, even if you never went into the department for it. You had completed countless personal projects in the field, often enlisting the help of Othello for the sake of first hand accuracy and sometimes even using your friendship to get in on a few cases after hours. You let out a deep breath as you thought about your ‘friend’. You had considered him to be more than that for quite some time now, but hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him yet, lest it destroy your relationship all together. In your mind at least, something platonic was better than nothing at all.

It would be another few days before you saw Othello again. Everyone’s workload had been shot through the roof and there was crazy gossip circling the hallways during people’s breaks, to the point where you had heard one girl from management whisper to her friend about a deserter who was going on the rampage in the human world. Personally, you took all the gossip channels with a heavy pinch of salt, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t take your hard earned intel to Othello to have a good old fashioned discussion about it.

By the time you got to your midday break, or rather, crashed into and almost fell straight through it, you were all but desperate for a heavy shot of the gloopy, black sludge the canteen offered as coffee. It tasted horrendous, but the caffeine hit was like no other.

You glanced around for Othello in the spot where you usually sat when you arrived, only to find you couldn’t see him. Shrugging to yourself, you took a seat for the sake of fishing out a small notebook and penning in a reminder, before standing up again, intent on getting-

“Can I sit with you?”

“Othello! I didn’t see you there!” You exclaimed, a wide grin splitting your features. “And of course, sit down!” He did so with a grateful smile, looking about as worn out as you felt. He then slid a black gloved hand across the table, pushing a disposable cup of pure delight in your direction.

“I made you coffee,” he started with a small, almost bashful smile, “Or rather, bought you coffee. Got you coffee? I think it’s law that they have to give it out for free here anyway...” He trailed off to laugh at the goofy look on your face. Your features were the physical representation of the ‘heart eyes’ emoji as you took the proffered drink, inhaling the heavenly smell and then all but inhaling the liquid too. You came up momentarily for air and to give him as many thanks as you could muster in the time you had, then went back to downing the caffeine. Othello’s gaze softened the longer he looked at you, and the words were out of his mouth before he really had time to consider their consequences.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You almost choked on your drink. Beautifully.

“I’m what?!” You proceeded to spend the next minute hacking up a lung and finally fell forwards onto the table, chest heaving for air. “You were saying?” You tried to recover the situation as best you could, ignoring the other reaper’s raised eyebrow.

“From that overreaction I’d guess you heard me, but just in case you didn’t-” might as well just go for it now, “-I said ‘you’re so beautiful’.” A pause. “And-god I don’t know if I’m going the right thing here- I ... I like you. Like a lot. Not as a friend. And I really hope I’m not ruining our current relationship by saying this but I was wondering if you wanted to goonadatewithme?”

He said the last part so quickly that it took a minute for your brain to decode the message, but when it had it was all you could do to keep your mouth from literally dropping open. You spluttered quite incoherently for a few minutes before coming up with, “I - you - really?! You - you like me? Like me like me? Like that?!”

Othello offered a cheesy grin, almost as if he was expecting your permanent, undeniable rebuttable. “...yes?”

“Oh my god I like you too,” you blurted out, a little breathless with the confession. The other reaper visibly, full body relaxed right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t help a small grin of your own. “I like you too,” you repeated, more calmly this time, “and I would love to go on a date with yo-”

“Y/N!!” You froze in horror, slowly turning to see your superior striding towards you with an armful of papers in hand and noting repeatedly how the entire canteen had gone silent and were all now staring directly at you.

“Sir?” You asked quietly, having to put real effort into not shrinking under his intimidating stare.

“What in the world do you think you are doing?” You went to answer but he cut you off, not letting you state your case. “Here I am, waiting for you in your office where you assured me you would be at this exact time, only for you not to show up. I had to ask a coworker, a coworker, who, by the way, I have no jurisdiction over whatsoever, what has happened to you, only to find out that you’re here, slacking off in the canteen!! You made me walk all the way down here to come fetch you, now I will not tolerate this Y/N! Come with me immediately!”

One hand twitched out of reflex as he leaned down to your sitting height, eyes glinting and you fully expecting to receive some growled threat too severe to be shouted to the rest of the canteen.

“And congratulations on finally getting together, by the way,” he murmured, still glaring for the sake of keeping up appearances, “the entire office has had bets on when and which of you would finally get on with it for weeks.” He winked, almost too fast to catch, then stood abruptly and stalked away, chin up and back ramrod straight as usual. “Now come along! Stop dilly-dallying!” With that, he stalked right out of the canteen, a room full of whispers starting up as soon as the door closed behind him. Flabbergasted and simultaneously thrilled, you flashed a grin at Othello, who was bright red and doing his best to hide behind his coffee cup.

Even when walking through the crowd of people discussing what you possibly could have done to warrant that extreme of a reaction, you couldn’t keep the grin from your lips.

#black butler othello x reader #black butler othello #othello x reader #othello #black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #black butler reapers #kuroshitsuji othello #kuroshitsiji othello x reader #black butler reader inserts

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imaconstantmess · 5 years ago

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Until Part 3/?

Part 3 to this series, sorry it’s been a while but recently I’ve had tons of online work to do, as always this is my first story so thoughts would be appreciated ❤️

Steve x gender neutral! Reader

Steve’s mind has been occupied for the past few weeks, and it’s got something to do with the recruit he’s been assigned to train.

Bit more Bucky and Sam oriented

Warnings: mentions abuse, mild threats.

————————————————————

Bucky and Sam did one last final check of your apartment, just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything important. After they got off the phone to you, their attitudes dropped slightly when they saw the damage that had been done the night before.

“It’s a good job Steve didn’t see this, he might throw the guy out of the window” sam said as he was walking around the mess Tyler had made. “This could’ve done some real damage” he said as he heard a soft crunch under his shoe. He’d stepped on a little piece of pot.

“I know, look at the size of the hole in the wall” Bucky traced the wall, the hole was bigger than a fist. “But about Steve seeing the damage, he may or may not have already seen it.” Bucky said in a quiet tone.

“What you mean, already seen it?” Sam crosses his arms over his chest with his eyebrow raised.

“Had a few issues with the camera. Y/n didn’t seem bothered...” Bucky remarked as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder.

Sam let out a small laugh “damn it Barnes, if Steve sees the guy he’s going to rearrange his face. Not like Y/n couldn’t, but Steves got that whole hero complex going on”

Bucky wished he could argue. Even before the serum Steve would always stand up for what’s right, which wouldn’t be a bad thing if Steve didn’t end up getting jumped in alleys for it. Little punk would never walk away, always tried to hit back. Before Bucky could come up with a decent remark, the men heard the door open.

“What the hell! Who are you?! I’m calling the police!” Tyler looked frantic as he fumbled with his mobile phone. Sam and Bucky gave each other a look before Bucky snatched the phone from Tyler’s hands, and gently threw it on the couch at the other side of the room. They both pinned Tyler down with a stare, but next to Bucky, with his murder face and metal hand on full display, Sam hated to admit he didn’t feel quite as intimidating as he would have liked. With both of them making eye contact with Tyler, he recognised them. He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or worried, because he’s only a civilian and wasnt really an avengers level threat. But then again, he had not one, but two avengers in his living room looking like they wanted to choke him. With a shaky breath and a tense body, Tyler spoke again.

“Why are you here?” He looked between them and noticed they were holding bags. Your bags. Then it dawned on him where you worked, and the people you knew. He hadn’t really paid attention to what you were saying when you went on about work, he thought you were exaggerating your position to make yourself look good. He didn’t actually think you were on speaking terms with any of the avengers except Steve and Bucky, but that was because he assumed you were cheating. He saw the way you smiled at Bucky when you met him in the street one day. He figured it had to be either him or captain fucking America. In his mind, this just proved his theory. Before Sam or Bucky could reply, Tyler carried on.

“Come to get your lovers things? Fucking typical. I knew there was something going on...” Tyler spat, aiming his little jab towards Bucky.

“Wait hold up, lover? What the hell are you talking about?” Sam was very confused, and was done with this guys shit. “They ain’t lovers. Y/n’s been loyal to you for reasons I cannot comprehend” Sam sassily gave back while gesturing to the wall. “They’ve left your ass, and we’ve come to get their stuff because we’re tight like that. You give y/n any trouble, wether it be on social media, the press, real life or otherwise” Sam got closer to Tyler’s face, being taller than him by a few inches. Tyler gulped. “shield will rain down harassment and abuse lawsuits on you so hard it might as well have come from the Holy Ghost.” Sams voice was low, and Bucky smirked at the terrified look on Tyler’s face. Sam stood straight, and walked past him to the door, bumping shoulders with him so hard he nearly fell. Picking up another bag, Sam made his way out the door and down the hallway, leaving Tyler alone with Bucky.

Tyler turned to Bucky and expected him to follow after Sam, but was surprised to find Bucky leaning casually against the wall, not saying anything and staring. It’s a technique Bucky remembered from his winter soldier days, to use on weak targets. Silence and staring made people squirm, and Bucky wanted him to be as uncomfortable as possible. Then after about 2 minutes, Bucky suddenly got up from the wall and to his delight, Tyler jumped.

That was when Bucky finally spoke. “See, people like you boil my blood. Make me wonder if it’s worth saving the planet when there’s asswipes like you walking around” Bucky was circling Tyler, voice low and gravelly.

Saving the planet. Bucky slipped that in there to remind Tyler what he was capable of, if the whirring of his metal arm didn’t do the trick. He held back a smile when he saw Tyler start to break a sweat. Bucky stopped his circling, and stood in front of the shaking mess that was your ex boyfriend. Bucky leaned in close, voice low, almost whispering.

“I know a few people who wouldn’t care how they hurt you. They would make sure your body was never found. The list includes master assassins, half of shield, a genius..” the look on Tyler’s face was pure fear. Bucky thought how the team who had superhuman abilities would react. “Thor would kill you quick. Dr banner... well you know what he’s like when he’s angry with people. Wanda would keep you alive, messing with your head. As for me and Steve...”

Bucky rolled his shoulders, metal arm making a dangerous sound. Tyler looked ready to pass out. “We’ve been in the toughest war fronts you could possibly imagine. Steve has a habit of jumping out of planes with no parachute, and comes out without a scratch, and I have this metal arm. We’re super soldiers. And you pissed us off.” Bucky grabbed Tyler’s shirt with his metal arm and pinned him against the wall.

“You’ve personally pissed off Captain America. Not very patriotic is it?” Tyler didn’t dare say a word. “I asked you a question” Bucky stared him down.

“N-no.. it- it’s not.” He couldn’t get a word out. Bucky wouldnt usually do this, but he saw steves reaction on the phone. He’s only ever seen that look when they were facing the enemy, weather it be an alien or a scumbag on a mission. If Bucky did this, it would stop Steve from seeking Tyler out personally. And you were his friend, he was mad too.

“That’s what I thought.” Bucky let go of Tyler’s shirt and hap hazardly smoothed it down. “ we’ll be back. I don’t know when. Y/ns not coming back here. If any of their stuff is broken or missing... well I’ll leave that up to your imagination.” Bucky stepped back, and walked out the door leaving Tyler almost crying.

With a satisfied smirk, Bucky made his way to the car and put your bag in the back and got in the front. Sam turned to him with an annoyed expression. “You didn’t kill him did you? You were in there a while”

“No, just threatened him a little on behalf of the team. I think he’s crying” Bucky said with a shrug. Sam let out a small laugh as he drove towards steves apartment.

————————————————————

Steve hadn’t taken his arm from you, and you weren’t moving. The tv was on, and you were just chatting quietly every now and then, just being relaxed in each other’s presence. It was a nice, strangely intimate gesture from both of you, but still remaining platonic. You got up to grab some bags from Sam and Bucky, and took them into the bedroom to find a quick change of clothes and some deodorant. As you were getting ready, Bucky and Sam sat down on the sofa with Steve to wait. Sam spoke up

“So we ran into Tyler at the apartment” he said casually watching steves reaction. He stayed still. Unnaturally still. The kind of still you go when you’re trying not to give anything away.

“ yeah?” Steves reply was short. He wanted to be angry, but he was captain America. He needed to pull it together.

“ uh huh. Went through the whole ‘I’m calling the police’ thing.” Sam imitated in an unflattering voice which made Bucky chuckle.

Bucky piped up “so naturally, we threatened him. Sam went for the ‘say a bad thing against y/n and we’re gonna sue your ass’. I went for the more subtle approach of pinning him against the wall and telling him how anyone from the team could kill him and get away with it. You know, nothing too serious.” Steve let out a smile at that, and his posture became natural again. He felt a lot better now, knowing how intimidating Bucky can be. The only thing bothering him was how he didn’t get to do it himself. When you emerged from the bedroom, you smiled at the men who were now chatting amongst themselves.

“You guys ready to go?” They looked at you and smiled, getting up to leave. When you turned to get your jacket, Steve noticed what you were wearing. You wore a tight, crew necked black shirt which showed you off in just the right way, and some simple navy blue jeans. You looked... nice. That was the word Steve would use. Seeing you relaxed in normal clothing, fresh faced and not dishevelled from training was refreshing. It made you look more... civilian. Domestic. Like you were friends with Steve past being work colleagues. Seeing you like this, made Steve strangely feel normal. And he supposed that today, he was.

He wasn’t captain America when he ordered a burger that day. He was a guy who went out with his friends, missing brunch and settling for lunch instead. He wasn’t captain America when he laughed at Sam for spilling his dinner on his shirt, or when he was smiling at you when you were in a deep conversation with Bucky explaining the plot of starwars. He was Steve Rogers. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time, and he basked in the fact that he was Steve Rogers today. He never got time to be ordinary. That was until he laughed with you. He never got to show people his ordinary side, afraid they’d prefer the star spangled man.

Until a recruit showed him how to be himself again.

Until you.

————————————————————

A/n: made this a little shorter, and hopefully easier to read? It’s my first story so as always please give criticism, especially if there was anything you didn’t like. Thank you for taking the time to read it though 😇

#steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #sam wilson #gender neutral reader

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speakingformyself101-blog · 5 years ago

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The Death of a Friend

‘Death waits for no man’- Markus Zusak

You can never prepare yourself for death. He doesn’t wait until you’re ready, he could care less about your last goodbyes. It doesn’t matter if your good or bad, young or old, death is indiscriminate by nature. Death waits for no man, and he certainly didn’t wait for my friend Joe, who died before he could truly live.

I first met Joe after packing my bags and flying to China with dreams of becoming a teacher. Having arrived at the school a day before me, Joe and I became fast friends; both from England, freshly graduated, and severely out of our element, we found comfort in the familiarity of each other. Genuine and uncomplicated, the friendship blossomed over our shared endeavour to navigate the unknown. Eventually more friends were added on, and we established our own little squad, unbreakable and ready to take on whatever China could throw at us. We laughed together, celebrated each other’s achievements, and provided a shoulder to cry on.

Grief had always been an ambiguous concept to me; never having lost someone I was close to before, my experience and understanding of it derived primarily from TV. This ultimately made it difficult for me to empathise with others, and aside from the customary “I’m sorry for your loss”, my thoughts didn’t venture much further than that. That’s not to say I was some sort of emotionless psychopath, of course I sympathised for those going though such tragedy; believe me when I tell you I was a blubbering wreck for the full 2 hours of P.S. I Love You. But my emotions always had a shallowness to them, which eventually shifted to scepticism. Too often when I witnessed grief on TV it seemed exaggerated to me; the heartache taken and twisted into a caricature-esque illustration of its original self. I looked at it as an over-saturation of real-life, reserved for the big screen to justify drawn-out movie sequences where the main character screams and rages of the injustice of it all while melancholic piano plays softly in the background

It was only after experiencing grief personally that I realised wherein my derision lied. Oftentimes movies and TV shows will portray a character in denial or anger, but fail to show the mental journey that has taken place within the character’s mind to lead them there. Subsequently, to someone ignorant of the psychological proceedings that occurs internally when processing the death of a loved one, it can seem as if these reactions simply manifest out of thin air, with no rhyme or reason to them. Though I can only speak for myself, this failing stripped the emotions of its sincerity, making it harder to empathise with.

‘We begin to live again, but we cannot do so until we have given grief its time.’- Kubler Ross’s ‘The 5 Stages of Grief’ (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance)

In Kubler Ross’s ‘The 5 Stages of Grief’ (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance) he discusses the mental dealings behind the core emotions we feel while grieving, including its reason, importance to the grieving process, and how we move past it. He emphasises that ‘there is not a typical response to loss as there is no typical loss. Our grief is as individual as our lives’. My experience with grief was similar to others in many ways, yet personal disposition, circumstances, and the nature of our friendship meant that my understanding and relationship with grief was wholly my own.

‘This first stage of grieving helps us to survive the loss’

When I first heard the news from a friend over the phone, I was in another country at the time. My denial didn’t manifest in the form of ‘I can’t believe this has happened’ but rather ‘I don’t believe this has happened’. What I mean by this is that, it’s not that I couldn’t accept the truth, but that I actively choose not to. It created a divide in my head, deep down I was aware that I was only lying to myself, but I did it anyway because there was no other option for me at that point. I did whatever I could to strengthen this pipe dream; I told myself that my friend sounded too composed over the phone (he was in shock), that it was just some sick prank they were playing, that motorcycle accidents don’t happen to 21-year-old’s who haven’t even been given the chance to live yet. Me and Joe worked together, and I remember checking the work chat every day thinking that until they make an announcement, there’s still a chance it’s all fake. The physical distance between me and Joe made it so much easier to create a mental distance between myself and the truth. It became a case of seeing is believing, and until someone could provide me with physical evidence of his death, I would carry on this ruse.

During my young teens, I was a sucker for the so-called ‘Girl Power’ storyline. Movies that pitted the strong-willed wall-flower against the sheltered and bird-brained female antagonist was my bread and butter. I had always envisioned myself as that strong-willed wallflower, a survivor at the core who could face whatever life throws at her head on, as if anything less would be a weakness. I grew to realise how utterly delusional of a mind-set that was, and appreciate the importance of allowing yourself to be emotionally vulnerable. However with all that said, it still makes me feel awkward to this day when I look back on my reaction to first hearing the news and think about how delusional I must have appeared to others. Eventually you just have to accept that, as Kubler- Ross states: ‘There is a grace in denial’, it is not a weakness one has to overcome, but rather a coping mechanism that allows us to handle only what we can.

‘Anger is the emotion we are most used to managing’

When I returned home, I could no longer deny what was right in front of me any longer; I could see my friend’s absence, and so I was forced to believe it. It was at this point when the beginnings of anger started to kick in. There was no clean-cut shift from denial to anger, one emotional state didn’t suddenly swoop in and knock the other off its pedestal. In his essay, Kubler emphasises that there is no ‘linear timeline in grief’. In my case, anger was born from my denial, it stemmed from no longer being able to keep denying what was now undisputable. I started to project this anger onto other people, getting annoyed when they openly discussed the details of what happened at work. What is there to talk about? He's gone, where was everyone constantly shoving the fact down my throat? To this day I still don’t know the full story of the accident because I was so against discussing it. All I wanted to do was bury my head in the sand, and it seemed like no one was going to let me do it in peace.

My anger started to turn ugly, I remember seeing a post someone made about how much Joe meant to them and thinking: why would you post this? You weren’t even that close to him? It felt disingenuous, like suddenly people were popping up out of the woodworks to add their two cents and make it all about them. I saw this attitude reflected in others around me, the occasional sly comment, a judgemental pause of silence, as if because you were closer to Joe it allowed you to police how others grieve and to what degree.

*Dusts off psychology A-level certificate*

Building any kind of relationship as a foreigner in China is a social experiment in its own right. Unable to communicate with the locals, unfamiliar of the cultural norms, and oftentimes going days without seeing an foreigner you haven’t already met, you begin to heavily rely upon the few friends you do make in China. Add on to this a 6-hour time differences and the Great VPN Firewall of China restricting accessibility to family and friends back home, you find yourself living in a social bubble. This same isolationism can be seen in reality shows like Love Island and Big Brother, which force their contestants into environments with little to no outside communication. The resulting effects is that relationships, both romantic and platonic, develop at an abnormally fast rate; it made the few months that I knew Joe much more potent than was normal. In such a short space of time Joe had carved a space for himself in my life: he was a colleague, friend, and brother all rolled into one. If I was stressed over something I came to him, if I was proud of something I came to him. But this still didn’t change the fact that, in the grand scheme of things, we were only a chapter in each-others stories, and so when it came to mourning his death, an overwhelming sense of inadequacy and guilt began to emerge.

In the same way that I judged others, I was judging myself. I began to question the validity of my own feelings, whether the short time I knew him justified such strong heartache or if I, like so many of the movies I watched before, simply up-playing a role I thought was appropriate. Did I deserve to feel so sad over someone I barely knew? Who was I to have enjoyed his last few months on earth while his family and lifelong friends couldn’t. When I was sat next to his family at the funeral, I felt like an imposter.

‘Acceptance is often confused with the notion of being “all right” or “OK” with what has happened’-Kübler-Ross & David Kessler

I wish someone had told me beforehand that acceptance does not always equal peace, sometimes it just leads to more heartache and depression. The comforting warmth of denial and distracting heat of anger had been rudely ripped away and what am I left with now? The cold hard truth, what a scam.

Accepting that my friend was gone didn’t suddenly make it easier to digest, if anything it made me question everything. Though it seems obvious, it wasn’t his death that was the hardest to grasp, it was the idea that he no longer existed, or at least not in the way he once did.

Kubler describes this stage as ‘accepting the reality that our loved one is physically gone and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality’. In the end, no matter what you believe, notions about an afterlife are all well and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that those passed are no longer in the here and now. How can a walking, talking person, with their own thoughts and dreams for the future, now simply be food for worms? How can someone who was previously physical only now exist in the memories of others? I didn’t want the responsibility of keeping someone alive through only my mind and a few pictures.

‘‘There is not a typical response to loss as there is no typical loss. Our grief is as individual as our lives’

If there is one thing I took away from this experience, it’s the understanding that grieving is a fiercely personal act, idiosyncratic to the individual. I witnessed friends who cried for weeks on end after hearing the news, while others did so only once. I saw friends find comfort in the company of others, and those who found peace through solitude. Some gained a stronger relationship with God, whereas some started to question everything that they once believed. I realised that the cause behind my judgement of all these tv shows was the same thing that made me condemn those who posted their feelings on social media: I am a very private person, and so these open displays of emotion didn’t relate to me. That’s not to say that I didn’t feel the exact same emotions as everyone else did, but when it comes to my emotions, I’m an introvert at heart. I don’t post my feelings on social media, I rarely cry in front of others, and big public displays of affection only make me cringe. If given the option, I will always choose to implode than explode. This ultimately lead me to my third and final revelation: Everyone grieves in their own way, there is no right, cookie-cutter, one size fits all way to grieve. In the end, it doesn’t matter how you grieve or how long for, it’s about allowing yourself to experience the emotion and working through it to one day achieve some form of equilibrium to this new reality. It’s a journey we all must walk, and one we can only do ourselves.

For anyone who is currently dealing with death for the first time, here are a few websites where you can find support:

https://www.supportline.org.uk/problems/bereavement/

https://www.cruse.org.uk/get-help/helpline

https://www.itv.com/thismorning/bereavement-helplines

#death #grief #friend #loss #mourning #5 stages of grief #five stages of grief

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xephinatheeleven · 7 years ago

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Sleep-Walking: 8 of 8

Word Count: 4,320

Summary: Part 8 is finally here!!!!

Warnings: Panic, fear

Pairings: Platonic Only!

———

Upon checking in on Thomas, Roman and Logan had been relieved to find everything sorted out. Their host, through the valiant deeds of Joan and Talyn, had not caused any issues that were irreparable. They had prevailed in their quest of keeping the online personality from any social media, on which he could have vanquished his fan-base with his unjust actions and opinions.

Apologies and thanks had been exchanged after an explanation of the hardships had been given. Upon hearing of them, Thomas requested a convention including both Patton and Virgil at the nearest opportunity. The differing traits promised to comply with his wishes before returning to the mind-palace, where they would wait to tell the tale of their victory to the other two.

Minutes turned to hours, and one after the other slipped into the past with no word from their companions. Slowly Princey began to worry that something disastrous had happened to them, “Logan, how long are we going to sit idly by waiting for Patton and Virgil?”

“I have been wondering about where they have gone as well.” The intellectual straightened his glasses, “I don’t think there is any issue however; the two of them are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”

The fanciful aspect stood from where he had been residing on the sofa, a sense of worry resting like a heavy burden on his shoulders, “do you think Deceit has returned and harmed them in some way?”

Logic shook his head, not looking up from his book, “I seriously doubt that. Deceit may be powerful when it comes to swaying Thomas’s judgment, but I don’t think he is capable of taking on both of them physically.”

The Prince couldn’t shake the nagging concern that there was something more sinister going on, as if something had gone wrong, “even still, should we not at the very least try and find them?”

The distant look in the eyes of the rational facet made him appear that much more thoughtful, “I don’t think so. We wouldn’t want to interrupt them.”

He was becoming exasperated with his colleague, “yes, but it didn’t take Virgil this long to talk with either one of us.”

“No, but it would seem that Patton’s fears were a bit more severe than our own. Correct me if I am wrong, but to my knowledge, neither of us had the same sort of panicked reaction to our apprehensions.”

The academic’s overly-placid view did nothing to calm his nerves, only causing frustration. He couldn’t just stand by; he was a knight, and if there was even a chance that the others were in distress, then it was his sovereign duty to find and assist them. “Be that as it may, I’m still going to search for them; if they need my help, I will not fail to oblige. You may join me if you so please, but you cannot keep me from trying.”

The whimsical persona was already heading for the corridor when a sigh from Logan caused him to halt, “fine. I can't have you getting lost in the mindscape alone…I’ll come with you.”

Roman had no idea as to how long they had been wandering the halls, and he’d lost count of how many turns they had made. One thing he was fairly certain of however, was that they had traversed this area already. It didn’t help that as time passed, he became more concerned. He was pretty sure Logic felt the same, but he didn’t voice it. He wished he had Anxiety’s skills of perception as they came upon another intersection; each direction seemed the same to him, but he was sure that there was some minor detail that he was over-looking.

The analytical side was leaning against the right wall, “Roman, I am almost certain that we are lost.”

He glanced down each of the corridors again; he had to find some way through them, “we can't just give up. Besides, if we are lost, how do we know the others aren’t?”

His friend’s tone was a clear indicator of his annoyance, “Virgil spends quite a lot of time in these parts of the mindscape, and so I think we can safely assume that the others are not lost.”

The creative trait couldn’t stop the thoughts and ideas that flooded his head, “do you think that they found a more dangerous part of the mind-palace and got themselves injured?”

They started down the left passageway, but that wasn’t cause for the intellectual to lose his tongue, “once again I shall remind you that Virgil knows more about these areas than the rest of us. The odds of him getting into a risky situation are next to none; which are diminished further if you think he would take Patton anywhere near such a place.”

“There is still a chance though,” The Prince had felt more comfortable dueling with the dragon-witch than he did roaming the darkened halls. “He doesn’t know every inch…they could be trapped!”

Logan, as he had many times prior in their adventure, sighed at his suggestion. “Virgil would never take Patton to any place that he wasn’t certain he couldn’t find their way back to the commons.”

The two of them made another turn, which did nothing to help them gain their bearings, “perhaps Patton ran off and Virgil went after him, and they got lost that way.”

The factual aspect shook his head, becoming more irritated as they walked, “Patton is afraid of being alone and abandoned, so I highly doubt he would leave Virgil’s side, especially not in a part of the mindscape of which he is unaccustomed.”

“Virgil said it himself, fear is a strong motivator…maybe Patton was worried something had happened and tried to come find us.”

The logical facet came to an abrupt halt, his arms crossed, “Roman this is all preposterous. I know that we disagree on quite a number of things, but I think we both know that the others are perfectly capable of dealing with difficult situations, and getting out of them if the need were to arise. If Patton feared that anything was wrong with us, he would merely request that Virgil escort him back to the commons.” He glanced around at the dim-lit corridor, “you are right about one thing; fear is a strong motivator, that’s why we’re wandering about like this. You also seem to forget that we are the ones who are lost, the others could easily have returned to the main part of the mindscape by now and be wondering of has happened to us.”

The visionary character held the level gaze of the other, his worry boiling into exasperation. “If you are so certain that there is nothing wrong with the others, and of our own ordeal, then what do you suggest we do?”

The academic stayed silent, sweeping his eyes around the area one more time before replying, “it is something to consider, but we may be able to solve both of our predicaments at once. From what I have noticed, no matter where we were when we were summoned, we always reappear in the common-room after leaving the real-world. If we were to go there now, not only would we be able to find our way back, but we could also have Thomas summon the other two. That would also allow for him to speak with all of us as he asked, therefore we would be solving that issue as well.”

The solution seemed so obvious now that it had been laid out before him, “what are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

Without another word, they synced out of the mindscape and appeared in their usual places. If Joan and Talyn were still over, they were nowhere to be seen, but the host of the sides jumped up from where he had been sitting on the sofa when he saw them, “Logan, Roman!” He let his eyes flit to the empty spots where the other two would normally reside, “where are Patton and Virgil?”

Princey was quick to respond, wanting to find them as soon as possible, “we don’t actually know…we've been looking for them for at least an hour, but we haven’t been able to track them down.”

“As a matter of fact, that is part of why we are here,” Logic’s words were rattled off at an even quicker pace than usual. He must be more concerned than his creative counterpart had given him credit for, “since we were unsuccessful in our attempts to discover their whereabouts, and they have been gone longer than we expected, we thought the best course of action would be to have you summon them here. If you were to do so, you could speak with them, and it would solve our dilemma with their disappearance.”

The online personality took a moment to decipher the teacher’s rapid speech, his eyes wide. “If you two want me to, I’ll summon them…are you sure we won't be causing an interruption though?”

The whimsical trait attempted to push back the worry that was threatening to blind him, “we’re pretty sure they wouldn’t be interrupted…and since we can't find them, I think it would give us some peace-of-mind to know that they are okay.”

Virgil snickered as he spoke, “pancakes are great…what I don’t understand is Logan’s never-ending obsession with Crofter’s, and putting that on them, and-” He was cut off by the familiar tugging sensation that meant Thomas wanted him in the real-world, and by the looks of it, Patton was being summoned too. Glancing over to the clock above the fireplace, his heart skipped a beat, it was no wonder the others wanted their attention, they had been talking for nearly three hours. Time had passed much faster than either had expected, flying by once they were engaged in genuine conversation. The others were probably worried that they had gotten lost or hurt from being so far into the mindscape, which wasn’t nearly as dangerous as they perceived it to be. Locking eyes for no more than an instant, it was clear that the eldest aspect shared in the understanding of the worry the others must feel. With that they left the dream space to meet with the ones who were already waiting for them.

When they showed up, the youngest facet didn’t miss the looks of relief that Logan and Roman wore, but it was Thomas’s voice that filled the silence. “Patton, Virgil, it’s good to see you…I think some of us were becoming concerned at your disappearance.”

Morality’s words closely followed those of the YouTuber, “we didn’t mean to worry any of you, kiddos. We were just talking and time passed quicker than we’d thought.”

Logic gave Princey a glare that clearly carried the message, I told you so, to which the fanciful attribute gave a mocking look. “Is it so wrong of me to be concerned with the well-being of my friends?”

Even the cold, stiff tone of the second-eldest couldn’t hide the alleviation shining in his eyes, “no, I am merely making an expression conveying that I was correct in thinking that there was never any cause to worry.”

There was a playful manner in how the Prince leaned forward slightly and lifted his head, “oh of course…says the one who was talking at the speed of light before they were summoned.”

Anxiety jumped in before the argument could continue, “other than knowing we are okay, is there a reason we were called?”

Rather than one of the other personifications, it was Thomas who answered his question, “yes. I wanted to check in with all of you and see if things have improved from the last time we all met.” He suddenly took on an aura of shame that confused him, “I just hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.”

The darkly-dressed side shrugged, but he couldn’t keep the laughter from his tone, “if you consider a conversation about pancakes important…then sure. If not, I finished working with Patton over two hours ago.” The trait in question nodded in agreement, giggling at the sarcastic statement.

He let his gaze pass between the two who had been in the real-world longer as their host smiled, “good. I was hoping that was the case-”

The online personality was cut off as Logan turned to face them, “actually the degree of importance of your conversation hinges on what kind of pancakes you were referring to when Thomas summoned you.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smirk, and he knew what the reaction to his reply was going to be before he even said it. “We were just talking about putting Crofter’s on pancakes…nothing too important-”

“FALSEHOOD!” They all started laughing at the outburst of the normally-composed aspect, who apparently noticed the shift in attention as he cleared his throat and regained his professional demeanor. “I mean…it is a meaningful matter, but it’s in the past now. It’s just comforting to know that the two of you are in good health. The question I now have is of your whereabouts; we searched for the better part of an hour, and still couldn’t find you.”

The darkest facet finally stopped laughing, but only just as understanding took over, “We were in my dream space, but I see what happened. You two tried to come looking for us because you were worried…and then you got lost in the mindscape and couldn’t find your own way out, so you came here and asked Thomas to summon us, didn’t you?”

The creative and logical figments shared a dumbfounded glance, but it was the prior who found his voice first. “I don’t know why your…frequently correct…statements and questions still manage to take us by surprise. How did you know that?”

“Logan said that you were looking for us, and to be looking for an hour…you would have had to go further into the mind-palace than either of you are used to. One thing I know well is that those corridors are a labyrinth if you don’t know where you are.” The observant manifestation felt almost prideful at the stunned gazes he received, “also, they aren’t as dangerous as you think they are. They’re just a bit dark because they aren’t used enough to warrant changing the light-bulbs.”

“Well you guys can discuss not-so-scary hallways later,” Thomas let his eyes rest on each of them, “As for now…I can tell that you all are on better terms with one another, but I want to know how today went. I know there was a lot of tension surrounding the events, so I hope they went well.” That was a question that the other sides would have to answer, and their opinions would be completely subjective. A jolt of worry suddenly coursed through Anxiety, he hadn’t expected a report or analysis of his counseling from the other three.

The father figure stepping forward broke him from his thoughts, “I for one am actually feeling better…” He trailed off turning to face their host, “I haven’t had a chance to apologize for what happened earlier…I didn’t mean for anything to happen to you…I’m sorry, son.”

The online personality gave him a saddened smile, “there was no harm done, so don’t let it get to you. You're back now and that’s all that matters.”

The others nodded in agreement at the statement, and thankfully Patton appeared relieved. More than likely, that would be a topic that the negative trait would have to go over with him in the future, but for now he looked comforted by the approval of his family. “Thanks, kiddo…as for the rest of the day, I have to say that Virgil helped me more than I thought I was able to be helped.” He glanced to Roman and Logan, “and I’m sure he did the same for you two.”

The whimsical aspect held himself in less of a rigid poise, “I have to say that I was impressed by the ideas that Virgil came up with for me as well. They were far more fitting to my personality than I’d expected.” He smiled mischievously at the darker persona, “he’s also a surprisingly good singer.”

The anxious facet had been right, he was never going to live that down, but he didn’t have time to formulate a response before Thomas did. “What are you talking about? Did you somehow get Virgil to sing?”

Morality giggled, “Roman didn’t…I did. Virgil actually resorted to singing to get me to come out of my room.”

“I can show you if you want!” The enthusiastic comment made him freeze as his imaginative counterpart reached for his phone.

“I should have guessed you would record me,” even though he grumbled the words, he made no attempt to stop the video from being shown.

As the Prince tapped the screen he spoke once more, his voice maintaining the good-humor he had. “If you outright tell me that I’m not going to let you live something down, I need to get my proof that it happened.” He moved over to their host who was waiting with anticipation, and a moment later the video began. Quiet at first, but he heard the tone of his voice and buried his head in his hands. The fight-or-flight reflex longed to get away from the on-looking eyes as it got to the improvised verses.

The recording cut off just after the eldest slammed into him and Anxiety dared to look up, which he wasn’t sure if he regretted when he saw the compassionate awe in the eyes of the YouTuber. The feeling was only enhanced by the glances that passed between the other three attributes. “I know I’ve heard you sing before, but that was really sweet, Virgil. How did you come up with those lyrics on the spot like that?”

His head was still lowered in embarrassment from the praise Thomas gave; still, he couldn’t ignore such a direct question. “I am named after a poet…but other than that, I was willing to try anything at that point. To be completely honest…I didn’t know I was capable of improv.”

Patton was the next to draw his attention, “well it worked, kiddo, and you did a really good job coming up with that. It certainly meant a lot to me.” The others gave their own forms of agreeance, but it was obvious from his smile that Roman was going to ask him at every turn to join in his karaoke.

Their host was still grinning with a warm gaze before turning to Logan, “so the others seem to be doing well, what about you?”

“I personally found Virgil’s approach to be most helpful. Not only were the techniques he gave useful in almost every situation, but he gave me an array of them as well. The most remarkable inclusion however, was the clever use of location and metaphor. For example, he counseled me in the library, and I know he didn’t do the same for the other two. As for the metaphor, we were nearly done with the conversation before I figured out that the seemingly irrelevant topic of a book was actually insightful to my concerns. That’s not to mention he was able to stop me from panicking.” Logic wore an expression of appreciation as he nodded in the direction of the negative side, who was still reeling from all the compliments. All of them seemed to be pleased with his work, putting the worries he’d felt that morning to rest.

“He helped me out of a panic-attack as well!” The kind trait clapped happily while giving his input.

The YouTuber beamed like a proud parent, “if all is well then-”

“Wait,” all of them stopped, facing Princey after he cut Thomas off, “what about you, Virgil? Please don’t take this the wrong way…but you are the embodiment of anxiety, how do we know that you don’t need the same help that we do?”

Even in knowing that the others had read his notes, which held a list of his own fears; he was taken aback by the question. The observant facet hadn’t expected them to bring up his own worries, especially not with them being overshadowed by those of the others. Still, Roman had managed to do so, and in a shockingly tactful way.

The look in the eyes of his visionary companion wasn’t lost on the darkly-dressed emotion, he was afraid that he had come across as offensive, when in reality he was sort of touched by the gesture. “I appreciate the concern, Sir Sing-A-Lot, but going over all the ways to help you guys may have been just as helpful to me.” The confusion that blanketed the others spurred him to continue, “I may be able to take some of my own advice. I actually didn’t realize it until I was working with all of you, that many of the tactics I taught might just be useful in my case as well. I can pick up a book and read or watch a musical to calm my nerves, use grounding techniques more regularly, or even try something as simple as talking with you guys.”

The four sides looked around at one another fondly; a sense of familial bonding having been strengthened from the whole situation, and it was only enforced by the contribution of their host. “I’m glad to see that you all are doing better today…but I have to say that it means a lot to me to know that all of you are learning to listen to each other more, and help one another through tough times like this.”

It had been nearly a month since the ordeal with the sleep-walking had occurred, the Prince was no longer injured, and Virgil had kept his promise to start having movie nights with him. They had even begun inviting the others to join them, which ended up making the experience even more enjoyable. Most importantly however, was the progress that they had all made in the time since that dreadful night. To say that they were all happier and more productive was a major understatement at best.

Patton had been the one in need of the most assistance; even still, it had only taken him a few days to get to the point where he could be left alone for short periods of time, and those had lengthened as he worked more and more with his fears. Now, he still asked for their reassurances frequently, but overall he was much more comfortable in knowing that the others would always be there for him. That being said, Anxiety had noticed him fidgeting with the bracelets he’d given the paternal trait when he was nervous or when he came to ask for help. He thankfully hadn’t been plagued with another panic-attack, but the two were still working together every few days.

Logan had been the next in line with the severity of his fears, but just like with his moral counterpart, he’d improved significantly. Even when he wasn’t working, the youngest aspect had noticed him using the breathing and grounding tactics regularly. The academic had come to the realization after a few more sessions of counseling, that he wasn’t neglecting his responsibilities at all; in fact he was going above and beyond what he needed to do. Part of the issues he was experiencing were actually stemming from being overworked and lack of sleep. The intellectual also found while he was working on that, nearly every mistake he made was resolved so swiftly that the others were almost never aware that they had even occurred. The discovery didn’t make him prideful, but it did boost his confidence and self-esteem.

Roman had been further ahead than the other two in his concerns, but he had work that still needed to be done. He had come to terms with just how much the others needed him however, and that most of the opinions they had of him were positive. Those that weren’t were discussed in private, and a compromise would be found with hardly a disturbance at all. If anything, he still needed the occasional reminder about how common imperfections were, and that it was okay for the creative facet to have them. Other than that though, he was doing well in conquering his phobias, and had reached a point of maturity in which he didn’t feel defeated when he had to ask the gloomier figment for advice.

As for Virgil, his continued counseling of the others had helped him to come to terms with many of his own issues. Joining his colleagues in their activities such as Princey’s movie nights, Logic’s studies, and Morality’s baking had further proven that he was necessary. It had also succeeded in getting him out of his room more, and showing him that his mere presence didn’t cause others to miss opportunities. The darker character couldn’t help the feeling of warmth he had from watching the others improve over time, which in turn helped his own worries even more.

The problems surrounding the sleep-walking were all but gone now, and no one else had gotten hurt. The other sides had even taken to making him to get more sleep during the day, and watched over him during that time to make sure that his own somnambulism didn’t result in injury. Every now and again, one of them would stir in the night, and the fight-or-flight reflex would simply join them in the corridor, gently coaxing the sleeping figure back to their bed.

With everyone facing their fears instead of suppressing them, there was a new sense of peace that filled the mindscape. A feeling that all of them could partake in, and despite their clear improvements and the joy he found in them, Virgil knew that there would never come a day when he or any of the others wouldn’t be needed.

—–

TAG LIST:

@a-snoway-afternoon

@jay-wants-to-be-a-paladin

@julia6181

@lovelyyoonglebear

@lucifer-in-my-head

@opalwings915

@wewillsurvivethistoo

@the-psycho-pie

@unikornavenger

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO DO TAG LISTS FOR OTHER STORIES!

—–

Links for Tumblr

Part 1:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173343639844/sleep-walking-part-1-of-8

Part 2:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173455778169/sleep-walking-2-of-8

Part 3:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173456061404/sleep-walking-3-of-8

Part 4:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173519794834/sleep-walking-4-of-8

Part 5:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173591178399/sleep-walking-5-of-8

Part 6:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173644540469/sleep-walking-6-of-8

Part 7:

https://virgil-the-dark-strange-son.tumblr.com/post/173719462339/sleep-walking-7-of-8

11 notes · View notes

mimis-mm · 7 years ago

Note

Hi, this is the one who asked for barista MC. OH MY GOD!! HOW DID YOU KNOW I AM CLUMSY😂😂😂😂. Im so in love with this. Now Im gonna let my imagination run wilder. What could happen for their first date😍😍😍😍😂😂😂. Thank you😘😘😘😘

lmao I’m actually watching you all day long who wouldn’t be a clumsy mess when Zen is complimenting them? So here goes your date with him, with of course a little something more to it.

Valentine’s Day special

A.K.A. Zen with a barista MC too shy to ask him out part 2

part 1 here: x

Word count: 2 741 words

FYI: Valentine’s Day in Korea is celebrated mainly with the girls giving chocolates to boys/men they like platonically and handmade or higher quality bought to those they love. It’s the 14th March, during White Day, that boys do the same.

Warning: It gets slightly NSFW at the end, but nothing too lewd.

“[Y/N], it’s time for your date with Mister Handsome. ~” you hear your supervisor say while they pat on your shoulder.

Your cheeks take a pinkish color and you glance at the clock.

“Wait, there’s still ten minutes to my shift.”

“I’ll cover you, girl.” They smile at you with a wink. “Besides, I don’t think you want to go to your first date with him, and on Valentine’s Day at that, while looking like that.”

She does a motion toward their hair and face with their hand, and it doesn’t take much IQ to know that they mean you look like shit. Well, considering the fact that you’re about to go out with someone who would put Apollo to shame. But… did they just say…

“It’s Valentine’s Day!?” You jump and almost smudge the pink heart you’re creating for the couple waiting their coffee.

Today is not the 13th? You were sure this morning that it was. Gosh, good thing you have the same shift for both days.

Your superior laughs.

“Yes, it is. Now go.” They take the cup and shoo you away.

You thank them and go to the employees’ changing room and open your locker. You’re greeted by a pair of black leggings and a deep red hoodie. Oh crap. You were in a hurry this morning and you just picked what fell in your hands. At least you get a point for being on point with the color scheme, right? You change from your uniform to your civil clothing and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t look that bad, but your hair could use a little brushing and maybe some makeup wouldn’t hurt. So, you take care of that and after a few minutes, you put on your coat, take your bag and you’re ready to go.

You step outside of the employees’ room and your eyes are locked on the man sitting at one of the tables. His large back is facing you and he is hunched over the table, probably fidgeting with his phone. All you can see is his leather jacket, which enhances his imposing frame, and his short white hair. You walk towards him, then lightly tap on his firm shoulder. He looks at you and flashes you a bright smile with white teeth.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks as he stands up.

You shake your head up and down quickly, too captivated by his beauty to be able to form a single word. He chuckles and reaches his hand out to you with his palm upward. Your reaction is to put your own hand on top, and you almost let out a whimper when Zen kisses the back of it without breaking eye contact with you. You can feel your entire face burning up and turning the same color of his crimson eyes.

“Then, let’s get going, shall we?” He winks playfully at you.

“Yes,” you finally stutter after a few seconds.

He exits the café with you, holding your hand in his. It does feels funny, but not in a bad way. Maybe it’s because you’ve known each other for almost two months but never did hang out together, or maybe it’s just the blast of holding hands with a handsome man that you barely know anything about. Either way, it just feels right.

“So, where are we going?” You ask as you look up at him.

“In a restaurant not far from here that I like to go from time to time. You must be hungry, right?“

Heck yeah. You could eat a whole fucking horse.

“Yes, thank you for your consideration,” you reply sweetly. Now is not the time to creep him out.

You two continue walking in a comfortable silence. A few couples are roaming the streets hand in hand, some even have matching scarves to fight against the cold winter wind. At the sight of them, your heart aches to the idea of doing the same with Zen. However, you can’t deny being confused on whether he would be willing to comply with it. After all, his style of clothing is screaming bad boy, but the moment he opens his mouth, he transforms into Prince Charming. So, who knows.

Your date stops, then enters in a fancy restaurant that claims to serve fine cuisine with the possibility to eat outside during the right season. You actually remember your colleagues talking about wanting to go eat there when they’ll have the time for. Hah, you’ll be able to tease them during your next shift.

“Thanks.” You whisper to Zen who is holding the door for you.

The interior is more spacious than you imagined, with even some banquets in the back. The place is obviously decorated with a few Valentine’s themed decorations, such as cardboard hearts hanging from the ceiling, bouquets of roses are scattered around on the different surfaces and a romantic music is playing in the background. A waitress comes to great you and Zen answers that he made a reservation an hour ago to the name of Hyun Ryu. She smiles politely at him and brings you to the back of the room, where she leaves two menus. Both you and Zen sit down and you hesitantly take off your coat, while he casually does it, revealing at the same time a rAT TAIL?

You guess that you must have a strange expression, because he looks at you with worry in his eyes. He finally breaks the awkward silence:

“Is there something wrong?”

“N-no!” Shoot. You may have said it a little too loudly. “It’s just… I didn’t know you had long hair?”

He blinks once, then looks down, only to jump at the sight of his own perfect white hair.

“Oh, I always protect them from the cold. It breaks the point, you see.” He chuckles while playing with a strand of it. He looks back at you. “You don’t seem to like it.”

Ack!

“that’s not it! I’m just surprised, that’s all.” You make big gestures with your hands at the same time of trying to save the day. “It’s just, you know, damn.”

There’s a moment of silence, then he burst out laughing and tries to hide it by placing a hand on his mouth. He finally gets to articulate something between two laughers:

“I’m so sorry, but you’re just too cute. No one ever complimented my hair with a simple ‘damn’.”

You want to hide so badly. Not only because he thinks you’re cute, but also because you only said the truth partially and don’t want him to know what you actually think about his hair. That you just found out that long hair for a man is quite a turn on for you.

Or maybe just for him?

Ugh. It doesn’t matter now, you probably won’t end the date in a bed. So no need to get ahead of yourselfor give yourself some weird scenarios.

You both order your dish, wait and then eat while talking about this and that, as a result, gives an answer to one of the biggest mystery of the café. The reason Zen only orders that famous organic honey and lemon tea of his is because it’s supposedly pretty good for the voice and he happens to be a musical actor. He is trying really hard to know more about you, which flatters you greatly. It’s not every day a handsome musical actor is excessively interested in you, a totally normal person.

The waitress comes back and inquires on if you’re ready to pay, and how the bills are separated. You quickly answer, knowing that your date would want to pay for you.

“I’ll pay for both.”

Zen looks at you with a semi shocked expression, not knowing how to react. It takes a few seconds for him to come back to his sense.

“Are you sure? I’m the one who invited you.”

“And I’m the one who accepted to come. Also, it’s Valentine’s Day and I didn’t bought any chocolate for you, so let me make up for it, please.”

He sighs, but soon nods with a smile.

“Alright, if you put it that way.”

The woman takes off, coming back not even two minutes later with the bill. Well two bills. She gives one to Zen and explains that it’s for him to know how much it costs. You find it strange but didn’t think much of it since you’re composing your nip. You then give back the paying device, but notice Zen handing his paper back with a frown on his face.

“I won’t need it, thank you.” He says, his voice slightly dry.

She seems surprised, but still takes it back with a smile that, somehow, doesn’t reach the eyes. You glance at Zen and raise an inquisitive eyebrow, to which he only responds with a quick smile, chasing away the rudeness he had a few seconds ago on his face. You decide to brush it off and put on your coat instead. He quickly follows your lead, then you both go outside.

The temperature has gone up during the time you were inside. The snow has begun to melt a bit and some people even dare to unzip their coat.

“What do you want to do, princess?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname, but you’re trying to not let yourself get overwhelmed by your emotions. Is he trying to fluster you, or what? If that’s the case, then you won’t let yourself be without fighting back, so you smirk back and wrap your arms arounds his. You whisper with batting eyes:

“Hmm… We can just walk like this.”

You’re surprised to see his cheeks flaring up. He quickly looks away with a hand on his mouth, as if he wants to hides his embarrassment. Good, now he’s tasting his own medicine.

“If you want to,” he says.

His voice, huskier than usual, gives a sudden warm feeling in your lower abdomen.

Oh boi, you know this sensation. Maybe going there isn’t the best idea to keep this date in the romantic mood, and not something entirely different.

You clear your throat and gently pull him by the hand, to which he complies without any protest. The streets are now more filled, making it a bit difficult to walking around freely. However, people get out of the way when they look up to you. Or, to be precise, they’re looking at Zen behind you.

You both come across a public park that is almost empty, with the exception of a few small children along with their parents. You decide to continue your way through it, still holding Zen’s hand in yours. The place is filled with trees undressed of their leaves, swinging leisurely at the rhythm of the wind. You breathe deeply, taking the fresh and cold scent of this winter day in to relax. The only sounds you can hear are the laughers of the children, the birds singing and both of your footsteps on the snow. Your fingers entwine with his all on their own, squeezing his hand at the same time, to which he responds by doing the same.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he whispers with a chuckle. “I wish I was as comfortable as you are.”

“Why are you saying that?” You ask as you look up to him.

His cheeks are still pink, but at this point, you’re not even sure if the cold is behind it or something else. He smiles, trying to brush off the tense feeling he has since the moment you curled up against him.

“Nothing, I just… haven’t had a girlfriend for more than five years. So, I’m quite nervous right now.” He pauses, then looks at you. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“No, it’s not weird! I’m just surprised that someone so… perfect like you has been single for so long.” You whisper the last part, suddenly feeling all shy to compliment him.

He laughs bashfully before looking at you with a tender gaze. However, you catch a glint of slyness in it.

“Well, I’m more than happy that I made you mess up your coffee that time.”

He winks playfully at you while you groan in embarrassment. Why must he make you remember that? Gosh, you were doing a great job at forgetting that it ever happened. You shake your head and stick your tongue at him, only to make him laugh.

You both continue your way, talking about some juicy news circulating around your job since you don’t really know what to talk about, but still want to hear his voice. At your surprise, he’s a real sucker for gossips and knowing people’s life. You go back to the busy streets and even enter in a few stores, joking with Zen about all the Valentine’s Day merchandises. He sometimes makes a few remarks about wanting to buy matching tops, which he ends up doing. To pay back the restaurant, he says. But you saw his eyes light up at the sight of the sweaters.

When you step outside of a store, your belly is making dying whale noises, so you look up at the sky, seeing that the sun is setting down. Zen suggests to walk you home and you accept after thinking about it for a moment. You pull his by the hand, leading the way to your place. You two arrive at destination, then enter the building.

You stop in front of your apartment door, then turn to face him. He stares at you, his ruby colored eyes staring at you in an intense manner, as if nothing else was present beside the two of you. The air is getting more and more heavy, with a tint of sultry in it. You gulp down, trying to make your throat less dry before you could speak in a coherent manner:

“Thank you for this date, Zen. It really was the best day I had in a while.”

He blushes lightly with his lips twitching as if he’s trying to control something he wants to tell so badly it’s making him lose his composure. He looks away for a second, then return his attention on you.

“Then, can I ask you something selfish?” He finally says in a low voice. “You can refuse if you’re not feeling at ease, though.”

You nod without breaking eye contact with him, but you can feel your inside going crazy, half-knowing what he’s about to request. He continues:

“Can I kiss you? I won’t try anything funny, I swear.”

The same warm, clenching feeling you had earlier takes your stomach by surprise, not to mention your entire face burning up. You’re such a mess that you’re barely able to shake your head up and down. Zen gently cups you face in his hands, then he leans slowly on you, making you shut your eyes in anticipation. Soon enough, you feel his soft lips on yours. An electric sensation runs through your entire body, and you can’t help but to surrender at the urge to pull him closer. He breaks contact, but quickly catches your lower lip in his own lips, sucking and nibbling on it while one of his hands caresses your shoulder. The overwhelming sensations draw a low and sensual moan out of you, making him groans. He rapidly pulls away, fleeing your gaze.

“Sorry, babe.” Your thighs squeeze at his hoarse voice and the pet name. “I don’t want you to think I only went on this date just to bed you.”

He clears his throat, puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and risks a glance in your direction.

“It’s ok, I understand.”

There’s an awkward silence, so you decide to say the goodbyes first.

“So, I guess we’ll see each other tomorrow then.”

“Yes, have a great evening.”

You wave him goodbye then enters your apartment, closing the door behind you and leaning on it since you’re still a bit dizzy from the kiss. You touch your lips, still feeling his kiss on them, longing Zen’s presence already. There’s something inside of you that wants to call him back and bring his ass over here to finish from where you left off, but your rational side is screaming to take your time.

Is this how it’s like to be sexually frustrated?

#silver94 #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger imagines #zen ryu #hyun ryu #mysme scenarios

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

Text

Higehiro – 03 – Fated Encounters

Sayu has a dream about a past night she spent with a man in exchange for a place to stay. She lies under him passively, her eyes devoid of their usual glimmer, making no noise except to say “yeah” when he asks if it feels good. It’s not a love scene; it’s a transaction scene, depicted in all its awkward frankness. Sayu wakes up in her own bed as Yoshida dozes away in his. The glimmer is back in her eyes, but there’s also worry.

When Yoshida heads off to work, all Sayu has are household chores and her thoughts. And her thoughts are constantly asking why Yoshida won’t touch her. Shouldn’t he want to, at least a little? All the other men did, and took what they could. We learn Yoshida turned down a business trip, and his male co-worker assumes it’s because he has a girlfriend.

That prospect upsets Mishima, who asks him out to a movie after work. On the way out he and Gotou nearly walk into each other. Seeing him leave with Mishima, Gotou wears a look of frustration; dissatisfaction.

Long before Yoshida returns home, Sayu is simply out of things to do around the house, so she has nothing but those lingering, worrying thoughts about her. Even though Yoshida hasn’t touched her like the other men”, she still believes he’ll kick her out when he doesn’t want her anymore.

When he texts her that he’s going out for a movie with a colleague, Sayu decides to stalk him…”just a little.” She happens to spot them just as Mishima finished talking to Yoshida about fated encounters, both the ones in the sad movie and ones in reality. Mishima is certain it’s better to realize that it’s fate the moment it happens.

While Yoshida isn’t 100% following her (because he considers her a co-worker and friend first), Mishima thinks she’s having such an encounter with him now, and doesn’t want to let it go. He’s taken aback when she hugs him, but the hug is all Sayu sees when she rushes off. She doesn’t see Yoshida rebuff her…not that Mishima is going to give up on him anytime soon.

When Yoshida comes home to find Sayu’s phone but no Sayu, his first worry is that she was kidnapped, not that she ran away because she saw him with Mishima and got jealous.

Even though I knew her running away would be a distinct possibility, I was still hugely relieved to see she didn’t go far—just to a nearby park to think. Heavy on her thoughts is how Yoshida looked when Mishima hugged him, how different it was from how he is with her, and how it made her jealous, but also reinforces her worry that once a guy as kind as him finds a girlfriend, she’ll be abandoned.

But this episode deals with three fated encounters: Yoshida and Sayu, Yoshida and Mishima…and Sayu and Mishima, since she happens to find Sayu looking forlorn before Yoshida does. She sits with her so she can think without being bothered by a cop, and asks what’s troubling her.

Here, we learn that Sayu’s parents weren’t horrible at all, at least according to her. On the contrary, they were “unbelievably nice”—and we have no reason not to believe her. It’s just that Sayu simply doesn’t believe in “unconditional kindness”, even if that’s what most parents are supposed to provide. With her mindset, you could say they were smothering her with that kindness.

When Sayu mentions something she can’t tell someone or they might abandon her, Mishima tells her that fear can freeze you in place, but can also spur forward action, and in her book, the latter way is the better one. From what she’s heard, Mishima thinks whoever this is believes in Sayu, so she should believe in them and say This is who I am! This is part of me! Will you stay with me anyway?

Of course, Mishima is speaking from her experiences with Yoshida, who just happens to be the same person Sayu is talking about. Mishima learns this when Yoshida arrives at the park. And from the way he treats Sayu—like a worried-sick guardian would treat his lost kid—it’s clear Sayu and Yoshida have some “family stuff” to discuss, so she takes her leave, but insists that Yoshida explain himself later.

I love how low-key and empathetic Mishima’s reaction is to learning the uncommonly kind and caring Yoshida is looking after a teenage runaway. She knows she doesn’t have the whole story, and while she very much wants to hear it, it’s not the time or place, so she’ll wait until it is. She doesn’t jump to conclusions or express premature outrage.

When Yoshida and Sayu comes home, Sayu takes Mishima’s advice, stops standing in place, and steps forward…in her black underwear…towards Yoshida. She refuses to dress before they talk. She again mentions how her breast are big for someone in high school. She presses against Yoshida, and asks if he wants to have sex her, just as all the other men wanted to.

When pressed (literally) by Sayu, Yoshida admits that of course he finds her extremely cute physically. Sayu is flattered by his praise, and explains that this is the way she decided on to be able to live without going back home. She knows there are disadvantages to an adult having a teenage girl around, and so thought there must be some kind of advantage way to make up for that.

At first, she hated using her body to make up for it. But while she was doing it with someone she felt she could be herself, that she was needed. The advantage she provided to the other men made her feel fulfilled. Maybe in her dream, when she said that yeah, it felt good, she wasn’t lying; it felt good emotionally for there to be a give-and-take. It felt balanced. But ultimately the disadvantages would win out, and she’d get kicked out.

However many times this happened to Sayu, she’s now of the mind that her crushing uneasiness about the imbalance in their relationship won’t be quelled unless Yoshida sleeps with her. So she asks once more, if it won’t upset him, if he’ll do so. Yoshida gathers Sayu into a solid but thoroughly platonic hug making it clear that sleeping with someone he’s not in love with would upset her, so the answer is no.

Once she’s dressed again and they’re seated at the table, Yoshida calmly rejects Sayu’s assertion that she hasn’t done anything for him in return to justify keeping her around. Again, he tries to reorient her belief that only sex can pay for the roof under her head and make up for the cons of having her there. He admits he’s changed since she came.

He takes better care of himself. They eat and talk about nothing special. His apartment feels like a real home with her there, and a place he wants to hurry back to after work. Just having her there has made his life more fun and more rewarding. She doesn’t have to do or say anything special to maintain that atmosphere; she just has to be there. That’s it. Saying this moves Sayu to tears.

Yoshida realizes that he wasn’t doing himself or Sayu any favors by thinking he could change her back into a “normal teenage girl”, and that there was nothing more to it than that. Denying her burgeoning adulthood and her sexuality only heightened her anxiety about properly paying him back for his kindness.

Acknowledging the role of sex in Sayu’s life to that point was a crucial step in acknowledging Sayu herself, just as making it clear that sex with her is neither wanted nor required establishes firm boundaries, and sets him apart from all the other men.

Thanks to Mishima, Sayu was able to break the stalemate of unspoken tension, and was able to learn from Yoshida not only why he didn’t want to sleep with her, but why just being there was enough for him. Now that they’ve bared their hearts and cleared the air, they can begin truly living together. It’s an honest, beautiful, and heartwarming catharsis between two lonely souls who claim to be pathetic, but are actually inspiring!

By: sesameacrylic

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

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inspectorboxer · 8 years ago

Text

What Could Have Been

by Inspector Boxer

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairings: Alex Danvers/Lucy Lane, Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: This is a prompt fill for @loumauve who wanted prompt #16, "You have no idea, do you?" Hope you don't mind some Lucy angst...

Thanks as always to zennie for the beta!

****

There was nothing quite like being hugged by a Kryptonian.

Lucy grinned, savoring the heat and strength of the arms around her as Kara gave her a little squeeze and released her. “You’re looking good, Ms. Junior Reporter.”

“Why thank you, Major Lane,” Kara answered readily, equally and playfully formal. They both grinned and settled on their respective sides of their favorite booth at Noonan’s.

The waitress arrived and took their orders, both so familiar with the menu they didn’t have to look it over. When she left, Lucy leaned in, eager to catch up.

“So what is up with you? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.” Lucy took a sip of her water as rain pattered gently on the windows behind them.

Kara sighed. “Where do I even start?”

“Having that much fun lately, huh?”

Shaking her head, Kara absently twirled her water glass. “I’ve just never done well with change, and it feels like every day there is a more of it. Like Cat set off some sort of chain reaction when she left.” She offered Lucy a faint smile. “It really is good to see you. We’ve missed you around the DEO.”

“I’ve missed you, too. This is the rare business trip I jumped on with both feet.”

“How’s Washington?”

“Bureaucratic.” Lucy chuckled. “But that’s what I’m good at.”

“Well, J’onn told me to tell you to come back anytime. You’re always welcome.”

“Thanks. We’ll see if he still feels that way after the review.”

Kara grinned.

“So how is Alex?” Lucy asked, hoping she sounded casual. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors.”

Lucy’s interest in Kara’s sister had never been strictly platonic. Alex had a different kind of strength than her super-powered sibling that Lucy had always been secretly attracted to. Once or twice, she suspected Alex might have felt the same pull toward her, but nothing had ever come of it. It was a shame, really. Lucy was sure they would have been blisteringly hot together.

Kara straightened, some of her humor vanishing. “That’s… not really my place to tell.”

“Oh come on, Kara. She’s your sister. She starts seeing someone and nobody tells me? I’m offended.” Lucy smiled, propping her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. “Spill.”

“It’s still early in the relationship. They’re not really public yet. Alex is still adjusting to her new normal, you know?”

“That’s not what I heard,” Lucy drawled. “Although I must admit, I never would have pictured the two of them together.”

Kara’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You know Maggie?”

“Maggie who?” Lucy asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Kara frowned as she took a sip of her water.

“Winn. Who else would I be talking about?”

Nearly spraying water all over the table, Kara actually coughed as it went down the wrong way, her eyes watering.

Lucy stared at her blankly. “Wait. That’s not who Alex is dating? Everyone I’ve spoken to says she’s constantly messing with him.”

“Because he’s Winn,” Kara answered in disbelief. “He’s like a little brother to Alex.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Lucy blinked, replaying their conversation in her head, her stomach plunging slightly. “You said Maggie. Who is Maggie? Is Alex dating… Is Alex dating a woman?” she whispered the last word in disbelief.

Kara shook her head. “No. I’ve already said too much.”

“I’ve got a name now, Kara. Don’t think I won’t use every tactic I learned in law school to suss out who we’re talking about.”

Sighing, Kara rolled her eyes. “Her name is Maggie Sawyer. She’s a detective with the science division of the NCPD.”

“She,” Lucy enunciated.

“Yes. And I will likely never know how happy they’re going to be together because Alex is going to kill me when she finds out I told you.”

Lucy gave the younger woman a look, trying to keep her features neutral about the news. “I… I had no idea Alex was gay.”

“Neither did she until she met Maggie,” Kara admitted coughing again and wiping at her eyes.

Lucy felt simultaneously crushed and oddly hopeful. “You have a picture?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the woman who had turned Alex’s head, but curiosity got the better of her.

Kara fished her phone out of her purse, bringing up her photos and sorting through them for a moment until she found the one she was looking for and handed it over. “Alex has no idea I took that.”

Lucy accepted the phone, her eyebrows elevating in appreciation when she saw the object of Alex Danvers’ affection. She whistled low. “Your sister has good taste. And apparently serious game.”

“Alex has no game where Maggie is concerned. And no chill either for that matter.” Kara smiled, her gaze affectionate.

Lucy stared at the pair. They looked disgustingly cute and happy. Alex had her head on Maggie’s shoulder as they sat on Kara’s couch watching television. Lucy wasn’t sure if Alex was asleep or merely resting in the photo, but there was something about her posture, something soft in the way she molded against her girlfriend where Alex was usually stiff and uptight. Maggie was grinning knowingly at Kara as she took the picture, her dark eyes sparkling. She was gorgeous.

Damn her.

“I’m coming by tomorrow. I have to see this for myself,” Lucy announced, deciding she was a glutton for punishment. If Alex and Maggie were just as adorable in person, she might not be able to stand it.

“Lucy…”

“Come on, Kara. You’re telling me your sister, who was as cool as a cucumber under interrogation when her very existence hinged on the outcome, is going gaga for a girl. There is no way in hell I am going to miss out on seeing this for myself.”

“You’re truly going to get me killed,” Kara told her.

“I’ll say nice things at your funeral.”

****

Feeling jealous and petty, Lucy stepped into the DEO. It had been months since she’d last seen Alex. She had no idea why the news the agent had a girlfriend was bothering her so damn much, but Lucy could barely sleep, obsessing over the fact. Tossing and turning most of the night, she’d finally climbed out of bed, dressed in her uniform, and walked the few blocks to the facility. According to Kara, Maggie had a habit of bringing coffee to Alex at work on her way to the precinct. Lucy was starting to kind of hate the woman, and she hadn’t even met her yet.

“Hold the elevator?”

Lucy pushed the button, hesitating in surprise as one of the women on her mind rushed in beside her. Maggie gave her a grin, and Lucy wanted to scowl when she got a glimpse of the most devastating pair of dimples she’d ever seen. No wonder Danvers had gotten all infatuated. Lucy suspected enough time in Maggie’s company might have the same effect on her.

The doors shut and silence descended on them as the elevator rose. Lucy breathed in the scent of coffee and pastries and a hint of pleasant perfume, casting a sidelong glance at the other woman. “So you’re Maggie, huh?”

Maggie looked at her in surprise, her keen eyes sweeping curiously over Lucy’s uniform. “That’d be me. Have we met?”

“Major Lucy Lane. I’m the DEO’s liaison in Washington.” Because she was an adult, Lucy held out her hand, and Maggie shook it, her grip warm and firm. Lucy tried not to imagine that same hand touching Alex’s body.

“Nice to meet you, Major. I’ve heard Kara and Alex mention you several times.” The doors parted, and Maggie stepped out, holding them open for Lucy.

Lucy smiled a little more genuinely, pleased to know even if she was gone, she hadn’t been forgotten. “I’ve heard a little bit about you as well.” They walked side by side toward the command center.

Maggie’s eyebrows elevated slightly. Lucy really, really wanted to hate her, but all her research the night before told her the woman was a hell of a cop and possibly a hell of a catch.

“Uh… yeah. Alex and I…”

Lucy managed a faint grin as she stopped walking, turning to face Maggie, and Maggie did the same. “Some of my colleagues at the desert bunker will be heartbroken to hear Alex is off the market. You landed quite the prize.”

“Alex is… special,” Maggie admitted after a moment. “Not sure why she picked me,” she murmured, “but… I’m glad she did.”

Swallowing, Lucy hoped her poker face wasn’t betraying the unsettled emotions roiling beneath the surface. Maggie’s soft, smitten smile, the way she glowed talking about Alex… Lucy wondered if that would have been her had she taken a chance.

“Please tell me there is a quad shot in there.” Alex’s voice rolled over them, and Maggie turned to meet her. “We were chasing that Aldorian all night and I’m about to drop.” She ducked her head and kissed Maggie, the contact lingering. Lucy had to look away.

“Of course.” Maggie handed Alex her cup and a small bag. “And crullers. Keep them away from Kara.”

“She’s at work, thank God.” Alex glanced at Lucy then and did a double take. “Lucy?”

“Hey, Alex,” Lucy greeted with a weak smile. This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. Alex looked amazing, and regret settled like a thick and heavy blanket over Lucy’s shoulders.

Alex stepped forward, giving her a one-armed hug. She smelled as good as Lucy remembered, her body firm and warm. Lucy wasn’t sure if the contact was a reward for braving this moment or punishment.

“Like the hair,” Lucy managed as they stepped back, and Alex blushed. She always had at Lucy’s compliments. It was nice to see that hadn’t changed.

“Thanks. What brings you by?”

“Quarterly review. I head out to the desert in thirty. My hotel was close so I thought I’d pop in and say hello. Had the pleasure of running into your girlfriend in the elevator.”

Alex straightened slightly, glancing back at Maggie. “Oh. Right. You… This…” She gestured between her and Maggie, looking apologetic. “We’re…”

Maggie snorted out a laugh as Alex fumbled for the right term.

“You can’t be an idiot and get to the rank of major, babe.” Maggie hooked her fingers on Alex’s belt buckle and tugged her closer. “Enjoy the sugar and caffeine rush, nerd. I’ll see you tonight.” She kissed Alex gently. “I’m running late. I’ve got a briefing in ten.”

Smiling, Alex kissed her quickly again. “Text me when you can.”

Maggie dipped her head in a wordless promise. “It was nice to meet you, Major Lane.”

“Likewise.” Lucy watched her go, hating to admit the other woman looked hot in her jeans and leather jacket. Maggie had a swagger to her walk that was hard to look away from. Once the detective stepped into the elevator and waved goodbye at them as the doors closed, Lucy turned to face Alex again.

“Kara told you,” Alex muttered, taking an eager sip of her coffee.

“Accidentally. Don’t kill her. Pretty sure the paperwork would kill me.”

Alex grinned, looking more relaxed than Lucy had ever seen her. “So, how are you?” She sounded genuinely interested.

“I’m good,” Lucy admitted. “You look… you look happy, Alex.”

Swallowing, Alex ducked her head. “Yeah. I… I’ve figured myself out a little… a lot, actually. I… finally get me, if that makes any sense.”

“It does. I was in your shoes not so long ago.”

Alex frowned in confusion.

“I’m bisexual.”

Alex stared at her, and Lucy’s stomach quivered nervously.

“I… had no idea,” Alex said softly, her features contemplative.

“Well, it’s not like I walk around carrying a pride flag and shouting it to the rooftops.” Lucy gave her a smile. “Wish I’d known you swung that way.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot upward.

“So that I could have been there for you,” Lucy added quickly, wincing a little at her slip. “I told your girlfriend that she’d broken a bunch of hearts at the desert facility.”

“Pfft.” Alex laughed that off. “Who? No one… there wasn’t… I would have noticed…”

Lucy shook her head. “You’re clueless, Alex.” She couldn’t help but grin as Alex continued to be flustered, but the taller woman was looking at her a little differently now. Lucy didn’t quite know what to make of her expression.

“Name one,” Alex challenged.

“Vasquez.”

“Vasquez was crushing on you.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Lucy admitted, having enjoyed a round or two of flirting with the other agent. “But she sure liked watching you coming or going.”

Alex flushed, and Lucy fought a smile.

“Dr. Hamilton often commented on how sexy you looked in that thigh holster.” Lucy playfully tapped the butt of Alex’s gun. “Jordan in security often lamented that she’d give up a week’s pay for one night with you. She was pretty certain of her abilities to turn you, for what it’s worth, although apparently no ‘turning’ was required.”

By now, Alex was flaming red, but she was staring at Lucy curiously. She took a step closer, and Lucy’s breath caught.

“And what about you, Major?” Alex teased, but there was a tone to her voice Lucy couldn’t identify. “You apparently were in some of these discussions.”

Lucy prepared a deflection, to brush the whole thing off, but Alex looked like she needed the truth, and Lucy suddenly found she no longer wanted to carry the secret. There was no point in hiding it anymore. “You have no idea, do you?” she asked softly.

Alex frowned, confused. “About what?”

Staring at her, Lucy ached for all they could have been if she had dared to take a chance on what had been growing between them. That chance was gone now, having slipped through Lucy’s fingers because she’d never thought to hold tight to it.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Lucy stepped closer, leaning up on tiptoe and kissing Alex softly on the cheek, as close to the corner of her lips as she dared. “I’m happy for you,” she breathed before stepping back.

Alex’s eyes searched her face, her gaze abruptly gentling when she realized what Lucy meant. Her mouth opened but no words escaped.

“It’s okay,” Lucy promised her. She swallowed. “I should go. I’m going to be late.” They stared at each other for a charged moment. “See you around, Agent Danvers.”

“Lucy,” Alex breathed, clearly affected by the revelation, and Lucy sternly warned herself not to feel hope. Alex was happy. That’s all that mattered.

“I should go,” Lucy said again with a trembling smile. “Goodbye, Alex.” She pivoted on her heel and walked away, a tear for what could have been sliding unchecked down her cheek.

#the directorship #sanvers #alex x lucy #alex x maggie #supergirl fic #prompt fill #alex danvers #lucy lane #maggie sawyer #have a little friday angst

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