#what annoys me is when someone has a sort of haughty attitude about it. like how dare this therapist insuiate my depression symptoms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

Endless

Characters: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 7.4K

Synopsis: You aren’t the chosen one. You’re not gifted with any special powers, or secret abilities. You’re just a plucky orphan who decided you’d come along for the ride.

Bringing down an empire is no biggie, right?

Yoongi x reader

Notes: I actually really don’t like this fic, in all honesty. It’s definitely one of my weaker ones, but since I put a lot of effort into writing it, I thought I’d post it anyway! I’m having a real big writer’s block and everything I write just feels.... jilted and inauthentic. IDK. I feel like I’ve lost my ability to tap into what a character feels T.T ANYWAY even if I don’t like it, maybe you will! So please try and enjoy

This is written for @thebtswritersclub March prompt, “Adventure”!

Warnings: Poss some fantasy type violence? Sparring, Yoongi is a little mean sometimes but he has RESPONSIBILITIES! Lots of conversations from very not-socially-distanced positions. Mentions of wars and evil empire

Genre: Fantasy, angst-with-a-happy-ish-ending

It’s easy to see that Yoongi is angry. From the heavy thud of his boots against the firmly packed dirt to the furious hunch of his shoulders, everything about him screams that he is livid. Even the way his travelling cloak flutters about his form is ominous, like the dark roil of storm clouds on a distant horizon.

You follow closely behind, meek and sufficiently scolded. He’s been like this for the better part of the afternoon, ever since you left the previous town behind.

“Um,” you pipe up, hoping to power through the stormy silence that hangs over you. You’re rewarded with a lethal glare- no one does cold fury quite like Min Yoongi.

Hanging your head, you sigh, continuing following at a dutiful three paces behind the furious man. You find yourself missing Jungkook, sure that he would have the ability to overcome this kind of tension, were he here. Or even Jiyeon, as much as you dislike her- perhaps the “chosen one” wouldn’t trigger such ire in her fated mentor. Really, any sort of third companion would do, if not to pacify Yoongi, then at least to keep you company. Long silences aren’t really your thing, after all.

You square your shoulders, straightening. At the next town, Jin and Hoseok await your arrival, and then you will have at least two more companions to chat to when Yoongi enters one of his “moods”.

Not that his “moods” happen very often. For a man who is almost infamously gruff and who seems to permanently have a scowl etched upon his face, his actual personality is fairly calm and unbothered. Years of journeying across the realm of Adlentur have resulted in an attitude where there is very little that can truly throw him off.

Apparently, you possess that unique ability, for the calm mask he often adorns is nowhere to be seen. Even when you’d followed him out of your hometown and demanded to accompany him a lick of ability, magical or not, to warrant your accompaniment, he hadn’t batted an eye. He had merely squinted thoughtfully at you while Seokjin and Hoseok insisted that you would merely be deadweight, before turning around and announcing that if you couldn’t keep up, you’d be left behind.

He’s doing his best to leave you behind now; you’re struggling to keep up with his rapid pace. It’s so speedy that you feel a twinge in your freshly-healed ankle. With a wince, you stumble a few steps, and the ground comes rapidly rising up to meet your face. Before it can make contact, however, a stabilising hand encircles your elbow and you’re yanked upright.

Yoongi stares at you, a delicate but angry flush creeping across the high points of his cheek bones and down his neck.

“Thanks.” You offer sheepishly, before gingerly setting your weight upon your foot once more. The healers had warned you that the fractures were severe enough that even with the extensive healing you’d likely still be a bit tender for the next few days.

“Does it hurt?” He demands, and you wince. You straighten and shake your head.

“It’s just a bit weaker than normal.” You rush to assure him. These are the first words he’s said to you since you woke up in the clinic of the village you’d been staying in. Since then, he’s sort of just stormed around in a furious silence.

The incident that had set him off had been an attack on said village. Of late, the sporadic surges of nightmarish beasts that left few survivors and decimated village populations were becoming more frequent, and this particular village was no exception. This village was lucky in that it had a protector; Yoongi is gifted with special abilities and highly trained in combat. You have no idea where he got the abilities from and why he is so skilled, but it saved your life when he first came to your village, and it didn’t take him long to begin saving lives in this village.

But Yoongi is only human (you assume), and the beasts were numerous and powerful. People can slip under the radar in times of chaos and he hadn’t noticed the small child in the path of danger.

You had, though. You had seen the oncoming danger but unlike Yoongi, you are not trained in combat. You aren’t gifted with special abilities. You’re just an orphan who witnessed what he could do. You’re nothing special.

But you couldn’t just leave the child to die.

According to the healers that Yoongi had carried your broken, bloody body to, you had gotten off easy. A broken ankle, a shredded arm and deep lacerations across your body. The healers had been skilled and Yoongi had supplied them with some of his own magic to give them the ability to heal your wounds- within just twelve hours the only remnants of your scuffle with the monster was a slightly weakened ankle and some ugly scars from some of the deeper wounds that even the healing magic couldn’t overcome.

Despite his foul mood, Yoongi’s hands are gentle as he guides you to sit on a nearby rock. He crouches before you and reaches for your ankle- his hands are warm as his thumb slides against the ball of your ankle. He’s so careful as he rotates your ankle upwards, testing the range of motion. Even in his anger, he treats you like you’re made of glass.

He hadn’t treated you like this when you first started out. He’d just kind of begrudgingly tolerated all your quirks, watched as you bulldozed your way into his little travelling party. But then, as time went on, he’d become more tentative. More careful. He’d tell you to hide when an attack came on the village so you didn’t get in the way. You’d meet a new person and his arm would come up in front of you, like he’s shielding you from a threat. It’s almost subconscious. But it’s annoying.

“It’s fine.” You say, tugging your ankle away from his grasp as sitting straighter on the rock. You feel like a haughty child when he raises weary eyes to glare at you.

“It was shattered yesterday.” He reminds you. “If we’d been in any other village, you’d probably be out of commission for months. And I would’ve left you behind because we have to save-“

He cuts off abruptly but you can fill in the blanks of what he’d say.

An ugly thought overcomes you; what if I were her? It’s poisonous and burns in your chest. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but you’ve been familiar with it a long time. Ever since Yoongi and his crew arrived at your village in search of the long-awaited “chosen one”. It’s probably a dream every orphan harbours; that they are special and unique and wanted, and the murmurs that followed Yoongi’s arrival had probably triggered a similar feeling of longing across the many orphans that take up residence in your village.

Alas, that chosen one is not you; you remember your parents very clearly. Warm, kind, loving. They succumbed to the plague that had left the orphanage you grew up in overflowing. In such a full and overwhelmed establishment, it is easy to sneak in an extra child. And that’s what Jiyeon had been. Always on the outskirts, a little special and unique. She could never quite fit in with the other kids and for some reason you’d always resented that. Not only that; the way she never even seemed to try. She possessed some unique spark, some unfathomable dignity. Alone, dirty-cheeked, unwanted even in an orphanage, and yet there was always something special in her. And it never left her even as the two of you grew up and took your leave from the orphanage.

It hadn’t taken Yoongi long to find her- apparently Seokjin had some sort of specialised divination powers and he’d known who she was the instant he’d laid eyes upon her. Agnes, the local breadmaker, had taken her on as an apprentice and you’d even been in the store when they entered, seeking her out. There’d been something mysterious and terribly exciting about them- it had felt like the opening scenes of those adventure novels Jungkook would read out to the other kids in the orphanage.

And you’d witnessed the disaster that had followed- the attack on the village, your home, by those merciless monsters, the death of people you’d known, and Jiyeon’s ensuing kidnap. Someone apparently didn’t want Jiyeon taking up the mantle of her destiny.

You’re not sure why you insisted you come along on the journey to save her- you never liked Jiyeon. You didn’t know Yoongi or Seokjin or Hoseok. And your closest friend was adamant that he’d stay behind to assist in the rebuilding effort of your village.

Maybe it was something ugly; a desire for it to have been you instead. The one with special, hidden powers and an endless exciting adventure before you. As Yoongi looks up at you, you could believe that maybe that was your motivation. Maybe you wanted to be the one he was looking for.

“I would have caught up.” You finally say, instead of sharing any of those ugly thoughts. “If you’d left me, I’d have hunted you down and followed.”

Yoongi gets abruptly to his feet, and you nearly tumble off the rock in surprise.

“You’re a fool!” He cries. Your eyes widen, but he’s lost to a tirade. Alabaster skin has flushed a furious crimson and the dark points of his eyes have hardened- they glint at you like unyielding steel. “Don’t you understand what we’re doing here? We have to rescue the chosen one or the world as we know it is over. We’re on a time limit! This isn’t some fun whacky adventure with friends- peoples’ lives are at stake! And you’re just throwing yourself around like a thoughtless child!”

You stiffen defensively.

“I’m not being thoughtless-“ you protest, anger heating your words as you spit them out, but Yoongi cuts you off.

“You are! What powers do you have? What abilities? None! I allowed you to come because I didn’t think you’d get in our way so much!” He snarls at you. You throw yourself to your feet, your eyes blazing and your heart thundering furiously in your heart. “Instead you’re throwing yourself into fights you know you can’t handle! You should have left the kid to me!”

“So I was supposed to just sit and stay where you’d left me? Like a dog?” You cry. “When people are dying around me? When a child was about to lose his life?”

“You were supposed to not get hurt!” Is what Yoongi shouts.

And then he goes abruptly silent, his mouth closing so violently that you hear his teeth click together. He cups a hand over his mouth and turns abruptly away, shoulders hunched.

The change in mood is so sudden that you feel like you have whiplash; you almost lose your balance with the about-face. Yoongi keeps his back to you for a long moment, and there’s something hurt about the way he curls himself away from you. Finally, he takes a long, shaky inhale and when he finally turns back to you, his eyes are glazed with emotions you can’t understand. It’s not fair that he gets to stare at you like that, that he gets to make you feel two feet tall.

“Why did you come?” He finally asks, levelling you with a wary look.

The air feels heavy. You and Yoongi have had a good relationship from the beginning- he’s a little protective and a little bit gruff, but on the whole he’d looked out for you and if anything, you felt closer to him than you did to Seokjin or Hoseok. So this is likely the first time the two of you have clashed like this.

It’s probably the question he should have asked when you first demanded you accompany him. He should have questioned your motives. He’d had just enough interaction with Jiyeon to work out that she was a bit of an outcast before she’d been kidnapped; he should have known that she’s not your friend. Maybe that’s why you’re so fond of Yoongi; because he hadn’t asked any of those things. He’d looked at the plucky orphan and given you a chance.

You’ve questioned your own motives many times; why are you on this journey? Why didn’t you stay in your rightful place with Jungkook back at the village? Why did you insist you help rescue Jiyeon? There are motives you can’t shake; that it was for glory. Recognition. So that you could play at being hero. So that you could catch the attention of the mysterious, handsome stranger who is currently eyeing you like you’re an unfamiliar but dangerous beast.

But you want to believe the motive in the depths of your heart is true; that are your core, you are good.

She’d met your eyes, the moment before those beasts grabbed her. She’d stared straight at you and begged you for help.

“Because people need help.” You finally say. You gaze straight at Yoongi, willing him to understand. Willing him to believe. Willing him to see the good in you that you want to believe is there.

Yoongi offers you a searching gaze; deep, dark eyes seem to pierce through to your very soul. He’s always had sharp eyes- he picks things up faster than anyone you’ve ever met and he notices things that no one else would even think to look for. It’s terrifying and exhilarating to have all the focus directed completely on you, even if it is only for a heartbeat. Like he’s disassembling you, piece by piece.

And then he turns away, shoulders stiff and posture ready like a well-trained soldier, and he begins to march off.

“You get two days of recovery. And then we start your training.” He glances over his shoulder at you. “If you’re to accompany the chosen one on her journey, then you must be able to defend yourself. Otherwise, if you continue to burden us like this, I shall chain you to your home at the village personally.”

And you can’t read his expression for the life of you, but there’s just something fond about the way the light glints off his steely eyes.

��Can’t I train her?” Seokjin complains, chewing through a mouthful of dried meat. He looks you up and down like he’s seizing up your weakness and you stick your tongue out him childishly. “I think she needs some work on her defensive skills; perhaps I can come at her with a stick and she can try and fend me off.”

“That just sounds like you want revenge for the mouse she put in your bedding this morning.” Hoseok offers helpfully.

Yoongi chews through his rations slowly and thoughtfully before levelling a glare a Seokjin.

“You can train her as soon as you best me in a fight. If you’d like, we can test that out right now and I can give (Y/N) a day off-“

“That’s fine.” Seokjin hastily cuts him off. “You know what, actually I think I need to do some meditation this morning, make sure they haven’t shifted Jiyeon’s location and that we’re still heading in the right direction.” He scurries off, not sparing a look behind him and you resist the urge to snort in laughter. Perhaps the mouse had been unnecessary, but some sort of revenge had been required after all Seokjin’s recent comments on the amount of time Yoongi had been taking to train you.

It had been months now, since Yoongi had decided you needed training; you were still a beginner by all means but Yoongi is a good teacher and with each day that passes you grow more adept. It leaves you a little sad; had he been able to mentor Jiyeon and cultivate her special abilities like he intended, perhaps the world would already be saved and the growing evil sealed permanently.

“You never did say why you decided to start learning to fight, (Y/N),” Hobi comments conversationally; though he is just as much a coward as Seokjin, he does have some sort of immunity to Yoongi’s withering glare. This leaves him undeterred by Yoongi’s subtle hints that he is unwelcome at your training sessions, for the most part.

“If she’s coming along on a dangerous journey, she needs to learn to defend herself.” Yoongi cuts in. He finishes the last of his meal, and gets to his feet. He stretches languorously, like a cat, peering at you through squinted eyes. “I’ll give you an hour and then we’ll get started. We’ll make camp here for tonight and cross the river in the morning.”

He wanders off, leaving you with Hobi. Hobi watches him go with mild curiosity.

“What happened between you two when we got separated?” Hobi wonders aloud. He tilts his head and stares at you. “Something just... seems different with you two.”

You pause to consider; true to his word, Yoongi had given you another couple of days to recover, and then he’d started his training. The two of you would spend the day hiking and in the evenings when you’d made camp for the night, he’d teach you the basics of combat. But despite his rigorous training, there was no denying that Yoongi treated you differently after that day. Not hugely different- his protectiveness hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t any less gruff than usual. He just seemed... a little warmer. Kinder, even. Except when he was training you and then he’d turn into a demon spawned from the depths of hell.

“Nothing we haven’t already told you; a village got attacked, I got injured, and Yoongi decided I should be trained in combat to stop it happening again.” You recall. Hoseok shakes his head in absolute bafflement.

“See, those all sounds like standard things for Yoongi, but then he also doesn’t seem like Yoongi. He’s so... different with you.l Hoseok admits. “I’ve known him for years now, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he...” he trails away, before looking at you curiously. “Ah.” He makes a little noise of understanding.

You lean forward eagerly.

“What?” You ask. Hoseok holds a thumb and forefinger to his chin thoughtfully.

“Nothing. I just want to try something. Hold still.” And that’s all the warning you get before Hoseok dives at you. Your eyes widen as you lurch back, but you are caught off guard and so Hoseok is able to pin you easily.

“Hobi!” You cry in protest, but he just grins and leans in close. You can’t help but notice how compromising the position you are in is, pinned beneath Hobi, and when he drops down low enough for his mouth to tickle your ear, you can only imagine what the pair of you look like to a third party.

“Yoongi’s the jealous type, by the way.” Is what he whispers, and that’s all he manages to tell you before a very loud throat clear interrupts him.

Hobi leans back, settling on his heals but not bothering to get off you. Yoongi stares down at him, unimpressed. His lips are pressed firmly together, but otherwise his expression is unreadable.

“Ah, Yoongs,” Hoseok says cheerfully. “I was just thinking I’d test (Y/N)’s reflexes. See how your training is going for myself.”

“Hoseok.” Yoongi says cooly. He smiles but it has no warmth in it. “Surely you’ve seen me fight enough; are you doubting my ability to train her?”

He offers a hand out to Hoseok, who accept it cheerfully. Freed from Hoseok’s grasp, you sit up, brushing dirt off your tunic and then glaring at Hoseok.

“Never.” Hoseok says warmly. He’s entirely too cheerful and smug and you don’t know why.

“What the hell, Hobi-“ you snap, but Yoongi cuts you off.

“I changed my mind, (Y/N),” he says abruptly. He pins you with shimmering dark eyes. “We’ll start our training now; Hoseok has just helpfully pointed out some shortcomings.”

“You’re welcome.” Hoseok offers, before taking his leave to find Jin.

He’s gentle as he helps you to your feet.

Everything about him is almost overly careful, as he leads you away from the camp site to a small clearing. There’s a tension to his figure that you don’t quite understand- it reminds you of the fight you’d had, where he’d turned away from you, overcome with emotion.

Yoongi takes a long, deep breath.

“Are you ok?” He finally asks, when the tension has bled from his posture. You nod cautiously, and Yoongi nods awkwardly to himself, before sighing heavily. He shoves a distressed hand through his hair, and the dishevelled look makes him look younger, somehow. Yoongi hasn’t been very forthcoming with personal details about himself, particularly his age, but normally he looks just a bit older than you. But the look he gives you now is almost boyish, like a confused child lost in the woods.

“Hoseok’s always been nosey.” He comments. “He likes to do unhelpful things because he thinks he’s helping me.” The almost frazzled way he says the words is so unlike the composed man you know; you feel like you have whiplash and you don’t even know the reason behind his sudden and unexpected fluster.

“You mean pinning me?” You wonder. Yoongi nods, agitated, before stepping close to you.

“What did he say to you?” He asks. “When he was... he was... I saw him say something. What’d he say?”

You pause to recall the cryptic words- that Yoongi is the jealous type. It’s certainly an interesting little tidbit to know; a small part of you wonders if that jealousy would ever be directed at you, but you dismiss it just as quickly. But for the life of you, you can’t think why Hobi might have brought it up in such a context, or why he even thought it appropriate to pull the stunt in the first place.

“That you’re the jealous type.” You share, wondering if Yoongi will offer any further clarity or insight into the situation or if he will keep his thoughts to himself like he often prefers to do.

Something sparks in Yoongi’s eyes, and this, at least, is an easy emotion to interpret; irritation.

“Let’s just get started.” He grumbles. He guides you through your regular warm up. You’re thankful you’d eaten earlier than the others for you’re sure you’d have a nasty cramp if you hadn’t. Yoongi is short and clipped in his delivery and it’s clear the hounding from his peers earlier has left him in a foul mood.

Finally, after a series of difficult drills that he’s been practicing with you, he allows you a brief reprieve.

“You’ve come a long way.” He observes, while you take a long drink from a waterskin. When you stare at him questioningly in response, he settles down next to you and offers something close to a smile. It’s a little terser and a little awkward, but there’s a warmth to his eyes that you’ve steadily become acquainted with despite the rarity of its appearances. “Give it another few months and you’ll be able to keep up with even Jin.”

“I probably won’t.” You remind him. “Jiyeon’s being held at the next town- you’ll probably be too preoccupied training her to have these sessions with me.”

Yoongi stiffens, just slightly, but you’ve become accustomed with the way he expresses himself throughout the journey and you know the statement throws him.

“I can manage two pupils. It might even be helpful for her to spar with someone closer to her skill level.” He finally says. You nod, getting up and stretching, bouncing from heel to heel as an indicator that you’re ready to go.

“I suppose it might.” You offer, but now your mind is preoccupied. In the next few days, the four of you will enter into the territory where Jin can sense Jiyeon is being held, and they will begin her rescue mission. Following that, Yoongi had planned to withdraw to his hometown where he can safely train her in preparation. From there, the campaign begins; they must raise up an army mighty enough to take on the Empire and remove whatever curse upon the land the Shadow Emperor has wrought. It’s a long, arduous path ahead of them, one you definitely hadn’t thought through. But with your meagre, beginner fighting skills, surely you shall be more hindrance than help, as pointed out by Yoongi all those months ago.

Yoongi picks up on your distraction when he’s able to pin you in a fairly simple maneouvre. He plants a forearm against the base of your throat and pins your legs beneath the weight of his body. His body is warm against yours and the force of the blow that sent you sprawling has you breathless. You bring up your hands, trying to dislodge his arm, but he’s stronger and surer than you and it doesn’t budge.

“Distraction can cost you your life.” He comments, and his voice is a low rumble. His breaths come deep and heavy- warm puffs of air tickle your skin and his torso heaves against yours.

“Sorry.” You mutter. The pressure against you eases as Yoongi sits back but he doesn’t shift his weight off you.

“I was distracted too.” He admits. He rolls off you and straightens, dusting off his pants before extending a hand to you. “Let’s leave it here and pick up tomorrow. It might even be our last training session without Jiyeon so I expect you to work hard.”

You take his hand and the mention of her name has something dark and ugly churning in your stomach. This whole situation has your heart sitting cold in your chest like unyielding stone. You had confessed to Yoongi that you had come along on this journey because someone needed help- what about after? What role did you have to play in all this? Yoongi had just assumed you would continue to accompany them, but is that really what you should do?

“I’m the jealous type too.” The words come out of you softly, unbidden- you almost don’t realise you’ve said them until you see the way Yoongi stiffens.

“What?” He asks, turning back to face you. His expression is about as readable as a blank page- you’re sure the Emperor’s fortress would be easier to breach.

You swallow deeply and steel yourself. You’ve already said the words- it’s time you faced these pesky feelings before you make a decision you regret.

“I’m the jealous type too.” You confess, a little louder. “I don’t want to be your second pupil. I don’t want to be someone along just so Jiyeon’s less lonely and has someone to spar with. I like training with you. I want to keep training with just you. And the thought of sharing this time with her... it makes me feel jealous.”

Yoongi is silent, staring at you in confusion. It takes him a few baffled blinks before he manages an answer.

“We don’t have enough time for two separate sessions.” Is what he offers, the words slow and almost slurred in confusion. “And Jiyeon’s training takes priority.”

It’s a slap in the face, even if Yoongi doesn’t mean it in the way you’re thinking. He doesn’t seem to understand, but you want him to. You want him to comfort you and take away the ugly feelings storming inside you.

“I’m not talking about training.” You finally say. “I’m talking about us. You and me.”

Yoongi looks like you’ve just punched him in the stomach- the look of absolute bewilderment on his normally calm face would be funny if your heart didn’t feel like it was about to plummet straight through your body into the ground below you.

“I have feelings for you.” You blurt. “And I’m scared. Because Jiyeon’s the chosen one. She has to be your priority. The world needs that. But if she’s the priority... if she’s the one that needs to be trained and cared for and raised.... where does that leave me? Less useful than a packing mule.”

Yoongi’s expression is stony, but you can see the emotion shining in his eyes. His normally composed exterior is completely shattered, and for just a brief second you catch a glimpse of fragile, vulnerable longing.

And then his expression steels and it’s like a door slamming shut.

“I don’t have time for feelings.” Is what he says. He’s brusque and his words are firm and if you hadn’t caught that glimpse of emotion, it would almost seem cruel the way he delivers them. “And if this is what you are spending your time worrying about, then I think it best you return to your village.”

And then he leaves you, alone in the clearing to clean up the mess you’ve made of your own heart.

Despite his rough dismissal, you do not go home. You’ve come too far to not at least see Jiyeon safe and rescued. What comes after is something you can worry about when it actually happens.

Seokjin and Hoseok can tell something happened, but they are awkward and unsure about how to proceed since both you and Yoongi refuse to speak of it. Instead, the two of you arrive at some sort of wordless truce; he won’t send you home and you won’t bring up your feelings again.

The four of you arrive at the town where Jin can sense Jiyeon’s presence. It’s a fairly unremarkable town, just small enough that it’s hard to enter without people noticing your presence but just large enough that they probably can’t guess at your motives. It takes a few days of reconnaissance to discover where Jiyeon may be; this town happens to house a small, undercover faction of the emperor’s top mages, and a days’ hike out of the village holds a secret dungeon.

The decision is made to leave you behind, and though normally you’d insist you accompany them, a piercing glare from Yoongi has you meekly agreeing to stay overnight in the in . Your instructions are simple; if the four of them do not return by 6am the next morning, you are to cross the country and head to the town of Sabre, Yoongi’s hometown. From there, you should find the aid necessary to rescue the chosen one, and from there it will be up to Yoongi’s friends and family to replace Yoongi’s role as mentor and teacher to the chosen one.

You’re seeing the them off under the cover of night when Yoongi finally acknowledges you.

You’re about to turn back to the inn and retire to the room that you’d hired out when he calls your name. You turn back in surprise; Jin and Hoseok watch in confusion as Yoongi walks towards you. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress before coming to a halt before you.

His expression is oddly soft as he casts his gaze over you.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. It’s soft enough that Jin and Hoseok can’t hear, but you hear the words as loud as day. “I’ll... I’ll see you in the morning.”

Despite everything, despite the ache in your chest, despite the overwhelming worry and concern, despite the fear, you smile at him. He looks surprised for a moment before you notice the slightest curl form at the edge of his mouth in a weak smile.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” You promise.

You do attempt to sleep that night; after all the plan is to leave straight away and flee to Sabre as soon as Jiyeon is rescued. You have a long an arduous journey ahead of you and you’re the only one who has the luxurious option of sleep. But you only manage fitful bursts, filled with nightmares. Finally, the dawn rolls around, though you do not feel rested in the slightest.

You rise with a sigh, readying your scant belongings and changing into appropriate travel gear.

And then, you wait. Waiting is agony- that’s something you learn as you settle beside the window of your small room and watch the sun peek between imposing stone buildings. The sky warms from a dull grey into a blushing pink, and then a bright blue. And all the while, you catch no glimpse of your friends. Six am comes and goes. No one had warned you how deeply terrifying your role would be. Waiting and uncertain. Are they dead? Captured? You do not know- they didn’t grant you the luxury of any information; just left you behind to deal with the mess, under the guise of “safety”.

Stiffly, you rise from your position. You do not dare check the clock. You do not want to know how long past the meet-up time it is though it must be at least a few hours. Your instructions had been to leave strictly as 6am lest people

come looking for you, but that hour has come and gone.

“You’re a liar.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the crisp morning air. It had only been last night that he’d promised to see you again; so quickly he broke his promise.

You kick the dirt aimlessly before beginning a quick stride for the edge of town, your head down. “A coward and a liar.” You assert, though your voice is thick with unshed tears.

You’ve just stepped into the woods that surround the edge of the town when you hear the crunch of boots in dirt and the clink of armour; soldiers are out and about. Perhaps they’re searching for your friends after a successful mission and Jiyeon is safe; perhaps they’re searching for any backup to exterminate and ensure her continued imprisonment.

You’re searching for a way to conceal yourself when an arm wraps around your bicep and nearly yanks you off your feet. You stumble back into a firm, warm presence, and one hand covers your mouth while an arm snakes around your waist, stifling your cry.

You don’t hesitate to utilise the momentum of your fall. You swing your elbow around to where you estimate your attacker’s abdomen is. They release a soft “oof” and you utilise the way that their arm goes slack to swing forward in the same moment you bring the heel of your foot slamming down over theirs.

They grunt and hunch over in pain.

“It’s me!” A familiar voice hisses, releasing you so that you can whirl around and see your attacker.

“Yoongi?” You say, before remembering the approaching guards and lower your voice. “You’re here?!”

“I am.” He comments softly. “Jin sensed you hadn’t left yet and I.... came to get you.” He confesses.

A clank of armour and the distant sound of voices has the two of you freezing; now is not the time for reunion. There will be time for catch up and explanation later. For now, you are in imminent danger until the soldiers pass you by.

Yoongi secures a hand tightly around your wrist and guides you through the undergrowth in a low crouch. He moves in the opposite direction of the voices, brushing branches out of the way.

“There’s a hollow ahead; we can hide there until they pass by and then we’ll make for town. The others will be waiting for us there.” He glances at you over his shoulder.

You don’t know what passes through his expression, but you feel his grip tighten just a fraction and his pace quickens.

The hollow he speaks of is a tree- rain has washed away the soil that the tree clung to. In its place, twist, skeletal roots knot and weave to form a dark space just large enough to hide some if they scrunched themselves up very tightly. You pause to raise an eyebrow at Yoongi. He pointedly ignores your scepticism, pressing pointedly on your shoulders until you obediently crawl into the space. He is not far behind- you feel the warmth of his form as he crowds you in. You’re about to comment that you don’t feel particularly hidden when you feel the brush of his magic; the shadows around the roots thicken. It’s a spell you’ve seen before- people’s eyes seem to just slide over the places that Yoongi’s shadows conceal.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re still here and not halfway to the next town when we agreed you’d leave three hours ago?” He murmurs from where he is crouched over you. Crushed up against him like this, he is a large, foreboding presence. Were it not for the glint of warmth to his eyes, the relief at seeing you safe, you could almost be afraid of this terrifying man. If he is, indeed, a human at all.

You could do a lot of things in that moment- pour out the anxiety and worry and misery and anger you feel and watch him boil in it; instead you release the fragile shard of vulnerability you had been trying to keep a tight hold on.

“I couldn’t accept you’d died.” You confess.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, and he drops his head so that it rests against your shoulder. His hair tickles the side of your neck and you feel the heavy weight of his breath as he exhales slowly.

“I’m sorry.” He confesses. You shake your head, attempting to shift back. Some distance would be helpful to the loud racket your heart is currently making.

“It was out of your control.” You remind him. “It’s hard to be punctual when you’re fighting against an empire.”

His arms tighten- a hand lifts from the soil and fits into the curve of your waist, anchoring you against him.

“Not about that.” He confesses. “About.... about what you said earlier. About your feelings- I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I have so much I must do and I can’t afford distractions and yet...... there is so much I want to be distracted by, (Y/N).”

He feels your surprised inhale, the way your ribs hiccup beneath his palm.

“I’m supposed to be protecting Jiyeon and yet when Jin told me you were in danger...”

He doesn’t have to finish the story. Here he is, holding you desperately against him like at any moment you may crumble. He left the chosen one vulnerable, unprotected and untrained to save you. The plucky orphan who should have never been apart of this tale in the first place.

Against your volition, you hand comes up to slide against his cheek. His eyes squeeze shut at the gesture- it reminds you of a cat, the way his eyes squint in contentment.

“I understand.” You admit. “I.... It’s not your fault.”

Those are the only words you can muster. How else can you articulate the way it has clicked in place? The burden Yoongi bears; the long, scary road ahead of him. He cannot afford to be thinking of the things he cannot have; and he cannot have you, as much as you both want it.

You know he understands what you meant; that your words have lifted a heavy burden from his heart. He did not want to hurt you; but he cannot drag you in.

You lean up, tilting your head up just slightly so that you can have a brief taste of the life you could have had; if you were born in a time of peace and prosperity. Perhaps you could have wedded. Had children together. Grow old with your hands linked together, smiling with recollections of a life well-lives. His lips are soft but firm, and the kiss is filled with sadness.

You eventually make the decision to go home. It’s not inmediatelt; you persevere for a while. You accompany them on the arduous journey back to Yoongi’s hometown. You assist with Jiyeon’s training as Yoongi intended. But eventually you come to accept the truth; this isn’t your journey to be on.

Jiyeon, who was suspicious of your presence at first given your history, is the one who protests the most, oddly enough. Perhaps you are the small piece of familiarity in a sea of chaos and fear, to her. And oddly, you are sad to say good-bye. Despite never liking her as a child, as an adult you begin to see it. The heart for others, the unwavering compassion and determination. She has the heart of a hero.

But that’s why you must return home; a hero needs a home to fight for, after all.

Yoongi’s goodbye to you is subdued. He does not voice his sadness- Jiyeon even goes so far as to scold him to his dismissiveness. But you know; you can see it shining in his eyes. If he lets go, he will break down. And you are leaving to prevent that; your goodbye will be for naught if he lets himself crumble here.

“It’s not forever.” You reassure your friends. Jin nods, tearfully, while Hoseok rests a comforting hand against his shoulder- normalky he would be the one sobbing the loudest, but he is to chaperone you home and then he will rendez-vous with the others in Yoongi’s hometown. “I’ll see you when the war ends. If any of you die, I’ll be very cross with you.”

That does it; the briefest, weakest smile from Yoongi.

And so ends this chapter of your adventure.

Epilogue:

The war lasts five years. Villages are ravaged, lives are lost and empires are brought to their knees. Joyous bells ring throughout your town when the news reaches you; the emperor has fallen.

For you, you don’t think much of it. The war had left countless children orphaned, and to the best of your ability you take as many in as you can handle. Ever since you and Jungkook took over the orphanage, funds have been tight and there have been endless mouths to feed. So the news of the war ending leaves you surprisingly underwhelmed. The end of the war will not mean food appears from nowhere or make these children un-orphaned. If anything, your job gets harder now; as people lick their wounds and the fallen empire recovers, you will have your hands full with your children.

You’re informing Jungkook of this opinion quite loudly in the tavern one evening. It’s past curfew for the children and old Bertha had offered to keep an eye on things so the two of you could have a night off.

You’re surprised when a nearby customer snickers. Casting your gaze, you notice four hooded figures seated around the door. That in itself is not suspicious, for many travellers prefer to keep their identities concealed as they pass through.

What is suspicious is the brief glimpse you catch of one of the hooded strangers, the slight tilt of a smirk that seems almost familiar.

Having noticed your attention is drawn, one of the travellers lean forward.

“Do go on.” A familiar voice sounds. You nearly drop your glass as you blink a few times. Suddenly, your heart is racing.

“Do you know these people?” Jungkook asks curiously, eyeing the group with mild interest.

You’re too stunned to reply, so the initial traveller, the one who had snickered answers for you. He tugs his hood off to reveal chestnut hair, a heart shaped mouth, bright glittering eyes.

“I sure hope she does since we came all this way to find her.” Hoseok cries enthusiastically.

You distantly hear the sound of a chair sliding across wood and then realise the source is you, leaping from your chair.

“H-hoseok?” You cry. He grins.

“The one and only!” He caws. He gets to his feet to engulf you in a monstrous bear hug.

The other travellers take the opportunity to tug their hoods free; first Jiyeon appears, beaming at you, then Seokjin.

And then Yoongi. Five years has not aged him, though you always had considered the possibility that he is immortal.

Hoseok seems to realise he’s lost your attention, for he releases you and begins interrogating Jungkook.

You’re far too preoccupied with the man before you.

“Yoongi.” You breathe.

The smile he offers you is surprisingly light and warm. Like a cat blinking contentedly in the rays of the morning sun. And despite it being nearly half a decade since you last saw him, your heart races just the same.

“You did say it wasn’t forever.” He offers you simply.

And as your eyes water and fill with tears, you offer him a weak smile.

And so begins the next chapter of your adventure.

#thebtswritersclub #castlebangtan #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #writing

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mackinmacki · 5 years ago

Text

Those in Glass Houses (White Rose Week #1)

Fandom: RWBY

Pairing: White Rose

Word Count: 5197

Rating: G

Synopsis: Weiss has a tough time dealing with her past actions, wondering if the girl she loves can ever forgive her for how she acted.

Prompt: Mirror

Links: FFN | AO3

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'Tell me: what do you see?' She stared blankly at the wall, every inch covered in mirrors. They were all shiny and clean, as if someone had just taken an entire bottle of Windex to them. All she could see in them was herself, her piercing blue eyes empty as they looked back at her. It felt like she could see through herself, right into the depths of her very soul. Every day, she loathed the person she saw staring back.

"I see a weak-willed girl," she whispered, stepping forward. She pressed her fingertips against the mirrored wall, watching her reflection duplicate her actions. It felt like she could feel a cool touch against her fingers, like her reflection was trying to break free of its confines. "I see..." She swallowed thickly, feeling a couple errant tears start to trickle down her cheek. "I see someone who doesn't know who she is."

'Curious...' She turned around, surrounded by the sad, judgmental looks of her reflections. They were everywhere. The mirrors covered every wall, as well as the floor beneath her and the ceiling above her. There was no escaping the bitter truth that she was forced to swallow every day. 'You know who you are, Weiss. It's who you have been ever since you were born. Some would call it destiny.'

"I don't believe you." Truthfully, she didn't want to believe it. However, she couldn't help but feel some sort of truth within those words. She had grown up to become exactly like everyone expected her to be: a haughty, judgmental brat who couldn't get anywhere without the wealth and privilege that her family name brought. If she had been born the exact same person, but without the Schnee name dragging behind her like a ball and chain, she would be nothing.

'Think about all the terrible things you've said. All the things you've done.' She felt a cold breeze tickling her skin, making her instinctively hug herself to try and find some semblance of warmth. 'Do you really think Blake respects you when you hate her kind?' Without thinking about it, she lifted up a hand and touched the scar on her face, blinking back tears. 'Do you think Ruby cares for you when you've shown her nothing but disdain every step of the way?'

"She does," but her words held no conviction. In the mirrors, she watched a memory play out: the first time she and Ruby met at Beacon. She cringed when she watched her reaction to Ruby running into her and knocking over her luggage. While it had been an annoying occurrence, her response was beyond the pale. She had treated a stranger the same way everyone believed she would: like they were an annoyance that needed to be eliminated from her life. If she could just close her eyes, she could pretend that her actions in the past were all fictitious.

Unfortunately, she couldn't close her eyes, so she was forced to watch every terrible thing she had said and done be recreated by her reflection. She struggled as she heard the horrendous things she said about faunus, all right to Blake's face. For the first time, she could see Ruby's face throughout that scene. There was clear confusion and disappointment written all over it. She felt like she was being stabbed in the heart.

Each time she watched herself say something unnecessarily rude to Ruby, she felt the girl she loved slipping farther away. It hadn't hit her that she had such strong feelings for Ruby until it was too late, which was poetic justice if she had ever heard of it. Only she could be so rude to a person she'd end up loving. It was just who she was, after all. That was the kind of attitude everyone expected from a Schnee, and she did nothing to buck those trends.

'You see? How could anyone want to be near you when you act like that?' She wanted to say that it wasn't true: that she was a changed person, and she would never act that way anymore. What did that matter, though? Even if she was changed, she had still acted that way. Nothing there was false: she had been that rude, that horrible to be around. All of her friends abandoning her was proper penance for the way she had treated them. Tears fell nonstop now, blurring her vision as she watched her reflection swim around the glass.

'Your eye isn't the only place you hold scars.' Through the tears, she watched her reflection point all over her body before letting her finger hover over her heart. 'You are scarred everywhere. You are nothing but a miserable pile of scars, stitched together to become a semblance of a human being.' Each time she attempted to deny the truth that was ringing in her ears, she was forced to choke back a sob, and the words would die on her throat again and again.

She wiped away her tears, only to see something more horrific than anything she had done in the past. Her reflection started transforming right in front of her. She was growing taller, her hair shortening as her pristine white dress tightened up into an immaculate suit. With a rapidly-drying throat, she could only watch in horror as she transformed into her father.

"No..." Her voice was merely a whisper as she stared into the dark, uncaring eyes of her father. 'This is who you were always meant to become.' She shook her head fervently, not wanting to believe it. "I will never become him." If she said it enough times, maybe she could truly believe it herself. "I won't be him, I won't be him, I won't-" 'You're the heir to the Schnee Dust Company, are you not? Is it not your destiny to take his mantle someday? To run the company just as he has.'

"No! I would never!" She shouted at the voice, trying to sound more convincing than she felt. There was no way she would run the SDC like her father. She wasn't the same girl she had been when she first went to Beacon. Her feelings on faunus in particular had changed: she wouldn't abuse them like the horror stories she had heard concerning their labor underneath the SDC's corporate thumb. "I won't become my father!" She waited for a response, but the room was silent. It was just her and her reflection, staring at her angrily. "I won't! I won't I won't I won't!" Still nothing.

"Stop ignoring me!" Pulling Myrtenaster out of its holster, she spun the chamber around until it landed on ice. Then she started firing, shooting wave after wave of ice at the walls. Everywhere she aimed, the mirrors shattered, shards of glass tumbling to the ground. She spun around, her mind gone as she screamed out her frustrations. The walls became black voids as every mirror broke apart, leaving their reflections scattered across the floor.

"Please..." She dropped to her knees, crawling towards the broken mirrors. The shadow of her father followed beneath her, gliding like a ghost on the floor-length mirror. "I'm not... I'm not him..." She reached out and gathered up a handful of the shards, pulling them close to her. They laid across each other in an ugly, haphazard pile. In each one, she could see a part of her reflection, and she looked so angry: so ugly. "I promise..."

'You don't need to worry. You've already lost everything. Your friends, your inheritance, your dignity. There's nothing left for you to lose.' She wrapped her arms around her chest, sobbing openly. The tears that fell were greeted by her reflection's, who was crying along with her. Why? Why couldn't she have just been a better person? Why did her mother have to give up on her? Why did her sister have to abandon her? Why did she have to grow up to become her father? Why why why why whywhywhywhywhy-

"Don't listen, Weiss!" Her head shot up as she heard a different voice: a familiar voice. She started looking everywhere, peering deep into the void that had become her walls, but she couldn't see anyone. Slowly she stood up, her legs shaking as she started to move towards the center of her room. "It's not true!" There was the voice again, louder and clearer this time. It sounded much stronger than the previous voice had been.

"R-Ruby?" She stood in the center of the room, unsure of what to do. That had definitely sounded like Ruby's voice, but she couldn't tell where it had come from. 'She isn't real.' The other voice spoke in her head again, making her heart sink. 'Ruby would never forgive you for how terrible a person you are' She slapped her hands against her ears, trying in vain to block the negative words out. "N-No, it's not true! Shut up! Shut up!"

"Weiss!" There it was again. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere within the void. With slow, tentative steps, she walked forward, looking down at the shards of glass that now covered the floor. To her surprise, she saw a flash of red rush past a cluster of the broken mirror pieces. Then, on another little pile, she saw what looked like a red cloak whisk by. Could it be...?

On a whim, she started to try and piece together part of the mirrored wall that she had destroyed. She pulled pieces towards her, trying to place them together in order to build a full picture. Sometimes the glass would slice through her skin, droplets of blood dripping onto the floor, but she kept going. She didn't even let out so much as a whimper of pain. Her concentration was too great to be disturbed by such trivial matters.

'All you do is waste your time. You're trying to fix your past through your sad, pitiful reflection.' She saw her pale, pathetic face reflected in the makeshift mirror, and it almost cost her her nerve. However, this time she was able to push the voice aside. Remembering what Ruby had told her, she gritted her teeth and kept going. Piece by piece pressed together at odd angles, her eyes scanning desperately for more signs of red, but all she could see were the odd droplets of blood. 'She doesn't love you.'

"I don't need her to love me," she muttered, reaching out to grab more pieces. "I just need to tell her I'm sorry." She bit down on her lip as more cuts appeared on her hands, shaky touches smearing it across the glass. "She doesn't need to forgive me." As the mirror got bigger, she swore that she saw that familiar fluttering cloak on the edge of her vision. "I just want her to hear the truth from me."

"weISS!" Ruby's voice was quiet, but it became louder the more pieces Weiss shoved together. Looking down at the mirror, her eyes widened at the sight of Ruby running across her reflection. There was no doubt it was her, and she instinctively looked up to see if she was on the ceiling. All that was there was her reflection looking down at her, warped from the angle. Ruby was there, though. Somewhere...

Within the makeshift mirror, she saw Ruby running towards her. She seemed so far away in her reflection, her body split apart due to her inability to find every piece's perfect spot. Still, it was clearly Ruby: her teammate, her partner, her friend. She was there, and she was coming for her. Her heart was beating fast as she reached out towards the ground, desperately wanting to reach into the mirror and pull Ruby out.

The closer Ruby got, the faster her heart beat, until she swore that their hands touched. Her fingers, still dripping blood down her digits, touched the glass, and she saw Ruby's do the same. It felt like there was a sudden warmth on her fingertips, as if Ruby was actually there in the room. Then the mirror that she had so painstakingly attempted to put back together blew apart.

She let out a scream and her hands shot up to cover her face. The pieces shot every which way, destroying the work she'd so desperately done. When she looked down and saw that all she could see was her reflection, tears started to prick at her eyes again. She had been so close: Ruby had been right there. They had touched hands, and then... and now... she was gone again...

Then she felt something tapping her leg. She looked down in confusion, but didn't see anything. Her hand went down to absently rub her leg, and the tapping was now felt there. Shocked, she jumped to her feet and stumbled backwards, looking down again. This time, to her utter disbelief, Ruby was there again. She was in the floor mirror, standing underneath her with a familiar grin on her face. Weiss had never felt her heart swoon more seeing that smile before.

"It's going to be okay, Weiss." Ruby's reflection stood in front of hers, upside down and as lovable as ever. "Take my hand." She stuck out her hand, letting it hover inches away from the reflection of Weiss's hand. Frowning, she looked down at her hands, then at the reflections beneath her. How could she reach the girl she had to apologize to if she was stuck in the hell of her room's reflections. "Do you trust me, Weiss?"

"I do." There was no more hesitation on her part. She stuck her hand out, grasping at air. However, beneath her, her reflection was holding onto Ruby's hand, and she swore that she felt warmth pooling around her skin. It really did feel as if she was holding someone's hand, even though there was no one there. She squeezed down on the air tightly, closing her eyes and wishing that she could change everything she had ever said or done. "Please don't let go, Ruby."

"I'll never let go." The floor beneath her started to shake. With wide eyes, she looked down and saw the glass beneath her beginning to crack. The shards of the walls were bouncing and skating around the room. A long crack went down the floor, cutting right between herself and Ruby. Crying out, she jumped backwards, losing her footing and falling onto her butt. The entire room was shaking at this point, all of her furniture threatening to fall apart at a moment's notice. A shiver of fear ran down her back.

"Ruby!" She cried out, trying to find her reflection in the floor as it all began to crack and fall apart. "Help me! Please!" When she tried to stand, another ferocious tremor sent her flat down onto her back. The voice in her head was echoing again, telling her how terrible of a person she was, and how this destruction was what she deserved. Without Ruby's voice there to drag her back to sanity, she found herself slipping into that negativity again.

"Ruby..." She sniffled, trying to stand back up through her tears and her trembling frame. It was too difficult: she kept falling down, and her head was spinning with how much rumbling was going on around her. She could feel a piercing headache coming on, like someone was stabbing her right through the middle of her forehead with Myrtenaster. "Please, make it stop!" She cried out, begging as her shouts only made her headache worse. "Ruby, help me! Save me, Ruby!" In another time, she would have been horrified to hear such begging words leave her lips, but that was an old version of herself. Now she just wanted the girl who had become more important than she could have ever imagined to save her from this torment: to save her from herself.

Finally, she found her footing, wobbling along the shaking ground to try and get to her bed. 'There's nowhere for you to go.' She could see that her headboard had collapsed onto the sheets, and it looked as if the entire bed was threatening to fall out into the void. 'Just an endless plain of sorrow that you know you deserve to live in.' She kept moving, as if reaching this random destination could save her.

"I... won't give up," she gasped out, seeing a blur of red moving through the cracks in the floor. "Not... until I tell Ruby... what she means to me!" She fell to her knees, a few feet short of the bed. Tears were falling down her face, and her head was pounding relentlessly. Blood kept trickling from her fingers, but she couldn't quit. She wouldn't quit. Then she found something on the floor in front of her.

"What the..." She scooped up a few red petals, cradling them in her hands. They weren't reflections: they were the real thing. The texture on her skin was so familiar, and it made her feel a surge of energy. She knew that she could keep going. "Ruby! I know you're here!" She shouted to the ceiling, where the full-length mirror was also falling apart. "I'm sorry for how terrible of a teammate I was, Ruby! And how horrible of a friend I was! I was selfish and short-sighted, and I was wrong! Everything I said was wrong! Please forgive me, Ruby!"

Suddenly, the petals in her hand started to float out of her hands. She watched them rise into the air, then start blowing around her. Soon, a huge wind had kicked up around the room, picking up the shards of the mirrors and whipping them around in a circle. She was trapped within it, but she didn't have the strength to move anyway. All she could do was watch as the shards went faster, transforming into red petals.

She watched in silent amazement as the wind became red, circling around her until she couldn't see anything else. The entirety of her room was gone behind the blur of the breeze. She could still feel the room shaking, but the only reminder that anything was happening was the mirror she was sitting on. However, that specific spot wasn't cracked: it was as flawless as it could be. She could see the petals' reflection, along with her own self, and it was making her dizzy. It took a lot of willpower to avoid throwing up.

Then the red vortex stopped. For a moment, all of the petals held together as a wall, none of them so much as fluttering in the dying breeze. Then they all fell to the ground, smashing around her in a pool of red. Everything was back to normal. All of her furniture was where they were supposed to be, without any noticeable damage to anything. The walls that had cracked and crumbled were back up, as sturdy as ever. It was all made of normal materials as well: no more mirrors surrounding her from every angle. Standing right in front of her, looking down at her with a face full of concern, was Ruby.

"Weiss?" She stared up at her, mouth agape as she tried to take everything in. All of the destruction was gone, and the voice in her head had dissipated. Now she could just hear Ruby's voice, and the way her breathing sounded so uneven in her ears. "Weiss, are you oka- Oof!"

"Oh Ruby, I'm so sorry!" She had jumped to her feet and tackled Ruby in a big hug. "I'm sorry for all the terrible things I ever said about you, and all the times I was a terrible teammate. To you, and to Blake and Yang. I've been so ungrateful while you've been nothing but patient, and I don't deserve having someone so amazing in my life. I don't, but you're here. I can't believe you're here." She pulled back to look in Ruby's eyes, noticing that she was slack-jawed and utterly flabbergasted.

"Weiss, what's going on? I saw you freaking out on the floor, and-"

"I love you, Ruby." That shut her up instantly. "I've loved you for longer than I ever cared to admit. Maybe I was scared, or I was just too full of myself to believe the truth, but I can't hide it any longer. You might never forgive me for how terrible I was to all of you for so long, and I completely understand. I just had to tell you the truth: about how sorry I am, and how much you've come to mean to me over all this time."

"Uh, wow, uh... That's a lot to take in." Ruby laughed awkwardly, patting her shoulders. "Uh, well, first off, it's okay, Weiss. I know that we didn't exactly get off on the right foot when we first met, but that's all water under the bridge. We've moved way past that, right? Besides, we've become great partners! I trust you with my life!" She smiled such a warm, truthful smile that Weiss just couldn't help but believe her.

"Still, I just had to apologize. I was quite the burden on all of you." She clasped her hands together, looking down at her feet. "I let the way I was raised blind me to certain truths of the world, and I couldn't figure out why what I was doing was wrong until it was too late." She wiped at her eyes, feeling another wave of tears coming on. Then her hand was pushed aside, replaced by another. "Ruby?"

"Please don't cry, Weiss." There was sadness in Ruby's eyes, her hand surprisingly gentle as it wiped away her tears. "I promise you, everything is okay. You made some mistakes in the past, but that doesn't make you a bad person. The fact that you can admit to those mistakes means you're learning, and I think that's something to be celebrated. I'm proud of you for being able to admit those things." She smiled brightly, then a hint of red started to flood into her cheeks. "And, uh, speaking about admitting things... You said that you, uh, you know..." She tugged on her skirt, trying to find something to do with her hands. "... that you love me?"

"Oh, well... yes, yes I did say that." Wiping away a couple more stray tears, she forced herself to speak past her embarrassment. She had just gone through way too much chaos to let something so trivial like that bother her. "I do love you, Ruby. I've felt that way for a very long time. You're just... someone that I never thought I would meet in life. You're distracted and chaotic, but everything you are that I'm not somehow drives me closer to you. It makes me feel like I have to protect you from hurtling off a cliff, while at the same time I feel safe whenever I'm around you."

"I should have said something awhile ago, but I was too embarrassed, and too afraid. Emotions have... never been my strong suit." She frowned at the noticeable smirk on Ruby's face, though she quickly tried to hide it behind a hand. "I learned that showing emotions would cause me... certain issues." She didn't elaborate, but from the way Ruby's smile vanished, it was clear she had at least some inkling of understanding. "So I hid them, and after all these years, I never learned to confront them properly. In the end, I only hurt myself by not doing so." She looked down at her hands, at where the cuts from the mirror shards had been. There was nothing there anymore.

"Well, you're telling me now, right?" Ruby took hold of her hands, gently massaging them. "Sometimes it just takes time to get to know your feelings. Even I'm not always in tune with them as much as you might think." She stared at Ruby skeptically, which made her laugh. "I'm being serious! Sometimes I don't understand how I feel about certain things, and the emotions that hit me are like being thrown across the forest by a Beowulf. But, there is one emotion I've never questioned." She squeezed Weiss's hands tighter, blushing and smiling. "And that's my feelings for you."

"Really?" She felt lightheaded and warm, unable to control her rapidly-beating heart. "You have feelings for me too?"

"I'm pretty sure I've had them longer than you." Ruby laughed, and she found herself becoming lost in her partner's eyes. "Yang has been teasing me about them for the longest time, telling me I should tell you, but... I wasn't sure you liked me back." She swallowed thickly, knowing that Ruby had a point. Her attitude had never engendered herself to others, so it was unlikely that Ruby would have ever realized that there was a mutual reciprocation. "I didn't want to ruin what we had, since we had become so close as friends."

"I had no idea..." She had been aware of how touchy-feely Ruby was towards her, but she had just thought that was how she was as a person. It wasn't as if she didn't show affection towards others, so she hadn't thought that she was anything special. That had been a big reason for not saying anything when she realized the truth about her own feelings, though her embarrassment and social awkwardness were what truly won the day. "I've wasted all this time... I've been the worst partner you could have ever had..."

"No, don't say that!" For some reason, Ruby's voice sounded distant. Then it sounded worried on top of that. "Weiss? Weiss, what's wrong?!" The room was spinning, and she felt as if she was floating. She blinked once, twice, then her eyes didn't open. Everything was dark, as if she was swimming around in the void that had been hidden behind her walls. She thought that she could feel something or someone shaking her body, but it just made her coast along the darkness.

When she was able to open her eyes, and the world again appeared before her, she found herself flat on her back. By the softness she could feel beneath her, she knew she was lying on her bed. Hovering above her, with worried tear-tinged eyes, was Ruby. For a moment, she forgot what had happened or why Ruby was there in the first place, but then everything clicked and she made a surprisingly impulsive decision. She would probably never truly understand what made her do what she did, but she just wanted to wipe that worried look off of Ruby's face. So she reached up, pulled Ruby down to her, and kissed her.

It must have been surprising for Ruby to be suddenly kissed by the girl she had feelings for for so long, but to her credit, she didn't hesitate for a second. She immediately kissed her back, and the two of them got lost in each other's lips. They kissed until they had to pull away for a breath, both of them gasping as they stared at each other. Then they started to laugh. Neither of them knew why, but the entire situation just felt funny for whatever reason.

"I, uh, I didn't expect that to be our first kiss." Ruby wiped at her eyes, repeatedly pressing her lips together. "Wow, you taste good." That made Weiss blush, but she had to admit that Ruby also tasted pretty good.

"You do too," she whispered, wanting more than anything to get a second taste. However, she refrained from another kiss, because her head was swimming while trying to understand everything that was going on. "Do you love me, Ruby?"

"What gave it away?" She giggled and leaned down again, this time to plant a kiss on Weiss's forehead. "Yes, I do. I love you, Weiss Schnee. I've loved you for a long time, and I'm so relieved I was able to get it off my chest. So then..." She tapped her fingers together, smiling hopefully. "Do you love me?" Chuckling, she pulled Ruby down for another kiss. It was slower, longer, and full of all the words that she had never been able to say before.

"What gave it away?" She smiled at the laugh that drew out of Ruby: it made her heart soar like nothing else ever could. Just hearing those sounds made her feel that life was worth living, and everything in the world would be alright. "I may have never said it when I should have, but I do. I love you, Ruby Rose. More than anything or anyone in the entire world. I didn't know it at first, but having you in my life makes me feel like I should become a better person. I don't believe I would have realized how wrong I was living my life if I never met you."

"Does that mean I get to call you my girlfriend?" As much as she was trying to keep herself contained, Ruby was practically vibrating with excitement. It looked like she was about to dash out of the room, leaving nothing but rose petals in her wake.

"I suppose so." She acted like she was being burdened by Ruby's enthusiasm, but really she was just as excited. It was just harder for her to express it properly. "But, only on one condition." Ruby's eyes widened, having not expected there to be any conditions to their potential relationship.

"What condition?"

"That I get to call you my girlfriend." Ruby just stared at her for a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape. Then she started to laugh, her body quickly being overcome by it. She fell onto the floor, rocking back and forth as Weiss watched her, amused. "Is it that funny that I want you to be my girlfriend?"

"N-No, no no!" Unfortunately for Ruby, she couldn't stop laughing. "I just... didn't..." Her words struggled under her laughter, her body shaking with her movements. "Didn't expect..." It became such an issue that she ended up rolling right into the bed. "Waah! Oww..." She rubbed her side, whining when she saw Weiss barely holding back her laughter while she peered over the bed. "That's not funny."

"You're right: it's hilarious." Smirking, she reached down and offered her hand, which Ruby took to help herself back onto her knees. "So, are you willing to accept my condition?" She watched as Ruby's laughter faded away, and her expression softened into the most wonderful smile she had ever seen.

"Absolutely I am!" She got up and clambered onto the bed, then wrapped Weiss up in a tight hug. "I love you, Weiss!" Chuckling quietly, Weiss hugged Ruby back, embracing the warmth her new girlfriend gave her. Looking over towards her vanity, she could see the last remaining mirror in her room. Staring back at her was her reflection, but it was no longer the sad, pallid ghoul she had been seeing before. Instead, she was smiling, looking warm and alive with Ruby in her arms. That voice in her head had been wrong: Ruby did care for her. She wasn't beyond redemption.

"I love you too, Ruby."

#White Rose Week #RWBY #White Rose #Weiss Schnee #Ruby Rose #My Writing

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thxngam · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do sort of a tangled au with tony as rapunzel and either Steve/Bucky/Clint/Thor as Flyn Ryder? (That’s a lot of choices, sorry 😅) I love your writing btw, you write adorable tony so well 😍

Here you go nonnie! And can I say—such an interesting idea! I hope I did it justice 😁😁

Tony doesn’t like his tower. Of course, he’s made his schedule and Obie seems pleased enough to get him the tools he needs for the general upkeep and improvement of his tower, and he couldn’t be more grateful, but he longs for the out. It looks absolutely magical from here, and Tony wants, more than he’s ever wanted in his life, to know if it feels and smells and sounds as magical as it looks.

(He hopes so. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s not.)

So far, he’s readied himself for everything he needs; he’s got a satchel full of his nicest, most comfy breeches, a small knife, a canteen full of water, and all the food he could stuff into a bag and also carry. It’s somewhat of a long trek to the city and the castle at its edge, but Tony likes to think he’ll walk through fire for just a taste of freedom.

Obie says he’s being unrealistic, and that there are souls waiting for someone kind like him to prey on and attack--Tony shudders to even think about it--and that he was as naive as a child. But...he turns 18 in two days. He’s not a child. And besides, what’s learning without hands-on experience? The only thing he’s missing is a guide.

Fortunately, it’s like fate hears him and sends him help.

Tony was just finishing up his final touches to the pulley that’ll take him down to the ground when Obie comes rattling up the side of the tower, held by--something. Tony doesn’t know what exactly or he’d’ve taken advantage by now, but he does know it’s Obie’s way to get himself in and out--and to keep Tony stuck.

“Obie?” Tony calls curiously when there’s no shout. Obie did love an entrance, and he’d always, always, shown up with something grand to announce. “Are you--”

It’s a man. It’s a tall man, with a curious satchel to his side and a striking metal arm. The stranger doesn’t seem to realize he’s there. “Al--”

Thump!

Well, he certainly falls to the ground like a human.

...

The man wakes sluggishly, but when he seems to have his wits about him, he doesn’t seem to...do what a human would do. “Hey,” the man says. “The name’s Bucky Barnes.” Tony flushes down the neckline of his nightgown.

Tony’s not going to wait to play games. “Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my tower?”

The man--Bucky?--sighs. “Alright, I was running from some guys for reasons I refuse to disclose, and I saw this super convenient tower and I climbed it. If anything, it’s your fault.” Tony stares, as if any of that made sense.

“My fault?”

“Okay, maybe not,” Bucky gives. He sighs. “Now, instead of any of this hostage shit, you can untie me and me and my sa—“ he pauses. When he speaks again his voice is frantic and up at least a few notes. “Where is my satchel. Where.”

Tony crosses his arm. “I’ve hidden it,” he says smugly. “Somewhere you’ll never find it.”

Bucky looks to the side. “It’s in the pot isn’t it?” he asks flatly.

It’s a little telling that knocking him out a second time is as pleasurable as the first time.

…

“Now I’ve hidden it,” Tony says. “And you’ll get it back when you do me something.”

Bucky stares at him for a long moment before he sighs irritably in the seat. “Fine. What do you want?”

“I want you to take me to the city and see the floating lights.”

“Floating lights?” Bucky answers his own question. “Right the lantern thing they do on the prince’s birthday. What’s that gotta do with you?”

“I just,” Tony scrubs his hand over his face. “I just-I need to know. I need to know what it’s like. It’s like—something is calling me there, and it’s so loud I can hardly hear myself.”

Bucky stares dubiously. “You want to take me to take you to the city to see the lanterns and bring you back-“

“Safely,” Tony adds.

“Okay, bring you back safely. And then you’ll give me back my satchel?”

“Yes.” Tony gives him a half smile. “But first, I want to know why you are here. Did you-“ he circles Bucky slowly. “Hurt someone?” He brandished the pan, and Jarvis scrambles onto Bucky’s shoulder, hissing. “Did you...vandalize something?” He pauses, pan dipping. “Did you kill someone?” His eyes widen in horror. “Are you here to kill me?!”

“No! Why would I want to kill you? What on Earth would I want to kill you for?” Bucky squints suspiciously, aghast. “Have you done something worth killing for?”

Well that’s not where he was expecting this to go. “No! I haven’t-I’ve never left this tower before in my life,” he admits.

“You’ve never left,” Bucky repeats flatly. “Never. Never ever.”

Tony shakes his head. “It’s to keep me safe. Obie-Obie said that people outside would love to hurt someone like me, and I’m too naive and silly to stop.”

“Well,” Bucky says, and his voice is oddly kind. “I don’t think you’re silly or naive.”

Tony smiles halfheartedly. “I tied you to a chair, what do you care?”

“That’s the point, doll. You reacted to a threat quickly, efficiently and secured the threat. That’s a skill that most grown men still don’t have.”

“I’m not silly?” Tony’s voice is smaller than he wants it to be.

“Not really, princess. I don’t know this-this Obie person is, but he’s wrong about you.”

Tony sniffs and wipes his nose. “Princess?”

“Y’know.” Bucky gestures to his whole being tucked into a soft red dress, his feet bare. Tony knows there are flowers in his hair. He refuses to be ashamed about it. There is nothing wrong with taking delight at life’s softer pleasures; there’s not so many in a tower. Tony is going to live his life the way he wants to live his life, and he refuses to listen to a somewhat haughty man with a man bun tied to a chair, despite how kind he’d just been.“You look like a fairy. Harmless.” Bucky still winks infuriatingly. “Adorable.”

“Adorable?” Tony puts his hand on his hip and cocks one eyebrow. “Who brained you and tied you to a chair?” He doesn’t wait for a response, feeling emboldened. “Oh right, the fairy.”

“Brained?” Bucky sounds miffed, and Tony feels a spark of tenuous pleasure at the annoyed yet lighthearted bantering. He’d always been too scared to joke with Obie. “Really, princess?”

“It’s true,” Tony retorts before brandishing the frying pan at him again. “Do we have a deal or not?”

Bucky sighs heavily. “Sure we do princess. Now shake on it?”

“With what space? Your hands are tied up.”

Bucky’s grin is shit-eating. “You’re gonna haf’ to let me go eventually.”

...

Tony watches Bucky grunt as he goes down the stairs. “Alright princess,” Bucky shouts. “Your turn to climb down. Just take it slow--WHAT THE FUCK.”

Tony shouts all the way down, clutching the rope and the pulley as Jarvis clutches to the straps of his dress like his life depends on it. Well, he is the size of Tony’s palm. It sort of did. The wind rushes through his hair, and the roar is the most satisfying noise he’s every before-wait. He stops nothing but a bare whisper to the ground. It’s--frightening to be so close yet so far and yet Tony can’t bring himself to articulate his fears.

“Well?” Bucky’s voice is unexpectedly soft. “You can do it.”

It’s soft, is Tony’s first thought. His toes wiggle. It’s also very green.

And then it all seems to come rushing out of him, spilling like an overflowing bucket in a graceless torrent.

“Bucky! It’s so soft!” His thumbs rub over the blades of grass like they were more precious than any of the jewelry Obie had gifted him. His anklet clinks as he taps his feet excitedly. He doesn’t know why he was so scared just a moment ago. In hindsight, even if it hurt like a thousand tiny knives, it would’ve been the best thing ever anyway. Tony has never been so glad to not see something handmade. “It’s so green!”

“I know doll,” Bucky drawls. “I’ll wait until you’re done touchin’ grass though.”

Tony can’t even bring himself to be miffed at his lovely new tour guide’s attitude and bounces on bare feet towards--towards--

Tony doesn’t know, and that fierce unknowing makes him happier than being safe ever could.

Unbeknownst to him, the hard lines of Bucky’s face soften the slightest bit.

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #winteriron fic #soft winteriron #au august 2020 #if you like please please reblog

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storytell · 5 years ago

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@karamiiatta asked

Tell me about Nice Holystone and Maria Barcelito!

NICE HOLYSTONE

their general personality: an explosives enthusiast with an affinity for making bombs, nice holystone is actually.. generally a polite and composed person. she’s one of the more mature members of jacuzzi’s gang (although she tends to get a little reckless when bombs are involves), and a lot of the members of the gang tend to refer to her as an older sister due to the responsible attitude she tends to take on. she’s very polite towards the other gang members, except for jacuzzi, who she’s casual with at his request. she’s got a tendency to tease him and push him out of his comfort zone a little, but she always genuinely has his best interests in mind.

their hobbies: making bombs. that’s definitely her biggest hobby. aside from that, there’s not really anything else that could count as a hobby due to the responsibility that helping jacuzzi lead a gang takes. unless you count “blowing things up” and “wrangling the younger members of the gang” as hobbies.

things they like: bombs, explosions, jacuzzi, and interestingly enough, she actually really likes kids and would love to have kids of her own someday once things have quieted down enough (she does end up having some later down the line in mainverse, actually).

things they dislike: honestly? the only thing that’s coming to mind is judgmental people. obviously, though, she dislikes naturally bad things such as kidnapping and murder, but she’s not as opposed to killing people as jacuzzi is. she’s okay with killing BAD people. with bombs.

some things people do that annoy them: something that really gets on her nerves is when people comment on her scars in a degrading way. she used to be really insecure about them, but now she’s pretty proud to have them, and people saying she’s somehow less for them rubs her wrong. similarly, she gets annoyed when people judge jacuzzi’s sword tattoo.

how easily they form friendships: honestly, pretty easily. chances are that if you haven’t done anything to offend or hurt any of the gang or nice herself, she’ll warm up to you pretty quickly. unless you’re an asshole.

how easily they get crushes: out of the question. since her and jacuzzi became a thing when they were really little, she hasn’t so much as thought about being with anyone else. that being said, her crush on jacuzzi did come pretty quickly, but to be fair they were like. 8.

the kind of person they get along with the best: people who need somewhere to go. it’s mostly jacuzzi that has a tendency to just take people in when they need it, but nice is really good with the people he does take in. she also gets along pretty well with people who are closed off emotionally. she’s pretty good at getting them to open up a little.

the kind of person they get along with the worst: the general spectrum of killers and jackasses.

whether or not they could get along with your muse(s): she’s not that hard to get along with, so she could probably get along well with a good chunk of them. the ones i would specifically pinpoint are tooru, ib, and yosano.

unknown muses. / accepting. ( maria barcelito under the cut! )

MARIA BARCELITO

their general personality: maria is a VERY restless person with a constant urge to do something fun--though it’s important to note that, to her, something fun often means cutting things up with her katanas. she tends to talk a lot, especially when she’s bored, and she says things very bluntly, introducing herself directly as a hired killer on multiple occasions and plainly stating that she cut up a bunch of unnecessary things even knowing she’d get scolded for it. when she’s cutting someone or something up, sometimes she can take on a very frightening aura and begin to laugh uncontrollably.

their hobbies: cutting things up, trying to mimick luck gandor’s drawings, talking, and cooking. she’d also consider her job as sort of a hobby, since she likes it so much.

things they like: cutting things up, swords in general, most people working for the gandor family, having something to do, cute girls. if she can cut something up, she probably REALLY likes it.

things they dislike: guarding the dancers in the jazz hall (it’s really boring), being defeated by someone weaker than her. these are really the only two things that she outwardly doesn’t like.

some things people do that annoy them: the worst thing someone could do, in maria’s eyes, is put themselves down when they’ve got plenty of great things about them. as someone with a lot of confidence, it’s really hard for maria to understand that people DON’T have confidence, and when someone she likes puts themselves down she gets outright frustrated. also she’s really annoyed by people who try and tell her what she can and can’t do.

how easily they form friendships: depending on the type of person, pretty easily! she’s a very amicable person and, while she likes cutting people down, she doesn’t tend to just attack out of the blue if she wasn’t hired to. she’s a lot to handle, though, so it takes a lot of patience to be friends with her.

how easily they get crushes: VERY EASILY. maria is one hundred percent the type of lesbian to see a beautiful lady walking down the street and fantasize about a potential life they could have together for hours on end, or until she sees another beautiful lady. unfortunately, her courting tactics consist of showing people her swords or seriously, genuinely, killing people for her crushes.

the kind of person they get along with the best: anyone with patience. also, anyone who’s just as enthusiastic and immature as she is. she likes people who know how to have fun, but she also likes luck, of all people, so. she’s pretty flexible.

the kind of person they get along with the worst: generally, she doesn’t like people with really haughty attitudes who have nothing to back it up with. for example, she really hates dallas because he’s weak but thinks he’s really strong and tries to attack her friends.. but claire is perhaps the most self-important person in the world and she looks up to him a lot, hoping to be strong enough to cut through him one day, because he has the strength and ability to back his comments up.

whether or not they could get along with your muse(s): generally, she’s very hit-or-miss when it comes to getting along with other muses. some muses i think she MIGHT get along with are nejire, gogol, fukuzawa, and belkia.

#her SISTER was a WITCH! RIGHT? ;; OOC #there is nowhere that i would rather be ;; HEADCANONS . NICE #lose and find your confidence along the way ;; HEADCANONS . MARIA #karamiiatta

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ponyoscenarios · 6 years ago

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➳Not thinking about you pt2 // Kim Junkyu

Okay part two is finally here omg. I had soo much trouble with this but here it is fINALLY! I hope you enjoy it♡

PART 1

Breaking up with you wasn’t the only thing Junkyu did wrong, and now after he realizes his mistakes, he tries to make things right.

Hyunsuk and Yedam flinched at the sound of a door being slammed.

“What’s his problem now?” mumbled Hyunsuk not looking up from his phone.

“Do you think it has something to do with Y/N?” asked Yedam worried, his eyes glued to Junkyu’s bedroom door.

“They probably fought again” answered Hyunsuk nonchalantly “I have no idea how has she not broken up with him by now, he’s been so obnoxious lately”

Lately Junkyu had become someone unrecognizable. His behaviour started changing for worse and it didn’t go unnoticed by his team members. The lively and mood lifting Junkyu everybody remembered was now just part of the past; lately he had become haughty, disdainful and disrespectful. He would ignore his friends, didn’t follow curfews, and over all was annoyed by everyone and everything. This brought a lot of trouble with the rest, specially Hyunsuk; being one of the eldest, he wanted everyone to get along well and since they had been with each other for so long he wanted it to feel like family, but with Junkyu’s attitude it was impossible to achieve.

“Junkyu, is there anything that’s bothering you?” Countless times they had initiated this conversation and countless time they had gained nothing from it.

“No Seunghun, I already told you” answered Junkyu dryly getting up from his seat and walking towards his room.

“Junkyu” he tried again “we can’t continue like this, what is it? Did we do something wrong?” he stepped in front of the younger boy blocking his way.

“I said no, just leave me alone” persisted Junkyu, walking past Seunghun and bumping into his shoulder on the way.

“It’s impossible with him” sighed Seunghun turning to the rest.

“I’m so annoyed by him” exclaimed Hyunsuk rolling his eyes.

It’s not that he tried to be this way, it just happened. He didn’t want the rest of the boys to see him this vulnerable. None of them knew about his breakup and he didn’t want them to, Junkyu knew they would just pity him or make him talk to you about it, and his pride couldn’t take it. He found some sort of comfort in being alone, but it also meant that sometimes he felt lonely without you, and whenever his mind betrayed him he resorted to checking your social media pages. It became an unhealthy and confusing habit. On one hand he always ignored the texts you sent him; you wanted to know his reasons behind breaking up, you wanted to know if there was something bothering him, you still cared about him, but he never answered them, you wanted him to remember old feelings and he didn’t want that; and on the other hand, he would constantly check up on you, he knew it was incredibly selfish but he didn’t want to see you happier without him, and by your lack of posts and the pitiful captions you wrote on some, he knew you weren’t and that pleased him.

“Guys you have to see this” exclaimed Byunggon handing the phone to Yedam, while Doyoung and Jihoon watched over his shoulder.

Jihoon gasped after reading a text you had sent to Byunggon “Is this why he’s been so sensitive?”

“He had been this way for a while now, so I don’t think so” responded Yedam shaking his head.

“Why didn’t he say they broke up?” asked Doyoung feeling worried for his friend.

Byunggon shrugged “Who knows, maybe he doesn’t want us to know, Y/N said he didn’t even tell her why, he just broke it off”

“That’s weird, they seemed happy together” added Jihoon trying to think what could’ve gone wrong between you two.

“Do we tell him we know?” asked Yedam cautiously.

“Let’s not to, he’ll tell us when he’s ready” answered Byunggon exiting from your chat and locking his phone.

The following days everyone tried to be as careful as possible when it came to Junkyu, they knew he was going through a hard time even if he didn’t show it. To him it was best if he acted as if nothing had happened, he thought the rest didn’t know so it was easier for him to continue as usual, or as he had been lately.

He assured himself he didn’t miss you but there were times in which something would remind him of you and a weird and unpleasant feeling washed over him so he realized that to completely forget about you and any regrets he might have he had to distract himself with other things. So he became extra obsessive with his career. His days consisted mainly on waking up late, skipping breakfast so he could avoid the rest of the boys, going to the company, working on stuff by his own, practicing with the rest and then going back to the dorm and locking himself up and only going out when Chaewon begged him to.

Junkyu knew it wasn’t healthy the way he was coping up with the breakup but he told himself there was nothing to be sad about. He had broken up with you because he was bored, he was busy, the spark faded, you changed, he had a million reasons to do it and it was for the best. He didn’t miss you either, he had everything he had ever wanted, there was no time for a pathetic relationship with someone who didn’t understand him.

One evening as he was checking your instagram as usual he came across a new post. It was a picture of you, Hani and two other girls he probably met but couldn’t be bothered to remember.

‘To new beginnings’ your caption read and he scoffed at how ridiculous that sounded.

“Yeah right” he mumbled to himself annoyed “as if she could forget about me” and as he continued reading the comments from your friends something inside him hurt.

‘You deserve to be happy Y/N’ ‘We didn’t like him anyway’ ‘You’re worth so much more’

A single tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it immediately, there was no way he could miss you. But the longer he stared at your face the harder the pain in his chest become. Your smile looked so genuine and happy, and he wasn’t the one causing it anymore.

It took him six months to face the consequences, but better late than never. Doubt started clouding his mind and he started questioning his decision, was it for the best to break up with you? Of course, he needed to. But why wasn’t he feeling any better? Maybe he needed more time to process the situation. It had been a long relationship, he couldn’t move on that fast, his feelings were normal, he read that after a breakup people would obviously want to be back together, but he had to be stronger and not call you back. But then again, you were already moving on and that wasn’t part of his plan.

He concluded that he needed to see you. He didn’t want you to move on yet, and if you saw him maybe you’d fall back again for him, not that he cared about your feelings but he couldn’t take that you were moving on this fast. But he couldn’t go alone, it was too risky.

“Hi, are you busy right now?” he said nervously through the phone.

“No, why?”

“Let’s go somewhere, I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes, don’t make me wait” he said hanging up with trembling hands.

He made sure he looked perfect, he wore your favorite clothes on him and that one perfume you loved on him. He wanted you to remember every single moment you’d had together and how much you loved him, he needed you to be there for him, even if he wasn’t giving you anything in return.

“I told you not to make me wait” he said annoyed as Chaewon got on the car.

“I was only two minutes late, God, relax” she said rolling her eyes and looking out the window “why did you wanted to out anyway? You’re such in a bad mood”

He ignored her and kept looking forward as he drove. The whole ride he was tense and anxious, and Chaewon worried about him. She knew she was his only friend lately and as difficult as he might act sometimes she knew he needed someone by his side and she was more than willing to be right beside him.

“We came all the way here just for coffee?” she groaned looking at the store displeased and then back at Junkyu who was frozen in his seat.

“Well” Chaewon sighed “let’s go, what are you waiting for?” “Oh yeah sure” answered Junkyu coming back to his senses.

He entered the store as calmed and collected as possible, but he was feeling the complete opposite inside, this really was a bad idea.

As he looked up to the counter he was half disappointed but half satisfied.

A brand new face he didn’t recognize greeted him.

“Hi, welcome, what can I get you?” a messy haired boy said brightly.

“It’s too late to get coffee” said Chaewon analyzing the menu “I want a salted caramel hot chocolate, what about you Junkyu?”

He stared at the menu hanging in front on them a little bit too long before answering.

“Can I get an iced americano and…” he scanned the place and turned to looked at the empty table right at the back. The place hadn’t changed at all, everything was as he remembered, it hadn’t been that long since the last time he was here, but everything about him had changed. He stared at his table, the one he always sat at, the one where everything had started. Sometimes he regretted choosing that coffee shop instead of the many others around. Things would’ve been so different then. “Do you have lemon macarons by chance?” he said finally turning to the new boy again.

“Of course” he answered smiling “they’re one of our best options, okay I’ll get you your order in a few minutes, have a seat”

As they went to take a seat Junkyu’s eyes lingered on his table, he didn’t dare to sit there, too much had happened in that place and it felt wrong to go back just like that.

“Why are you acting so weird?” She asked thankfully taking a seat on another table.

A knot began forming in his throat. Being at the coffee shop after so long made him realize that maybe he actually was happy once and he took it for granted. He remembered the times he would watch you work and he would write songs about you but he would always be too shy to show them to you, and now he regretted it, there was so much you never knew.

He scanned the place once again but he couldn’t see you anywhere, maybe you didn’t work here anymore. Maybe this place brought too many memories and old feelings to you and it was hard to take it. He smiled at that thought. Somehow it felt good to think about you missing him. He liked the idea of you remembering little details about him, or seeing something and be reminded of him, or cooking his favorite dishes when you felt lonely. He knew it was wrong but he enjoyed the idea of you still being head over heels for him even if he had moved on. And he had, there was no doubt about it, he probably moved on too quickly, when you were still dating.

“Y/N” a voiced exclaimed behind them.

On instinct he turned around. His heart started pounding inside his chest. He didn’t see you anywhere though, it was just the guy from before furiously wiping something off the counter, but just as he tried to convince himself he had heard wrong, you walked out of the kitchen.

You looked just like the last time he saw you, but with shorter hair, he knew you had cut it though, he checked your instagram often. Your eyes looked sadder, it wasn’t hard to notice, people say the eyes are the windows to the soul and Junkyu haven’t met anyone who fit that better than you. It was incredibly easy for him to know how you felt just by looking at your eyes and even though he tried to lie to himself and deny that he didn’t care about you anymore, it hurt him seeing you like that.

“Oh my God, Eric” you exclaimed bringing your hands to cover your mouth as you laughed “What a mess”

The boy- Eric turned to you with a pout “I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to”

You laughed again at his attempt to stop you from getting angry at him “It’s okay” you responded ruffling his hair and then taking the cloth from him and wiping the counter. “Go make another hot chocolate, I’ll clean this up”

You looked up naturally to apologize to the customers for the delay, and just as you did you locked eyes with Junkyu.

His heart skipped a beat and turned his eyes elsewhere. His face felt hot and he was uncomfortable. Chaewon noticed the weird exchange but didn’t say anything.

You couldn’t say you weren’t feeling anything. Your chest felt tighter and a knot formed inside your throat. You just wanted to get out of there.

“I’m sorry for the delay” you barely managed to say looking at your hands. “We’ll serve you your order in a while” you finished and almost ran inside.

“What’s wrong?” exclaimed Hani who was taking a break inside the kitchen, upon seeing you crying.

You shook your head unable to speak. “He’s here” you finally muttered.

Hani rose from her seat while Eric looked at both of you confused.

Hani peaked through the door and gasped as she turned to you.

“And he had the nerve to bring another girl in here, oh he’s dead” she exclaimed walking out outraged.

“Don’t” you stopped her grabbing her by her wrist “it’s not worth it, Hani”

“But he owes you an explanation! He can’t just come in here as if nothing has happened, it’s not fair”

“I don’t care, let him be” you shrugged

“Yeah right you don’t care, why are you crying then?” She pointed out and you wiped your tears immediately.

She got loose from your hold and grabbed the tray with Junkyu’s and Chaewon’s order.

She walked out the kitchen and towards them.

“Here’s your order, a salted caramel hot chocolate for the lady, and lemon macarons and an iced americano for a cheating bastard” and as she said those words she poured the entire cup in Junkyu’s head.

Junkyu rose to his feet immediately and looked at Hani furiously as coffee was dripping through his hair.

Chaewon gasped and brought her hands to cover her mouth.

“What’s your problem?” exclaimed Junkyu stepping closer to Hani trying to intimidate her, but he didn’t know Hani better, she was never intimidated.

“My problem is you! Why would you come here after what you did? Don’t you have any shame?” You wanted to stop her from causing any more trouble but you couldn’t do it.

“I’m so sorry sir, we’ll get you another coffee, Y/N bring out a towel for him to clean himself” Eric spoke fastly clearly flustered while pulling Hani back. He didn’t know Junkyu as he started working there a while after Junkyu started distancing himself so he didn’t know Hani’s reasons.

Seeing you didn’t move from your spot he called you again. But you didn’t want to move, it was childish and all but in a way he deserved it.

Junkyu turned his eyes from Hani to you and his glance softened. He was embarrassed, hurt, angry, too many emotions came to him at once.

He now realized how you saw him. He realized you thought he had broken up with you over another girl but that wasn’t the case, he could have never done that to you.

But now it didn’t matter, he was too angry. He took Chaewon’s hands and exited the coffee shop.

“Oh my God, Junkyu why did you let that happen?” exclaimed Chaewon panicked.

He took of his jacket and tried to clean up his face ignoring Chaewon’s questions.

“Why did she even do that? And she called you a cheating bastard, were you dating her?”

Junkyu rolled his eyes at her “Can’t you just shut up? I’m not in the mood for it” “You’re never in the mood for anything” spoke Chaewon crossing her arms and looking somewhere else. “Why did you even bring me to your girlfriend’s work, that’s not cool, were you trying to make her jealous? It didn’t work obviously” she laughed as she remembered how that girl drenched Junkyu in coffee.

Junkyu glared at her “If you keep laughing I’ll leave you here” he said walking to his car.

Chaewon shrugged and got in.

Unfortunately for him, when he arrived at the dorms he was welcomed by the lively chatter from his team members coming from the living room and he was not in the mood for it.

He just wanted to go to his room and not hear a word from anyone but his friends had other plans.

“Hey Junkyu where were you?” asked Doyoung greeting his friend with a smile.

Junkyu rolled his eyes “Out” he responded not stopping to talk to anybody.

“Junkyu come here” spoke sternly Hyunsuk standing up from the couch.

Junkyu stopped and turned to his friend, “What?”

Hyunsuk usually let Junkyu’s behaviour slide but he always found it to be annoying, but tonight he wasn’t having it.

“I have no idea what you’re going through right now, but it doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking asshole to everyone” said Hyunsuk stepping closer to his younger friend.

Junkyu scoffed. “What I’m going through is not yours or anybody else’s business so stay out of it”

“I don’t care about it, my only problem is that you keep making everyone uncomfortable, so you learn how to behave or..”

“Or what?” asked Junkyu insolently while pushing Hyunsuk back.

Hyunsuk laughed in disbelief, he couldn’t believe what Junkyu was doing.

Seunghun stood up and stepped in front of them trying to stop a future fight but Hyunsuk pushed him out of the way.

“Or I’ll have to teach you how to” he said pushing Junkyu.

Hyunsuk knew this wouldn’t end too well for him, Jukyu towered over him, but he had to put him in his place.

As Hyunsuk pushed him, Junkyu pushed him even harder and that’s how it became a mess.

Hyunsuk threw a punch straight to Junkyu’s face and hit him hard, making Junkyu’s lip bleed a little. Junkyu then threw another punch to Hyunsuk stomach, and more punches and shoves came. Everybody else, alarmed, tried to separate them but they ended up being pushed around, and earning a couple of punches themselves.

Junkyu managed to untangle himself from the mess and walked out the dorms.

Everybody just watched him walk away quietly.

“Hyunsuk that wasn’t the right way to do it” spoke Byunggon running a hand through his hair.

“He asked for it” answered Hyunsuk wiping the blood from his lip with his shirt and walking towards the bathroom.

As Junkyu walked out of the dorms, he realized he had nowhere to go. He started walking aimlessly until he saw a convenience store.

He walked in and received weird glances from the people inside due to they way he looked.

He hung his head low avoiding contact with everybody. He quickly grabbed a water bottle and tissues and headed outside after paying.

He wet the paper and dabbed it on his lip. He flinched at the contact and cursed Hyunsuk under his breath. Junkyu didn’t like the way it had turned out but he was too angry at his friend to feel sorry.

He continued walking and started thinking about everything that had gone wrong that day.

You didn’t want him anymore, he got a coffee spilled over his head, he got into a fight with one of the most important people in his life and now he was wandering around, it was too dark and cold and he regretted not buying anything to eat at the convenience store because he was really hungry.

He sat on a bench and pulled out his phone. He sighed as he opened up his gallery and stared at all the pictures of you he still kept.

Maybe it was because he felt extremely lonely and needed someone to talk to but he didn’t even realize when he dialed your number.

“Junkyu?” You spoke softly and it seemed you had just woken up.

“Hi” he answered and you could barely hear him.

“It’s almost 2am why are you calling?” you answered the phone out of habit but now you realized you shouldn’t had.

“I…” a knot formed on his throat stopping him from talking. He just wanted to cry, to apologize to you about everything, he needed your comfort, he missed you so much. But somehow he couldn’t say a word.

“Junkyu if you don’t have anything to say, let me sleep” of course you didn’t want to hang up but a part of you was just done with him.

“I’m sorry” he whispered before hanging up.

Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he felt too hurt to stop them. He had fucked up big time and now he would never get a chance to make it right. And not only was he a jerk to you but to his friends as well. He didn’t know how he’ll go to the dorms and face them after what just happened. It was better for him to stay where he was, or maybe go to a hotel and stay there for a while. Maybe he might even have to leave the group, he was too much of a hassle for everyone.

He was trying to think of a plan when his phone started ringing nonstop, he turned his phone off after seeing it was his team members. He was too embarrassed to answer.

An hour had just passed but it felt like so much more to him when he heard someone screamed his name from across the street.

He stood up and realized it was Hyunsuk.

Hyunsuk ran to him and engulfed him in a hug.

“You’re such a dumbass Junkyu” he exclaimed not breaking the hug.

Seeing his friend cry made Junkyu cry as well.

“I’m so sorry Hyunsuk” he said hugging his friend tighter.

“I know, I shouldn’t have been so hard on you” Hyunsuk responded smiling to Junkyu. “Now let’s go, everybody’s worried about you”

Junkyu smiled embarrassed. He hated to be a problem to the rest.

When he arrived at the dorms he was met by Jihoon who as soon as he saw him threw himself into Junkyu.

“Where’s everybody else?” Asked Hyunsuk sitting down.

“They’re not here yet” answered Jihoon breaking the hug.

“Where were they?” Questioned Junkyu but he already knew the answer.

“Looking for you, you idiot” exclaimed Jihoon slapping him.

When everybody came Junkyu properly apologized for how things have been, he told them what he had been feeling and that there was no excuse for his behavior but he felt terribly sorry.

Everybody knew of course but they were glad Junkyu finally decided to trust them with it.

“Why did you even run away?”

“I felt too embarrassed and angry, Doyoung” answered Junkyu as he played with his fingers still not feeling completely comfortable with the whole situation.

“You have to trust us” added Byunggon patting Junkyu on the back. “We’re a family”

“I know that” answered Junkyu rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, I felt that if nobody else knew then it wasn’t real”

“So you still miss her?” Asked Yedam carefully.

Junkyu smiled bitterly. “Yeah I guess I do”

“She was the one who called us, you know” added Jihoon walking towards the kitchen.

Junkyu suddenly sat up and turned to him with wide eyes. “She did?”

“Yeah, we were going to give you some space but then she called and said she was worried something was wrong” explained Byunggon “so we went out to look for you”

Junkyu tried to refrain a smile. It felt nice to think that you still cared about him.

“Did you call her?” asked Seunghun softly.

Junkyu looked at the floor shyly. “Yeah I did, I wanted to apologize for everything”

“You wanted to apologize to her first than to us” joked Hyunsuk playfully rolling his eyes.

“No it’s just” started Junkyu being cut off by his friends’ laughter.

“I’m just joking, I know you probably have A LOT to apologize for when it comes to Y/N” added Hyunsuk.

“Actually” began Junkyu unsure if he should mention it. “I went to see her”

Everybody looked at him in shock.

“when?” exclaimed Yedam.

“Yesterday, when I arrived I was coming from her work”

“And did you talk to her?” asked Jihoon walking back in and looking completely engrossed in the story.

“No” responded Junkyu fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Something happened and I couldn’t”

“What happened?” asked Seunghun concerned.

“Uh, her friend might have drop a coffee on me”

The rest of the guys did not even try to contain their laughter.

“Well, honestly you deserved it” said Jihoon laughing.

The following days were better thanks to the support from the rest of the boys; Junkyu began feeling good, he slowly started becoming the person he used to be, before the break up, before debut; the cute light hearted boy who managed to make everyone laugh. And now his bond with the rest of the members went back to the way it was before or even stronger, and for that he was immensely grateful; it finally felt like a family again. He was aware that his only responsibilities were being a good team member and being happy for his fans.

He also decided it was time to take risks he had been too afraid to take before. One thing he had always wanted to do but kept it to himself, apparently for too long, was being more participative when it came to the production of their songs. He had always wanted to help write lyrics, he loved that but there was always a little speck of insecurity holding him back. But it felt like the right time to do so.

Junkyu realized now how wrong he had been when he thought he had to to keep himself so busy there would be no time to think about you, since that was never the case. There were times he would be on stage, trying to focus on his performance but his mind was set on you, or he would be practicing but the only think he could think of was your face.

“What is it Junkyu?” asked Yedam sitting up in his bed as Junkyu entered his room hesitantly.

“I wanted to show you something” answered Junkyu shyly “I’ve been working on something and I think I could show it to you” he said giving his notebook to Yedam.

Yedam scanned each page carefully, reading everything while a smile threatened to appear on his face. He was beyond proud Junkyu had finally gained enough confidence to show what he worked on.

“They’re really good, this one specially” said Yedam pointing at a certain page Junkyu was unfortunately too familiar with.

maybe it was us So helpless and young Or maybe everything was all my fault And I regret All the times Of leaving you, in the back of my mind Cause maybe it was me And I just couldn't see But maybe it was me

“Is this about…?” he said softly trying not to sound too intrusive.

“yeah” confessed Junkyu smiling sadly “I guess everything in there is about her in a way”

Yedam nodded empathetically “Are you sure you’d like to use this, isn’t it too personal?” he asked worried for his friend.

Junkyu got lost on his thoughts for a while before answering. “I want her to listen to it”

He waited everyday by his phone after the song was released. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up but he couldn’t help but want you to call him and tell him you heard the song. He didn’t expect anything after that, he just wanted you to know he was aware it had been his fault and that he regretted his decision; that it had been rushed and ridiculous and that was not how he had wanted it to turn out.

“She never called” Junkyu sighed, smiling in disbelief. It had been a month since the single was released and he had not heard anything about you; he could only hope you had listened to it but didn’t want to talk to him.

Hyunsuk patted his back but didn’t say anything, he knew there weren’t any words that could comfort his friend in that moment.

“I have to move on” Junkyu said after a while, running his hand through his hair.

“But do you want to?” pointed out Hyunsuk looking at his friend sympathetically.

Junkyu laughed, but it sounded bitter and hurt. “No I don’t, but I don’t have an option do I?”

He knew it was time to let go of you, it took him some time to realize what a shitty boyfriend he had been, but now there was no use in beating himself up for it. There was no way you could give him another chance, and he accepted it; you deserved so much better, he had always known that.

You deserved someone who could take you out and show you off, someone who could be there for you whenever you felt sad and show up at your doorstep with chocolates and flowers, someone who could share your happy moments and celebrate with you. You deserved a better boyfriend and he wasn’t the one. He needed to let go of you so you could be happy, because that’s all he ever wanted for you. And hopefully you were happier now, without him.

He tried picturing you with someone else, someone better. He tried to be okay while thinking about you looking at someone with the same affection you used to look only at him. He tried imagining you giving all your love and attention to someone new, and he felt incredibly selfish for feeling hurt. He didn’t like it, he didn’t want you with someone who wasn’t him. He spent to much time trying not to think about you, but he didn’t realize that all along you were the only one for him, and he prayed you thought the same way.

“He must have seen this already” whispered Hyunsuk to Byunggon in the kitchen.

Byunggon scratched his head while thinking “He would’ve said something” “Who? What?” chimed in Jihoon walking in.

Hyunsuk hushed him and motioned him to get closer.

Byunggon handed him his phone and Jihoon gasped, “He doesn’t know yet?”

“I don’t think so” responded Byunggon in all seriousness.

“We have to stop him from seeing it” added Hyunsuk trying to form a plan.

“Where is he?” asked Byunggon heading out.

“I think he’s in the bathroom” pointed out Jihoon.

“JUNKYU” screamed Hyunsuk walking towards the bathroom and knocking hard.

“WHAT?” screamed Junkyu back

“What are you doing?” asked Hyunsuk, receiving a slap from Byunggon for his dumb question.

“What do you think?” responded Junkyu sarcastically.

Hyunsuk laughed awkwardly “Oh yeah, just hurry up, OH and do you have your phone there?”

“No? Why?”

“Uh nevermind” added Hyunsuk before running to Junkyu’s room to look for his phone.

“Aha, here!” exclaimed Hyunsuk finally finding it among the mess in his bed.

“What do you plan on doing with it? Hiding it?” asked Byunggon trailing behind Hyunsuk.

“maybe” he said smiling mischievously “or we can smash it” he finished with a shrug.

Byunggon grabbed the phone from his hand. “We are not going to do that” he said lifting the phone up high out of Hyunsuk’s reach while the smaller boy fought for the phone.

“I think it’s for the best that he knows” commented Seunghun as he leaned on the doorframe.

“How do you know?” asked Hyunsuk stopping what he was doing.

“Jihoon told me” Seunghun answered casually.

“PARK JIHOON” exclaimed Hyunsuk and Jihoon walked in with an apologetic smile.

“What?” he wondered acting oblivious.

“We told you not to tell anybody” spoke Hyunsuk.

“No” explained Jihoon “you told me not to tell Junkyu”

“Tell me what?” asked Junkyu walking into his room as the rest fell into silence.

No one wanted to tell him what was happening.

“Well? Oh and why do you have my phone?” he said while taking his phone back from Byunggon’s hand and sitting down in his bed expecting someone to answer his question.

“Well the thing is” began Hyunsuk not knowing how to continue.

“The thing is?”

“The thing is Y/N’s dating someone else” Jihoon confessed while the rest of them look at him in shock and then turn back to see Junkyu’s reaction.

“Oh” exclaimed Junkyu awkwardly. “No, it’s okay” he said standing up “I’m fine don’t worry, it had to happen someday, that’s fine”

“Are you really fine?” asked Byunggon softly.

“Yeah,I’m good” he answered faking a laugh “How did you find out anyway?”

“It’s on her instagram” informed Hyunsuk not wanting to look at Junkyu in the eye.

“Oh, good for her” smiled Junkyu heading out while the rest followed him.

He turned to them and faked another smile. “I’m good guys, really… I’m just going to go for a drive”

“Let me come with you” suggested Seunghun, not thinking that it would be a great idea for Junkyu to drive by himself.

“No thanks, I just need to be alone for a while”

He was calmer than he had imagined he would be. His brain needed time to process what was going on and he didn’t want the rest of the boys there when it happened; it was something he had to do alone.

He just kept driving ahead without thinking where to go, it was until he stopped for a while and realized that he didn’t know where he was. He noticed a convenience store a couple meters away and parked his car there.

He breathed deep several times to calm himself down as his emotions began blooming. He didn’t want to go in looking like a wreck, let alone crying, he needed to calm himself down. He then walked in and headed straight for the snack aisle, maybe some candy or a soda could keep him distracted enough, but he didn’t even wanted to eat or drink anything, his stomach was a tangled mess.

As he stood in front of the snacks deciding what to buy, he noticed someone struggling to reach something off the top shelf, without thinking much he walked up to them to help. He grabbed the bag of chips the person wanted and handed it to them.

He dropped the bag as soon as his eyes turned from it to the person next to them.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he stuttered quickly picking up the bag from the floor.

“No, it’s okay, thanks” you spoke and gave him an awkward smile.

His heart stopped for a second, he missed seeing you smile, even if it was a fake one.

He handed you the bag and you could notice his hands were trembling.

“I-” both of you spoke and then let a forced laugh.

“You go first” he offered.

“I have to go now” you said trying to look somewhere else.

“Oh” he said disappointed “Okay, it was nice seeing you” he said faking a smile.

You nodded and walked away.

He didn’t even notice he was holding his breath until now. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating.

Here you were, just a few steps away from him, he knew it was his moment to apologize, he didn’t expect you to go back to him, he knew you had Eric now, but the least he could do was to apologize for not being the person he had promised you he would be, if you even cared at all.

He grabbed whatever was nearest to him and quickly payed for it. He couldn’t let you walk away again.

He rushed out and noticed you were still in the parking lot.

“Y/N” he called out running towards you but as you turned around to face him he noticed the tears in your eyes.

He walked closer to you and as if on instinct, pressed his forehead to yours while cupping your cheek.

You didn’t push him away, it felt too familiar, you had missed it.

“Can we talk?” he whispered and you noticed his eyes where close, but little did you know it was to keep his tears in, and you just nodded.

He walked you to his car and opened the door for you.

As he went to his side, your brain started working again. It was like when he was around you fell into a spell and couldn’t think straight. You realized maybe getting into his car and talking to him wasn’t the best idea, but fuck it, that was what you had wanted all along.

You noticed how tense and anxious he was as he got in, and honestly you were too. It had been a while you had talked to him and you had not even the slightest idea what could it turn into.

He sighed and looked at you but you couldn’t look at him back so you continue staring at your hands which were in your lap.

“I’m sorry” he spoke softly.

A knot began forming in his throat, he didn’t want to cry in front of you, he didn’t want you to pity him, but it was hard to keep his emotions controlled.

“I’m so sorry” he repeated inching closer and grabbing your hand.

“Why?” you answered getting loose from his hold.

“I’m sorry Y/N” he continued and this time he couldn’t stop the tears, he knew he had hurted you.

You didn’t want him to continue apologizing, it meant nothing to you if you didn’t know which were the reasons behind it.

“But why?” you spoke sternly and he looked at you surprised by your tone.

He looked elsewhere and took a deep breath trying to calm down.

“I thought you were better off without me; everything was too overwhelming; I was too stressed and I guess I took it out on you. I don’t deserve you, I never did” he explained too softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

You wanted to believe him but it sounded too cliché and cowardly. This wasn’t the Junkyu you had fallen in love with.

“But it wasn’t better” he continued looking at you and inching closer “I missed you, I miss you. I was stupid, I can’t live without you Y/N, I miss talking to you all the time, I miss your laugh, I miss making you laugh, I miss your food, I miss our conversations, I miss everything about you” He was too close now, he prayed you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

He cupped your cheek and his face was just inches apart from yours. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. You had missed his touch, his scent, his warmth, if you could you would’ve stopped time right at that moment.

Slowly he leaned in, you could feel his uneven breathing as he got closer and you shut your eyes even tighter as your lips connected.

His lips on yours felt right; they tasted like home. As if you’ve been aching for this moment since the last time you had kissed him. His lips were soft and his kiss made you feel wanted. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach just as the first time.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he deepened the kiss and your hands went to his hair while he caressed your cheek.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered to your lips as he went back in for another kiss, but this time it felt different. Not as innocent and loving as the first one. He pressed his body closer to you even if there was not any more room left.

“Junkyu” you whispered trying to catch your breath but he didn’t want to break the kiss.

“Junkyu” you said again a little bit louder and tried to push him away.

He looked at you confused before realizing what you were thinking.

“I have to go” you said still not fully into your senses while you tried to open the door.

“Don’t” spoke up Junkyu grabbing your hand “I can be better for you, I promise you” tears started rolling down his cheeks as he spoke “I need you in my life Y/N please, stay” he finished looking at you pleadingly.

You knew what you were doing was wrong, you had just started dating Eric and he didn't deserve this. He had been so supportive and nice to you, it made you feel sick to think about what you were doing.

But on the other hand, the only person you had pictured next to for the rest of your life was asking for a second chance. You knew you deserved better than who he had been but he could change, it wasn’t going to be easy but even though you hate admitting it, he still owned your heart and you would drop anything if he asked you too.

After a few minutes of awkward silence you spoke again.

“Junkyu I was wrong.” you said softly not looking at him “I thought for a while I could die if you weren’t by my side” you laughed bitterly “I genuinely thought I needed you to be happy. I was so hurt, I felt betrayed. I waited for you to explain how did you fall out of love, I waited for you to call and say it was a joke, I waited and waited and you never came. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to. I faced the fact that maybe you weren’t the one for me. I tried to move on but I couldn’t, until one day it just happened. You weren’t the first thing on my mind one morning, and I knew it was over. And it’s not that I deserve someone better because in my eyes, you’re still the best.” your eyes were full of tears and he was still holding on to your hand.

You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“But you made that choice for a reason.You thought you were better off without me and that’s enough for me to know I should let go. I will probably regret this once I leave but I’ll not regret it five years from now.” you finally said pulling your hand away from his and opening the door.

“Y/N please”Junkyu whispered and you could see it in his eyes he was just as hurt as you were but you had made up your mind.

You shook your head. “It’ll be better this way Junkyu” you finished with a smile. A genuine one this time. You were thankful for the good memories you shared but it was time to have a proper goodbye.

As you walked home you were breaking inside. You wanted to run back to him and tell him you took back everything you said. You wanted him to hold you closer. But you fought it back. It had been hard to let him go the first time because you didn’t want to, but it was different this time.

You didn’t want him back in your life.

A/N: “Junkyu’s song” is actually Sody’s Maybe it was me btw, check her out! Also, I’ve never broken up with someone soo I’m sorry if it doesn’t sound very accurate lmao.

Thanks for liking the first part btw! It means a lot to me♡

#kim junkyu #yg treasure box #ygtblbr #ygtb scenarios #ponyoscenarios #ygtb #yg entertainment #scenarios #imagines #choi hyunsuk #bang yedam #lee byunggon #kim seunghun #kim doyoung #park jihoon

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wxnnabe · 6 years ago

Note

104/ Abbacchio please uwu 🌸

I hope I got grumpy goth man down right!!

You never thought you would fall for the man who saved your life. While it was a cute cliche, ‘there was no way a man so bitter with his life would ever but anyone’s needs above that of his mission’. He had told you that himself, when you casually noted he was the only friend you’d made in Naples. It bugged you though, that, for all his bitterness and cold attitude, his actions held the complete opposite sentiment. He made sure you got home safe, gave you directions and areas you should probably stay away from in case you had another run in with some less then chirpy company, much like you did on the day you met Abbacchio.

“Until they’re properly dealt with, there gonna keep on causing trouble. And since they saw you with me that night, they’ll give you all sorts of hell,” He avoided your gaze, and shortly bid his goodbye after you thanked him. This had been going on for some time, and you planned on confronting this silent protector of yours. Your protector, however, gave you only a frown and a sneer to your accusations.

“Don’t be dumb.” You blinked, twice. When you detailed the hypocrisy of his actions, you had prepared yourself for him to give up and admit that he cared about people more than he let on. Rather, he had pinned you down in a piercing gaze before repeating himself, his condescending tone not lifting even slightly.

“Don’t be dumb. You’re not a friend, you seriously don’t wanna be friends with someone who has people hunting them down,” He looks like he’s trying to stop from outright cursing you out. When he puts it like that, you can’t deny you do sound kind of stupid. But, still…

“At least admit you don’t see me as some kind of dead-weight,” He gives you a look of of contempt, and you swallow.

“And I’ll drop the conversation completely. I promise,” You add. He seems to ponder for a moment, before nodding and walks a bit further from you.

“Oh, you’re a dead-weight for sure…but your not the worst company I’ve kept, I suppose,” Well. You didn’t know what you were expecting back then. But, through all the persistence and pestering, you actually managed to become friends. That also meant sticking out the days when he would snap at you for saying something sweet to him or even outright ignoring you avoiding you for an unexplained reasons, you were pretty sure he began to see you as a friend, too. It hurt that he did this to you, with no particular explanation, but you figured he wasn’t ready for it just yet. He always apologized, at least.

You had always predicted some sort of horrible tragedy had occurred when he was young. Something that made him cautious of letting people close to him. You didn’t want to say anything to him-he finally looked like he was enjoying your company and not tolerating it. You didn’t want to lose that. But you also deserved an answer to his hot and cold attitude.

“Abbacchio…” You had rehearsed this thousands of times, but you just weren’t sure how to bring it up now that he was looking up from his newspaper, a little annoyed that you’d interrupted him.

“What?” His tone was a little sharper than he intended, you could tell by the way his eyes darted back to the newspaper.

“Well, I…why did you help me?” He looked up from his newspaper with a frown and you continued.

“Why didn’t you just leave me when we first met? I mean, its not like you have a duty to protect me, or something,” You blanched as you saw his eyes darken at your suggestion, and you looked down from his gaze. Hell, he was gripping the newspaper like he was ready to rip it in half, and it takes all of you to not prepare some lame excuse and leave the room out of fear from the reaction you would get. After what seems like the longest silence you’ve endured, he sighs, and calls out your name to get your eyes.

“Look, I…I really didn’t have to do it,” You give him a nod. He’s talking about it, which is more than he usually does. He turns away from you as he continues.

“I…sometimes I still ask myself why I did it. Why I still…I told you that day, you didn’t want to be my friend. And you don’t,” He glanced back to you, then folded the newspaper up, and gave it one last glance.

“I…shit, I’m no good at this…it wasn’t quite that I didn’t want to be your friend. Its that I…I’m not the company you wanna keep, honestly. I’ve fucked up before.There’s not much that’s stopping that from happening again, to be quite honest,” You looked away from him for a moment to gather your thoughts.

He was afraid, then. That’s why he’d been pushing you away, why he was so harsh to you despite all the protection he had given to you. Afraid that you would get hurt; you can imagine why. It was, in fact, something you had doubted yourself. Becoming friends with a mafioso meant you would be wearing a price on your head. I’ve fucked up before…what did he go through that had him so afraid to let anyone near him again? Maybe it was better you not ask.

Now that you knew, though, it gave you some confidence to approach him on the subject. Abbacchio was your friend, not some intimidating shady figure he showed himself to be. Surely he would understand you weren’t going to bullshit him and run with your tail between your legs.

“That’s not really your decision to make, is it?” He replied to your opening with an incredulous look.

“What?”

“If I want to be friends with you, you really can’t force me against it. You’ve sure tried to dissuade me, but I’m pretty stubborn.” Yes, he was dangerous. You were well aware of that the day you befriended him. That didn’t dissuade you then, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to dissuade you now, despite everything he had put you through.

Unfortunately, the hope you were trying to convey wasn’t quite registering. He instead hung his head at your comment.

“If you’d just listen…” You suddenly grabbed his hand in yours, and he met your annoyed expression with one of shame.

“No, you listen! You really are an insufferable ass sometimes, you know that? It hurt having you turn the cold shoulder for no reason or rhyme, that I couldn’t even bring it up to you when you seemed to be over it. But I have faith in you, Abbacchio. Faith that you will do everything in your power to keep me safe. Faith that one day, you’ll believe and have faith in that too. In yourself. A-And I’ll be damned then leave you alone because your my friend, and I won’t leave you. If that means I have to learn some street smarts along the way, so be it,” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. You were sure that street smarts did little to cover the day to day occurrences within a gang, but at least you wouldn’t an easy target.

Abbacchio blinks, twice, and then turns away and lets out a bated sigh. It’s silent for a while, but he still hasn’t let go of your hand. He gives it a squeeze before he talks again.

“Y'know, I’m kind of glad that you’ve stuck with this insufferable ass. And I’m…No, I apologise for what I’ve done,” You nod at him, and he continues.

“And what I will do. I might not stop avoiding you, or giving you the cold shoulder. But…I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me. You almost remind me of Bruno, in your own stubborn and infuriating way. I,-…well, Bruno says I’ve seemed a little lighter these days. I’m not saying I’m healed-” you tap his hand twice before cutting in.

“Far from it, grinch,” He rolls his eyes at the nickname, and you almost do a double take at the clearly missed jab if it weren’t for the somber mood.

“But I’ll consider your proposition of change,” You give him a stern, playful look as your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“Oh, you’ll do more than that. If you think I’m annoying now, you have no idea how annoyingly insistent I’ll be now you’ve made the commitment,” You loosen your hands and he takes his hand out of yours and groans, pressing his temples. You have to hold in your evil cackle, because you won’t get out of another snarky remark from Abbacchio.

“Bruno will be so over the moon, he’ll want me to introduce you to everyone,” He gives you a hopeless look and you can’t help it, you laugh out loud.

“Oh, you make it sound so horrible!” You let out. He replies by turning back to you with a haughty look.

“It is. They’re even worse than you,” Ouch.

Maybe it was that look in Abbacchio’s eyes, that hope that-maybe he could come to terms with whatever happened-not to fix himself, but to realise that the person he was had never truly left in the first place. There was something about that look, you knew, that made it impossible for you to not fall in love with him. Out of respect for his strength, and admiration for facing the demons of his past. Hell, you’d love him even if he failed, if he turns to face them one day and looses the courage he has today. You know that you would love this man regardless.

You look briefly to where Abbacchio had left to pour the tea you had prepared before your chat. Here you were, falling for your friend. The one you only moments before called an insufferable ass. Hopefully his friends weren’t really as horrible as he was marking them up to be.

#leone abbacchio #hhh I hope I got his character right???#It's supposed to read as them being really close friends #so I tried to make the time lapse in between v vague skeofifbr #I think you would have bumped into Bruno a bit!!#Bruno is so proud of abba #cue that happy Proud Mum face he has w narancia last ep bc he is also super happy for abba #usobferf rekf anyways I'm gonna go. Take care of myself now jsdbfborwbfr #writing.prompt

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laschatzi · 7 years ago

Text

A Part Of Something

summary: a post-3x20 canon divergence where Zelena’s portal never opens. Just when Emma has made up her mind about a possible future for herself and Henry in Storybrooke, she discovers that Killian is planning to leave.

rating: G and a bit of A for angst

word count: 7k

also on: ff.net and ao3

“Home is a place, when you leave you just miss it. So yeah, I'm gonna keep running until I feel that.”

“So you're just gonna leave your parents then. Don't you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?” Killian laid as much brokenness and longing as he dared to in his voice.

“Of course I care,” Emma confirmed with honesty and regret in her eyes. “I just have to do what's right for me and Henry.”

So that was it. She simply wasn't ready yet, was still too afraid to accept. He knew what he had to do. Deliberately putting some physical distance between them, he leaned back a little, only a twitching muscle in his jaw betraying his tension. “Well, then,” he replied in a controlled voice, “Of course you have to do what you have to do.” Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise, his sudden surrender completely unexpected. He tilted his head. “Who knows, maybe you'll find what you're searching for when you leave.”

She was a little confused that he seemed to simply give up, and she was also confused that she felt strangely about that... she told herself she wasn't disappointed, just surprised. “Thank you,” she managed to cover it up. “For understanding.”

The exchange is still wavering through her mind the next day, yet Emma's steps are determined when she's on her way to the Mayor's mansion. She's parked her car a few blocks away, and she's walking, wanting to take the opportunity to sort her thoughts, the mess of emotions that have been running through her veins for the last 24 hours. She's made a decision that still weighs heavy on her, and she needs that walk to calm her nerves before she talks to Regina about it.

It's not like she's changed her mind – she's still planning to do what's best for her son, and that's exactly what she's about to tell Henry's other mom. Again, Hook's words reverberate in her head, because of fucking course he always has to offer his unsolicited advice. What's best for him... or for you? he asked, his piercing blue eyes searching hers. Why are you so scared of staying? he probed, I think it's because you can see a future here, a happy one. She had no other answer than to rebuff him rudely and avoid to give an honest answer otherwise, but now isn't the time for avoidance, not with her son's future on the line. And the thought of her son's future is what, in the end, tipped the scales.

When Emma finally arrives at the Mayor's mansion she searches her soul one last time, but she finds that she's sure about her decision, and so she raises her hand to knock. Before her knuckles touch the wood, however, the door opens, and much to her bewilderment, she finds herself face to face with Hook of all people.

Completely taken aback, she lets out a little gasp and almost stumbles a step backwards. “What are you doing here?” she blurts out.

His expression looks about as shocked as she feels, and he licks his lips nervously, obviously not really pleased to see her, and the odd thought shoots through her mind that that must be a first. “Swan,” he greets her with a little hesitation in his voice and brings up his hand to scratch behind his ear, another sure sign of his nervousness. “Ah, just a matter of...” he interrupts himself and waves his hand vaguely, “just an information I sought.”

His evasive behavior reminds her very much of how he acted when he was hiding the fact from her that the Wicked Witch had cursed him (his lips, she reminds herself) to have an advantage in defeating the heroes. Her superpower tells her that he isn't exactly lying, but all her tingling senses tell her that he's hiding something from her.

She frowns and eyes him suspiciously. “What could you possibly–”

“Were you looking for me, Miss Swan?” Regina has appeared behind his tall, leather-clad figure, and her impatient, always slightly haughty voice interrupts the awkward exchange. Hook seizes the opportunity to make his exit quickly, after an almost curt head tilt in her direction that doesn't really qualify as a bow by his standards. Emma's clueless gaze follows him, completely baffled. The fact that Hook would hide something from her is deeply unsettling, and she can't suppress the thought that it must be something serious. Something that has to do with him personally, because currently there are no villains in town – at least not that she knows of. She hopes for him to turn around to look at her, so maybe she could read something in his face, but he doesn't, he keeps striding on the sidewalk with long, determined steps.

“Miss Swan?!” Regina's voice rips her from her thoughts, a little louder and more severe now, also cooler than she's been with her lately. Which Emma understands completely, as Henry's other mom is facing the prospect of having to say goodbye to him again, even if it's not a terrible, seemingly forever-goodbye like last time.

She snaps out of it; she'll deal later with Hook. “Yeah,” she replies and stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jeans, “I've come to see you. Do you have a minute?”

Regina huffs, her attitude a little exaggerated, but she steps aside. “Well, I was getting ready to leave for your parents' celebration, but as I've already been disturbed...”

With a reluctant wave of her hand, she bids Emma inside, but she doesn't offer her to come in further. Emma doesn't blame her.

“I wanted to talk to you about Henry,” she starts and draws a deep breath. Regina waits, but doesn't reply. “I want what's best for him,” Emma assures, “I truly do. And I really believe that he'd be safer in New York... at least safer from stuff like... like... portals and witches and dark magic.” Regina crosses her arms, presses her lips together and says nothing, a dark cloud brewing behind her brows as Emma continues, “And he was happy there, he really was.” Regina looks away, more pained than angry now, and Emma thinks surprisingly fondly that Regina has indeed come a long way: Henry's happiness seems more important to her than anything else. Determined to cut to the chase and not torment the other woman longer than necessary, she finally says what she's come here to say, “But, the thing is... he could never be happy there now, that he remembers.” Regina's dark eyes shoot to hers again. Emma combs her hair behind her ears with booth hands, a little nervous now, because she's about to say this aloud for the first time – there will be no going back from there, she's sworn to herself. “His family, his home... it's here,” she admits, “I can't take that from him.”

Regina unfolds her arms in a slow, controlled move. “Does that mean you're not leaving?” she probes almost sternly, yet unable to keep the hope from seeping into her low voice.

Emma shrugs. “Yeah, well... it's a package deal,” she replies and smiles a little crookedly. “If he's staying, I'm staying. You're not getting rid of me so soon.” They're past that, but both women aren't too fond of things getting too emotional, and so keeping it on a bantering level seems a good idea.

Regina returns the smile and doesn't forget to raise the sassy eyebrow. “Well, then... welcome to Storybrooke, Miss Swan... Emma,” she adds a little stiffly.

Emma snorts a little laugh, somehow relieved that she's brave enough to stick to her decision and take that step. “Thanks.” She clears her throat. “About Henry...”

Regina waves her off. “We can figure out something once you've settled in for good.” Emma nods, and Regina suggests, “You might want to spread the news as soon as possible... someone's particularly interested in that topic.” She purses her lips in an ironic smile and adds, “Annoyingly so.” Emma frowns, and Regina rolls her eyes. “I'm talking about Captain Guyliner, of course,” she clarifies dryly. “He's been quite out of sorts since–”

“Hook,” Emma interrupts pensively, but without commenting on his particular interest Regina was so eager to point out, “right. What was he even doing here earlier?” she asks. “What did he want?”

Regina huffs. “Not that it's my job to play Cupid, but–“ She flicks her wrist up to cut off Emma's protest and continues, “He was indeed seeking a bit of information from me. Or, advice, if you want.”

Emma is even more confused. “Advice?” she echoes. “Advice on what?”

“Why don't you just ask him yourself?” Regina retorts impatiently.

But Emma doesn't relent. “Regina, what's up?” she inquires firmly. “Advice on what?”

Regina rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed now. “On leaving town,” she answers reluctantly.

Emma thinks she's heard wrong. “What?!”

“That's enough,” Regina snaps, “I've already said too much.” She takes three quick steps past Emma and opens the door again, nodding sharply towards the exit. “Go talk to your boyfriend and sort it out by yourself.”

“He's not my–“

“Alright, Emma,” she cuts her off gruffly, “whatever you say. Just go.”

She's almost running the few blocks to her car. On her way to the docks, because where else would he be, she's rough with her beloved yellow bug, slamming the door and thrusting in the gears. Her grip on the wheel is so hard that her knuckles turn white. Everything about her seems to be stiff and square and hard – the set of her shoulders, the tight line of her lips. She's furious, and she doesn't even know why. No, wait – she knows why. Her instincts were right – he's hiding something from her, so that's not what shocks her. But what he's hiding is like a sucker punch. Leaving town. He's sought Regina's advice for leaving town. Leaving her. After all his pestering her, roasting her about her plans, accusing her of running away... and now he's turning his back on her, the one she'd never thought would leave her side...

Emma frowns and briefly shakes her head, chastising herself for her thoughts. It's not like he owes her anything, is it? But then, he was the one talking about a future, a happy future he accused her of being afraid of... Let me guess, with you? she snapped at him, and he didn't have the opportunity to answer her. But the way he was constantly at her heels, flinging innuendos her way, flirting, comforting and supporting her, being always there when she needed him... she really thought it meant something. She really thought she meant something.

What the actual fuck, she thinks, don't even go there, girl. It doesn't matter what she means to him, she doesn't even know what he means to her. It would be stupid to deny that he does mean something to her, of course he does. Of course I care. She can admit that much, she does care for him. Weirdly enough, thinking of who he is and how they met, he's become a friend, her best friend, if she doesn't count blood relatives. Her best friend, yes. Further than that – she hasn't ever thought, hasn't dared to think. And it hasn't been necessary to figure it out, to figure out what exactly it is between them, that trust, that spark, that... affection. She barely has been able to breathe since he brought her back from New York, back into this madness he insists is her home... flying monkeys, lost memories and the Wicked Witch trying to steal her unborn baby brother made it conveniently easy to push the question about her feelings for Hook to the back of her mind and avoid it altogether.

She'd gladly continue to avoid it for a little longer, but obviously she's running out of time, because something's about to happen she never even considered the possibility of: Hook... Killian... leaving. A sinking feeling settles low in her stomach when she thinks he might be already gone, even though she refuses to think he would leave without a word... but then – why wouldn't he? Honestly, everyone in her life she ever cared about has betrayed and abandoned her in the end, at least at some point. Except for Henry. And, well, except for...

Emma slams her foot down on the brake when she arrives at the docks and scans the edge of the water for the figure in black. She spots him not far away, sitting on a bench, looking at the horizon... probably longingly, she thinks; it feels like a stab to her heart, and that's highly unsettling by itself. She can't see his expression because she's approaching him from behind, and the churning in her stomach grows stronger. His fingers are restlessly playing with his flask, but he's not drinking, at least not at the moment.

She raises her chin in determination (about what, she doesn't know), marches up to the bench and slumps down beside him, startling him.

“Swan!” he scolds. “You scared the bloody hell out of me!”

She ignores his complaint and gives him a tight-lipped glare instead. “So, you're still here,” she states unnecessarily, her voice clipped.

He tilts his head and scrutinizes her with narrowed eyes. “Why yes, where would I be?”

“You tell me!” Emma blurts out in ire. “Weren't you gonna leave?”

He closes his eyes in exasperation and sighs. “Regina. She told you.”

She's furious that he doesn't even try to deny it. “So you were gonna sail into the sunset without even saying a word of goodbye?” she snaps in disbelief, gesturing towards the horizon in a fierce move.

Killian throws her a glance she can't quite decipher before retorting, “What? Of course not, I never had the intention to–“

“Oh no, you didn't?!” she interrupts angrily and huffs. “You never even mentioned you were planning to leave. Sounds like a secret escape to me.”

That muscle in his jaw twitches, always a sure sign that he's upset. “You, on the other hand, made your intentions very clear,” he growls.

He has nerve to be upset and turning the tables against her again! She presses her lips into a thin, stubborn line. “I'm not having this conversation with you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, then what kind of discourse exactly is it we're having right now, love?” he asks quietly, his momentary anger seemingly dissolved.

And it is, it's completely gone. Sure, the last few days have been frustrating, the last few weeks, if he's honest – Emma's constant claim that life in New York was so much better than here, so much safer... and of course she has only her lad's best in mind. All his attempts to get her to be honest to herself have been in vain, dismissed with rude words. Just like she's rudely dismissed him, again and again. Mocked him for his one-handedness when he was trying to help, flippantly waved him off when he offered to comfort Henry after Bae's passing, gladly declared him untrustworthy after he'd struggled to keep her safe from the Wicked Witch's curse. He'd be lying if he said her words and actions didn't hurt him.

He knows, of course, the reason for her behavior: she's been pushing him away since he brought her back to Storybrooke, because she's scared – scared of finding everything she's ever been looking for, because finding it means she could lose it again. Scared of her feelings for him, those feelings that are there, that he's sure of. Alas, it's obvious that she isn't ready for any of it. Oh, he knows exactly what she's feeling, because he's been there, too: daring to care for someone again after years – or, in his case, centuries – of closing off your heart in self-protection, daring to hope for a happy ending... it's the scariest thing he's ever experienced. And Emma Swan... she just isn't there yet. He knows it, he accepts it – he has to, there is no other way than to give her the time and space she needs, and face the risk that she never might get there. He has to let her go, because he loves her – it's useless denying it, he's confessed it already aloud, he can't and doesn't want to pretend it never happened.

But he's only human, even if he saw himself as some sort of monster for a long time, and so – yes, he was angry for a minute. Angry that she claims for herself the right to leave everyone behind, just because she isn't ready to face life and accept the second chance she's given – but on the other hand scolds him because she thinks he's leaving, too. Angry that she seems to think he's at her beck and call any time, ready to let her pick him up to play when she's in the mood and drop him like a hot potato when she sees fit. But on the other hand... what could look like a selfish attitude, gives him also some sort of hope, very unexpectedly.

He scrutinizes her closely, registers the way her shoulders are hunched a little, her hands knotted together in her lap, her expression more disillusioned than upset now – it looks a lot like she's indeed afraid, but not only of her feelings and everything she's been afraid of before... it looks like maybe, just maybe she's afraid... to lose him. Or is that just wishful thinking?

Emma's anger has evaporated, too. She realizes that she's sort of betrayed herself by attacking him for his supposed plans to leave. He's still looking at her with that unreadable expression of his, waiting for her to answer his question... and she can't. She can't, because she doesn't know. She doesn't know what it is they're talking – arguing – about here.

“Nevermind,” she finally manages to get out in a feeble voice, “I guess I just... just... didn't expect...” She waves her hand vaguely at him and falls silent with a sinking feeling in her stomach, because this is getting more and more awkward, and awkwardness is something she never felt with him. But now she has the impression that she's talking herself more and more into trouble with every word, because he's right – what kind of talk is it she's trying to have? And what right does she have to question him? The answer is, she has no right. No right to ask him to stay, let alone demand it from him – nor any right to be angry at him for wanting to leave, or even to be disappointed. Because, if she's honest with herself – and she's been practicing that lately – she has to admit that she's never given him any reason to stay by her side; on the contrary, she's done her best to push him away, to make it clear to him that she doesn't want anything from him... and yet, he has stayed, until now.

She's surprised how much it hurts now, to imagine that she won't be seeing him around every day, and she wonders where that hurt comes from. She has a suspicion, but she doesn't want to go there, because it's pointless. She draws a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to get up and leave him alone, leave him to whatever business he has to do to get his ship ready or whatever.

Killian sees it, sees the hurt in her expression and then the closing off, and if there's anything he can't bear, then it's seeing Emma Swan hurt and knowing he's the one to put that pain on her face. Even if she's probably heading out of town tomorrow, she needs to know that he wasn't going to leave her. He can't let her believe that another person she... cared for was going to abandon her. Because no, of bloody course he wasn't.

“Swan,” he stops her when she's just about to get up, and she freezes mid-move, turning to him again with a question in her eyes. “I figured you were going to head to New York any day now,” he says, “so I tried to find out, with Regina's help, how it would be possible for me to leave Storybrooke, so I could...” His words have come out like a waterfall, unusually uncoordinated for him, and now he doesn't know how to continue without scaring her off even more.

Emma stares at him in confusion, feeling completely dumbfounded. She doesn't understand where he's aiming at. “So you could what,” she blurts out in frustration, “...follow me?” It's meant to be a rhetoric question, because of course he wouldn't... but when he doesn't reply, and averts his eyes, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear, her eyes widen in disbelief when she realizes the truth. “You were going to follow me?” she repeats.

Killian sighs. On the one hand, he's glad that she knows, on the other hand – knowing what he's planning to do could frighten her, make her walls go back up again – not that they were really down yet. He tilts his head in a shrug. “My business with the Crocodile is done,” he explains soberly, “and I have no further bonds to Storybrooke.” She stares at him with an open-mouthed expression, trying to process what he's telling her. “I feel I have already overstayed my welcome,” he continues, trying to sound nonchalant, “and I supposed New York is as good a place as any.”

“Overstayed your welcome?” she echoes and shakes her head in disbelief. “You're aware that you helped defeat the latest threat to the town and save my brother's life?” she asks, and this time she isn't so sure it's a rhetoric question, because he seems indeed completely unaware of how much he has done for her family, for the entire town lately. “You're a hero now,” she tells him, her voice firm but soft.

Killian shakes his head once. “Hardly,” he contradicts and adds matter-of-factly, “It was your and Regina's magic that defeated the Wicked Witch.”

She rolls her eyes. “Maybe, but I wouldn't even have been here to do that if it wasn't for you. And everybody knows that.” Everybody but you, she thinks and asks herself how he would know – as nobody ever seemed to have cared to thank him for anything, or even let him know how much his help and he as a person were appreciated. Including herself. All the change in him, the good and selfless things he did – they have all been taken for granted by everyone, but the moment he made a debatable decision (like hiding the Wicked Witch's curse from them), everyone was all too eager to slip back into the shouldn't-have-trusted-the-pirate routine.

He waves his hand, clearly uncomfortable, and Emma's heart grows heavy, because she knows the feeling – of worthlessness – all too well. “Anyway. My apologies if–“

“I'm not leaving,” Emma interrupts.

He raises a questioning eyebrow. “Pardon me?”

“I'm not leaving,” she repeats. “Henry and I are going to stay in Storybrooke. For good.” Strangely, every time she says that, it seems less weird and terrifying.

He narrows his eyes and leans a little forward, not sure he's heard right. “You're not–?” He doesn't dare to believe his ears at first, but she shakes her head. “But I thought you were going to run until you found–“

“A place I'd miss, I know.” Emma nods, then she shrugs. “The thing is... Storybrooke is that place for Henry. His entire family is here. I can't take that away from him.” The hint of a smile crinkles the fine skin around his eyes, and after a short pause, she draws a deep breath. “I have a confession to make.” She hesitates, frightened by her own courage, because she didn't plan to open up that much, and she doesn't know what it is about him that pushes her to reveal so much of herself. Killian doesn't reply, he just scrutinizes her and waits patiently until she goes on. “You were right,” she finally admits, “My plans to leave were not due to what I thought was best for Henry, at least not mostly. It was about me.” She shrugs. “For all my life I've been alone and on my own, and the thought of suddenly being a part of something, having a family, friends, people who... who care about me and who I care about...” She interrupts herself with a nervous little laugh before she explains honestly, “That's terrifying. But... it's a fact that I have all of that now, and if that doesn't come closer to a home than anything I knew so far, then I don't know.” She raises her chin in a gesture that reminds Killian very much of her mother. “So, I'm willing to give it a try. For Henry's sake, and for mine.”

She looks relieved, and Killian has the impression that she put all of that in words for the very first time, perhaps also admitting it to herself for the very first time. He can only imagine how much courage that cost her, and his heart goes out to this fierce warrior princess and the lost girl who took that leap of faith – to try and make a home instead of running from it, and to voice those fears.

He tilts his head and smiles. “You made the right choice, Swan,” he tells her. “For the both of you.”

Emma nods thoughtfully. “Who knows. Maybe this... this patch of dirt can become home for me, too.” She sways her arm in an all-encompassing gesture and then combs her hair behind her ears with both hands. “I mean, the other day you told me I could be a part of... all this. And some time ago, I said the same thing to you, and you... you listened to me.” He scratches behind his ears and averts his eyes for a moment when he remembers the occasion. “And maybe if you could make that choice, to be a part of something, after all these years of being alone... I can do it, too?” She smiles, still a bit insecure and skeptical.

Killian thinks back to that memorable day when she offered him the chance to do the right thing and be a part of something, instead of continuing to be alone. It took some time before her words reached his heart, he almost used the magic bean he'd stolen from her, but then he couldn't. He couldn't let another boy get lost, especially not a boy who had just lost his father. He thought of the boy Bae, dragged away by Pan's brigade, of a sleeping boy on a ship who woke up to his father gone, and finally of another sleeping boy who had to wake up to find his father murdered in the night. For the sake of all of them, and for the sake of Emma Swan's son, he saved the magic bean and turned his ship around and his life, too – telling himself that maybe it wasn't too late for him... maybe there was still a chance for him to become the man he'd always wanted to be. It was a good feeling, letting hope in again, but it was also, yes, outright terrifying.

He nods. “I know it isn't easy,” he tells Emma and smiles. “But I'm bloody sure you can do it, Swan.”

She presses her lips into a smile and tilts her head, his encouraging words from another occasion ringing in the back of her mind: I have yet to see you fail... She's not gonna lie, his constant and unwavering support of her and belief in her has helped her more than once to overcome her insecurities and fear when it came to fight battles against villains. He always seems to provide exactly what she needs, exactly in the right moment. Even if sometimes she doesn't know herself what it is that she needs.

“Were you really going to follow me?” she asks with an incredulous shake of her head and then smiles when he averts his eyes. “Thanks for having my back,” she tells him honestly, and then suddenly a strange feeling takes hold of her, and something crosses her mind. She tries to wrap her mind around it and frowns. “But I'm wondering... why would you even ask Regina?” She looks at him inquiringly when her thoughts become clear and logical in her head. “I mean... your ship's made of enchanted wood, right? We know you can leave town, you already did when you went after Gold in New York – you sailed.” Her voice is pensive, almost like she's talking to herself.

Killian scratches behind his ear and looks away, clearly uncomfortable now. “Ah... true, yeah,” he manages, strangely tongue-tied. “Hmmm, you know, with villains and curses and all, I guess it just...” – he gesticulates vaguely – “It just slipped my mind.” Finally he lifts his eyes to hers again and grins sheepishly, but the grin doesn't reach his eyes.

Emma narrows her eyes when it hits her unmistakably. “You're lying.” It's an assessment, not a question. His face falls. “This is about what happened during the last year, isn't it?” she persists.

His face falls. “Swan...”

She leans forward and searches his eyes, urging, “What are you hiding from me?”

“Didn't you tell me only a few days ago that you were tired of living in the past?” he retorts. “That it doesn't matter?”

“But this isn't the past,” she argues, “This is now.” It pains her almost physically to see him cringe and avoid her gaze as it's vivid proof of the distance his secret is putting between them, and she just can't have that, not when she was just about to... “Please, I have to know,” she interrupts her own thoughts in an almost imploring voice. “I've been honest with you, now I need you to be honest with me.” She can see him fight with himself, but he still hesitates, so she goes on, “Your ship can travel from Storybrooke to the Land Without Magic,” she says matter-of-factly, “but it cannot travel realms, not without a portal, right?” Finally, his eyes are looking at her again, but he still doesn't reply. “When you came for me and Henry,” Emma continues relentlessly, “you weren't with your ship. Why?”

Killian sighs deeply. He never wanted to reveal it, simply because he once promised to win Emma Swan's heart without any trickery. And because there's a good chance that knowing what he did for her would frighten her so much that it could drive here away beyond any reach. But he also knows that he can't hide the truth from her, not if she really insists on having it. So he draws a deep breath and starts to lay bare his secret.

“It's no big deal, really,” he tries to play it down. “I needed a portal, right.” He tilts his head. “As luck would have it, I crossed paths with someone who was in possession of a magic bean... and in need of a vessel.” He averts his eyes again, irrationally hoping she might just let it go or simply not understand what that means. In a desperate attempt to save the situation, to make it less heavy and meaningful, he shrugs with a grin that feels false on his lips. “Fastest deal I ever made.”

Her eyes widen, grow big as jade marbles, and her mouth falls open in disbelief, because of course she's aware of the meaning of his words. Her voice is almost toneless when she finally finds words to say. “You traded your ship for me?”

Killian shrinks a little, the shock in her voice doing nothing to calm his nerves. In a moment of utter panic he contemplates playing it light, making a joke of it, but then he opts for honesty. There's no use in hiding it any longer anyway, whatever the consequences may be, she knows the truth now. He raises his head to look at her in an utterly serious, almost apologetic way, and nods once, slowly. “Aye.”

Emma's thoughts are whirling, the blood rushing through her veins, causing a deafening swoosh in her ears as the scales fall from her eyes. That is why she often found him at the docks, but never saw his ship since her return from New York. Why he's always at Granny's, why he has a room there – because he has no other place to go to, no other room to sleep. Because while she's been struggling to find out where and if ever she could find a home for herself, he's been without his – because he'd given it away, so he could bring her back to hers. Not for the sake of her family, for the sake of breaking a curse or for his own sake – no, for her alone. She remembers his words, spoken over a tumbler of rum from the bottle she kept in her New York apartment – the bottle she didn't remember buying, because rum had never been her drink... yet something must have pushed her to buy it. I came back to save you.

She looks at him with wide eyes, her disbelief slowly fading into acceptance and wonder. His ship, his home. She swallows, her throat dry all of a sudden. When she speaks, her voice comes out croakily, barely more than a whisper. “Don't... don't you miss it?”

Killian tilts his head, a very tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Every day,” he admits and shakes his head once. “But not as much as I'd miss you.” His eyes rest upon her with a profound melancholy in them, but bare of even the tiniest hint of regret, and that is what makes her crumble in the end. It's not like she's losing the fight with her feelings – she just gives it up.

A tear slips down Emma's cheek, and even though he has sworn to himself he wouldn't do anything she could perceive as pressure, as an unwelcome approach that could make her retreat into her shell, Killian can't help himself – he raises his hand to her face and gently brushes his thumb across her cheek to wipe away that errant tear. “She was just a ship,” he says softly, “A few planks of wood and a sail.”

She lets out a little snort, something between a sob and a laugh, and he starts to reluctantly withdraw his hand. But then the most surprising thing happens when she shifts closer to him on the bench, gravitating his way and leaning forward, her cheek following his fingertips as if she's chasing his touch. He stops his movement, terrified almost, when her face is so close to his that he can feel her breath on his lips. Her tear-brimmed eyes are fixed on his, and now he stops breathing.

Emma exhales slowly in relief, as if she's made a decision and a heavy load is falling from her shoulders. “Why do you have to be like this?” she murmurs, but it doesn't sound accusing, and then she tilts her head to the left, deliberately leaning into his touch now. And after a short glance at his mouth she closes the last tiny bit of distance and touches her lips to his.

As shocked as he is by her unexpected move – before he can think of what to do, how to react now, his heart and his instincts take the helm, pushing his fear and caution out of the way. So, he responds to her kiss, slowly and carefully, because how on Earth could he not? He feels the warmth of her hands through the layers of clothing on his chest where she laid them, but unlike that other time when she kissed him, her fingers are not grasping his lapels as if she's trying to keep herself from retreating. No, this time her palms are resting against his pounding heart, her fingers spread like wings, completely relaxed and at ease. And finally, some of that ease she transpires engulfs him and encourages him, telling him that this – this is what she really wants; he is what she really wants. His fingers, still resting against her cheek, find their way slowly, tenderly across her jaw until they come to a halt at the back of her neck, combing into her soft hair. He curls his fingertips a little and presses them lightly into her scalp, just a tiny bit, to show her that he's there to hold her.

He knows how she kisses... or so he thought. That one time back in Neverland was frantic, all-consuming, scorching... but this time? Oh, it's not less intense, by no means, that's not it. But this time it's intimate. Slow and soft, and full of meaning. Of promises. Fragile, yet firm. Determined. Her kiss in Neverland was a determined move, too, but that determination waned as quickly as it had flared up in her eyes right before she'd grabbed him. This time...

Fear grips his heart and twists his guts when Emma slowly lets go of his lips and tilts her head back a little bit. He swallows hard, his skin burning and prickling, his blood rushing in his ears. The seconds are ticking away, are turning into ages as he looks into her eyes and waits for her to say something, to pull back, to shake her head and push him away... her green eyes are still sparkly with the unshed tears from before, and his heart grows heavy, so heavy... but then she does the unbelievable thing again and smiles. Her lips, that have been caressing his a mere few seconds ago, pull into a tiny, almost shy smile. Her eyes drop briefly to his mouth again and then look back into his, one slow blink of her lids sending him an unspoken invitation.

And just like that, his fear subsides, and his nerves calm. His heart and stomach keep fluttering, but mostly for different reasons now, and without noticing, he lets out the same exhale of relief as Emma before, as he finally dares to smile back. His fingers still curled at the back of her neck, he pulls her forward a little, encouraged by her smile, and she eagerly follows. Their lips meet again, and this time, he doesn't remain as passive as before... Killian doesn't just respond to the kiss or simply return it, this time he kisses her back. Still carefully, still slowly, but very thoroughly and with a new found confidence. There's a new depth behind this kiss, and even though it's still not as frantic and scorching as back in Neverland, it holds a promise of that passion, of more – much more.

When they break apart this time to catch some air, it happens very reluctantly, and their foreheads remain leaned together, her hands still resting against his chest. Emma still smiles, and there's no reluctance, no awkwardness in her look, no avoiding his gaze.

They remain still like this for a while, both basking in the warmth that blooms inside them and surrounds them all at once.

But then, eventually someone needs to say something, and Emma takes that part. “Before you ask me...” she begins, and the huskiness in her voice makes his heart soar, “I don't know what that was... or what this is, or what it's gonna be...” she pauses and blinks, but oddly enough, it doesn't make him nervous at all. “I just know one thing,” she continues, “whatever it is... I don't want it to be a one-time thing.”

She averts her eyes for a moment, a rosy blush tinging her cheeks, and when she looks back at him, tentatively almost, he understands. He understands what a huge leap of faith for her this really is. Despite all his barely hidden chasing of her affection, despite his admission that he was going to follow her to New York (and he knows he'd follow her to the end of the world, if he had to), she still isn't sure that he won't reject her. It's simply because she's Emma Swan, and she hasn't experienced anything than rejection almost for her whole life. She's in the middle of the process of realizing that she isn't alone anymore, that she doesn't have to be, but she's got still a long way ahead, and the lost little girl, it's still living there inside, behind those huge green eyes searching his.

He smiles and slides his hand carefully from her hair, resting his palm against her jaw and his thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “Good,” he answers her unspoken question, and her eyes twinkle as she nods once.

“Good,” she replies and then sighs, leaning back a little and letting her hands fall from his chest. “As much as I'd love to stay here cozy with you all day... they're waiting for us at the celebration.”

Killian frowns in confusion. “The celebration?” he echoes.

“My parents' celebration,” she reminds him. “The naming ceremony for my brother. Apparently, that's a thing in the Enchanted Forest...” She interrupts herself and narrows her eyes. “Wait, why am I telling you this, you're from there, you should know more about it than me.”

“I do indeed, love, but I don't know...” he sways his head from side to side, “A pirate at a royal festivity? What am I supposed to do?”

Emma smiles and gets up from the bench. “Blend in?”

He rises to his feet automatically, it's the gentleman in him that can't remain seated when his lady – his lady! The thought makes him delightfully dizzy – is on her feet, but he still hesitates. Averting his eyes, he scratches briefly behind his ear. “I don't know, Swan...”

“Hey, let's face it,” she says almost severely, “You and me, we're both a part of something now.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow at her, delighted about the lightness and naturalness in her voice, like she's completely at ease with all of this. “Whatever it is?” he questions.

She simply reaches out for him and laces her right arm through his hooked one, a weirdly old-fashioned gesture for her and thus all the more endearing to him.

“Whatever it is.”

#cs ff #cs #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan ff #my ff #a part of something

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ikonislife · 8 years ago

Text

Road.

Bobby x Reader

Angst + Fluff

Warning: just a few F-bombs

“I can’t believe you called me over because of a fucking clogged drain.”

You exasperate as you push pass the tall boy hovering at the doorway, not really caring what he has to say. All you wanted is to get this over as quickly as possible so you can return to your first day off in months. Just a half hour ago, you were wonderfully drifting among the cloud of your dreamland when that annoying default ringtone that you never bothered to change went off giving you a rude awakening. To make all matters worse, you had picked up without even checking the caller ID only to cringe at the voice spewing out of the speaker.

“Well, hello to you too.”

He sasses you back, making the discomfort in his voice obvious before sauntering back inside the house, slamming the front door. You shoot him a glare sharper than any sword, knife, cutlery since the beginning of time combined.

“Don’t give me that. You’re the one that called me at 7 in the morning to come over, don’t act so miserable.” You scoff. Bobby was the sweetest guy you know but when he wants to give you attitude, it was worse than a wet cat in the middle of winter.

“Miserable… Oh, wow. You don’t even know. Uh, I’d probably be less “miserable” if my ex isn’t making herself at home on my couch. On that note, could you please not make it seems like you live here cause you don’t.”

This is gonna be a long morning and you were far from prepared for it. You had always imagined running into Bobby for the first time in over a year looking like a damn Victoria Secret’s angel - glow the fuck up, making him drools sort of thing. It’d happen in a club or mutual’s friend house party, you’d be slightly tipsy (you know, confident boost… or really just help you forget all your filters and common sense), dancing sexily amongst the crowd, catching his attention. Well look how life’s a bitch because here you are, sitting in the living room that once was yours in legging, an oversized t-shirt that you’re pretty sure belongs to him, not a lick of make up, and hair in the messiest of bun.

While Bobby, well he’s just being Bobby. You had huffed into the house so fast earlier you didn’t even realize just how damaging his look might be for your poor soul. With a scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrow just the slightest. The way he clenches his jaw out of the thought of you sitting pretty in his home, you can’t deny, it’s hot as hell. Then there’s that’s nervous tick of his. Whenever things get a bit too complicated for this idiot’s liking, he’d licks his lips incessantly then roll the plump lower lips under those bunny teeth. Oh and you know, the fact that he had decided to completely forgo his shirt, letting his tone upper body mingles with the sun’s ray, tantalizing your soul so much it hurt a bit that he’s not yours to touch anymore. The way his sweatpants hangs so damn low on his hip that it left little to imagine. Your eyes tracing out the deep V line leading straight under the elastic band covering the thing that makes your core dully aching a bit. Catching yourself drooling, your index inconspicuously drags its nail up the inside of your hand, hoping the pain would snap you out of your day dream that was now having you wish you could run your tongue up his abs. Luckily for you, it seems bunny boy had been too lost in his own thought to notice, evident from the way he’s sheepishly scratching the back of his head, eyes flickering toward the master bedroom.

“Are you hiding someone in there, Bobb?”

“What? Huh?…Oh… No. Why’d you say that?” Your sudden question got him stammering like a kid that ate candy before dinner.

“Cause your eyes had been glued to the bedroom’s door ever since I sat down.”

Your observation finally rips his eyes back to you, to your gaze. Completely fluster by your intense stare, his muscular arms shuffles around a bit, attempting to cover up whatever it could of the firm chest and broad shoulders.

“Oh, the clogged drain… it’s in my bedroom. And can you stop scrutinizing me with your eyes, it’s weird.”

“Why? I thought you like it when I keep my eyes on you…”

You rasp, inching closer to the shy boy that was now blushing with the intensity of thousand suns. You hadn’t mean to sound so, so seductive to be honest but somehow with the early hour, tired body, and the confusion of being back here, in his place got you all work up. It clearly came off just as wrong as you thought because his eyes now stuck onto your features, clearly entices. You hold yourself mere centimeters away from him for a few seconds before hissing into a small snicker, moving away.

“Can we get this over with so I can go home and sleep, please.” You call out to the still flustered Bobby, walking straight to the bedroom but before your hand feels the cold of the door knob, it was already being firmly yank away, giving you a full view of the rough hands you loved to toy with whenever you couldn’t care less about what was going on with the world.

“Damn, you are hiding someone in there. Afraid I might scare her off?” You retort as snappy as you could, not letting him onto the excitement you’ve been hiding of seeing his private place once more after so long.

“No, I already told you. I just have things in there that you don’t need to see. You don’t live here anymore, remember that.”

His expression tenses up. It scares you a bit how fast he could flip from being the cute shy boy with the bunny smile to match the crescents of his eyes to the manly guy with that haughty stare. His jaw once against seize up with discomfort, making it look even sharper than you had remember. After all you had spent countless afternoon lazing on his lap, staring up at that strong jawline. It surprises you a bit to think maybe you don’t remember him as well as you thought you do. His adam’s apple dip then rise continuously, drawing your attention to his high collar bones, milky and smooth, lack of all the crimson and purple blooms you had so often left behind. Your eyes trail up to his face again as you swallow nervously, his words suddenly hit you like a tsunami. You don’t belong here anymore.

“Right… I’m sorry.”

Your voice falter and it sends guilt upon the stern face. Dropping his lips into a pout, he had never once thought there was a day when you would be a stranger in his home. For as long as he could remember, you know every single aspect of his life. He can tell you the deepest darkest secret and trust that you would never use it against him. To think that there now exist things he would rather you not see, well, that kills him just a bit. He had alway imagined you would be the one, THE one.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off so malicious… Give me a second.”

With that, he lets go of your hand and slips away into the safety of his room. A good 5 minutes past by before the familiar door swings open to a completely foreign room. This wasn’t the one you had spent endless hours tidying up because he’s a clean freak that’s too lazy to do any actual cleaning. That bed, or at least the sheets, isn’t the one you had tangled up in moaning and panting his names while he begged for you to come undone. Hell, it’s not even in the same spot as it once had. The spot that once held the bed now support a small couch. The pictures of happy times on the wall replaced with various posters and trinkets. The only familiar thing that put a gentle smile on your face is the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor. Something never change.

“Right, so the drain… Why am I here again? Instead of a plumber?” You breath out, almost raggedly. Unbeknownst to your wandering eyes, it caught his attention.

“The plumber should be back soon, he’s just under the house fixing the pipes. Sit, make yourself comfortable I guess.”

You had began to trek toward his bed before the realization of it’s not your bed anymore hit you hard as you stumble to the couch and flopping down. The pain of the break up was rather mild to get through when you didn’t have to be in such close proximity of Bobby. You hadn’t realize how much you miss being in his place since the second the relationship was over, you up and left. You had no time to say goodbye or to linger to the place that was home for so long. Staring at the familiar unfamiliar place now, your heart swells a bit. You were glad he moved on from you but at the same time, jealousy rears its ugly head. You think of the girls he had brought home, the one he will bring home and truthfully, it hurts.

“How are you?”

He unexpectedly speaks up, clearing the silent out of the room. You eyes return to his, sighing softly.

“I’m okay… You?” You smile weakly, hoping he’d give into the conversation a bit more.

“Good, good…”

Unfortunately your invitation clearly miss by the boy as his voice falters once again. Bobby had settled himself on the edge of his bed, studying your ever changing expression closely. After breaking up, he had seen you once when you came to pick up all your belongings and that was filled with tears. Seeing you again in his home stirs up emotion, presenting it neatly in the air. Wondering what you’re spacing out about, he was about the speak up before a voice that didn’t belong to you nor his speaks up.

“Okay, it’s finally fixed. Here’s the bill, you can pay online before the weekend is over. Have a good day.”

The older gentleman tip his cap to you before making his way back out the front door with Bobby in tow. After seeing the plumber off, he returns, holding the bill tightly in his fingers.

“So…. Wanna tell me why I’m here? Why’d you say it was half my fault the thing broke, I haven’t been here in over a year, Bobb.”

“The plumber found so much fucking hair in the pipe I could make a wig out of it.”

“What? Maybe it’s all the girls you brought over. I literally haven’t been in your shower in so long. How would you know if it’s me huh? wouldn’t it have break down a long time ago if it really was because of me?”

“It’s long fucking curly ass hair, whose else would that be? Seriously, why do you keep bringing up other girls?”

Cold and harshness suddenly return to his voice, pushing you away from the happy memory of giggles and the soothing voice that lulled you to sleep in this room. If distance is what he wishes to put between you two then that’s what you’ll give him. You had honestly hope to be friend with him once again but had always thought being friend with an ex you’ve never gotten over wasn’t the best idea in the world. Seeing his reaction now, perhaps you made the right call.

“I heard about you- how you changed, Bobby. They told me how much you changed since we broke things off. You don’t have to lie to me, I don’t judge. You know that.”

He groans loudly at the thought of the vultures hanging around you, feeding you gossips about him. He had never liked the crowd you choose to surround yourself with. Lord knows how many arguments ensued stemming from his disapproval of your choice in friends. In a way, he had always blamed them for a fraction of why your relationship with him soured the way it did toward the last few months of being together.

“Whatever. Fuck those gossiping asses. You can foot for half the bill and we’ll be done here. You can get rid of me for good.”

The glimpses of fights, ugly words, and door slamming flashing in your mind like a quick preview of exactly why this place wasn’t home any longer.

“God, you’re impossible. You could just text me or send me a request on the bank app. You had to wake me up at 7 in the morning, on my day off to come over here. Here I thought I’d take the chance to check up on you… Sorry for the intrusion.”

That all so familiar feeling rises in your throat except, maybe this time it’s different. It’s not anger, it’s distress. You were about to let Bobby slips out of your finger once again. In all honesty, you had hope he would call but he never did. You wanted to call him but perhaps too prideful, too weak to just say sorry. Just like how you’re too proud, too fragile now to say anything other than spite.

“I don’t have the cash on me right now so I’ll drop it off later or something, how much do I owe you?”

“300″

“Christ, 300? Ugh, whatever.”

Although you were more than vexed of the rude awakening this morning, in the back of your mind, you were still elated at the thought of seeing Bobby. Now, all you want is to get the hell out because he had made it very obvious you were less than welcome here. He stands there, chewing his lips, mulling over what to think of your caring words. Why would you want to check on him after how things were left off.

Not really caring about the how or the why of the broken pipe, you storm out of his room in a rush, knocking Bobby over who had just decided threw himself in your way, betting against all odds that maybe you still love him. Along with the loud thuds of body crashing, the smallest, clearest clinks could be heard along the wooden floor. Panic engulfs the previous concerned face as you roll off his body, arm reaching out toward the source of the small noise. He stammers “no” while crawling along the floor but you were always too fast for him, still too fast for him. Your jaw dropped and you freeze on the floor. Much to your surprise, it appears to be a dainty rose gold band with a gleaming diamond in the middle, surrounds by a small halo of smaller diamonds shaped like stars. Along the band, two small crescents sit prettily on the two sides of the diamond.

“So this is what you were hiding…”

Your voice falls back to a gentleness that shakes Bobby up visibly. Something about the calmness in your voice that tells him beyond the obvious amicable tone is sadness lurking about. You grab his hand in yours, placing the small ring into his palm before closing his fingers around it, purposely lingering a bit too long just to remember the way he used to hold yours.

“Bobby, you know you don’t have to hide these things from me… Despite all that happened, I support you 100%. If you found someone you love enough to propose to then I’m happy for you…” A small smile lingers on your weary lips. It kills you to know his heart now has a permanent owner, someone that you could never, will never be.

“Y/n… I did want to hide the ring from you but not because I’m proposing to someone… I hid it because, well because I bought it for you.”

Your eyes blown wide open. A ragged gasp audibly tears through the clear of the house, lingering upon his words. Your hands go limp, dropping away from his but at light speed, he already caught it, pulling it up to his lips for a quenching kiss.

“I bought it for you, babe… Before everything went to shit between us. I thought about returning it but I guess deep down I always thought, hope you’d end up back with me somehow…” A small chuckle drops from his lips as his hand caress the high of your cheek as if waiting to catch the tears that were about to fall . “Wishful thinking. That’ll be the death of me.” His eyes returns to yours, staring with the gaze that had you head over heels for him the first time you saw him across that record store. Truth is, you’ve never gotten over his smile, his warmth, his heart. The past year felt like a big blur of stumbling into work then crashing into your bed late at night.

“…You know all you had to do was hit me up. It’s not like I ever stop loving you.”

You exhale so easily the sentence that you had been wanting to say the second you packed up. You crack a small hopeful smile, within second, his eyes hide away, a grin chases yours.

“I guess I got tired of sitting around, being useless, wishing you were still with me so here I am, making up lame excuses to get you to come over. Pathetic huh? I guess I was wishing if you come over more often then maybe something will happen.”

He sighs, cheek blushing, eyes averting your gaze out of rather than embarrassment, you’d say it was shyness. Just like when he had asked you for your number while being lost amongst the endless stack of 90′s hiphop records after noticing your hands clutching onto the last 2Pac album in stock he had wanted to get.

“I could you know, pay you 10 bucks here, 5 bucks there. That would be what, oh I don’t know, like 30-40 trips before I finished the 3 bills I owe you. If you want, I could make it happens.”

You smirk mischievously, fingers grazing the soft tan skin of his abs while your body inching closer to his as if asking to be in that amazing embrace once more. Taking the hint, his smile full blown, hands cupping your face securely before bringing his forehead to rest on yours.

“You’re so crazy, you know that. I love it. On that thought, I think I prefer taking the payment in pennies. One penny a day till you pay it all off.”

“Oh yea, that could happen. Plus, you know, we still gotta settle on who gets the 2Pac record. I’ll settle for custody of it on even days, you can get the odd days.” your hand firmly plants against his chest while the other one wrap fully around his torso, crawling onto his lap as he lean back against the wall. His chuckle crisp against the air, a big contrast to the warm breath fanning your face.

“Or you know, I’ll make you lunch and we can discuss you moving back in while we eat. We can put the record back on OUR music library shelves.”

His chest heaves heartily from the sweet giggle filling your surrounding space, illuminating it up with ethereal lights you’ve been missing for so long. He presses a big kiss onto your cheek before gingerly resting your face onto his chest, arms securely boa constrictor itself around your torso.

“Yea?”

“Yea” He whispers softly into your ear, landing a quick peck on your cheek.

“The drain isn’t broken, is it?” You quip suddenly, raising an eyebrow curiously at what he has to say.

“How’d you know?” He whispers softly, clearly shaken up that you had figured out the lie that had gotten you back in his arms in the first place.

“The worker, his jumpsuit has the internet company’s logo, genius.”

Startled at the speed in which his lie is unravelling, all Bobby could think of is how to mend the bridge connecting him to you. He’s running at full speed on a fragile overpass made out of deceits. Your words like an explosion, tumbling that bridge down to the water of hate and all he could do is to try his best not to fall.

“I’m so sorry. I, I have no excuse. I was just so desperate. I know if I had just call you out of the blue, you wouldn’t… I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not mad, baby. Like I said, I’ve never stop loving you. If I really wanted to, I could’ve send my sister over but I didn’t. I wanted to see you, Bobby.”

“You mean it?” Tear threatening to fall, he stares into those eyes he had thought would hate him but all he could see is love.

“Of course I do. I mean, I don’t think I would say yes to your proposal right now… We still got a lot of issues to work out before we take that plunge but just know, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Lying is bad, yes but a lie that brought me back into your arms without harming anyone along the way. How bad could that really have been? So how about we put that ring back in its box for now and start off with a nap and then lunch?”

“God, I forgot how mature you are about everything. That sounds perfect, babe.”

With a longing kiss, he carries you off to the bed that’s about to be yours once again. Reaching over to his nightstand, he pulls out a small brown leather box then sits the small ring neatly inside, eyes fill with hope.

“One day.” You whisper gently, wearing your heart on your sleeves. The road ahead will be long and rough indeed. Who know where it might leads you but if one thing the break up had taught both of you is that no matter how ridiculous the road, if you don’t try walking through it once, you’ll never know of its end.

#ikon scenarios #ikon scenario #ikon au #ikon fanfic #ikon fluff #bobby kim #kim jiwon #ikon bobby #ikon jiwon #bobby scenario #bobby scenarios #bobby imagine #jiwon scenarios #jiwon imagines #jiwon fluff #ikon #bobby #masterlist #writing

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trolloled · 8 years ago

Text

Nobody asked for it but I’m giving it to you anyway:

The inspiration-behind-the-trolls master post:

Damath: I saw a lot of haughty seadwellers super proud of their status and thought ‘what if there was a seadweller who lost at being a seadweller’ and damath was hatched. I basically wanted an asshole desperately clinging to his old status, and he hasn’t changed too drastically since then.

Haydel: I listened to Barrett’s Privateers and became inspired to write my own ‘pirate’ troll. She was fairly flat when I first wrote her. She didn’t even have a proper profile until recently despite being first designed several years ago. Originally she was just a drunkard pirate with bad aim, but now she’s a drunkard dancing pirate with middlin’ aim and a strong desire to kidnap trolls to be her lackeys so she can prove herself the toughest of all seadwellers.

Vollia: I dunno, I think someone literally just suggested ‘what if there was a troll based off one of those repo-men shows’ on MSPAF at one point and Vollia was hatched. She’s changed drastically since then. Original incarnation was still a drinker, but only to deal with the stupidity she dealt with on a regular basis. She was also fairly bloodthirsty and absolutely loathed subjugglators for ‘ruining’ the good name of indigos

Deviex: I was fresh off playing Bioshock and I wanted a lunatic doctor of my own. He was never a direct Bioshock rip-off, but I slipped in a few steinman jokes here and there and unfortunately that got him l labelled as such. He originally had a yellowblooded moirail that kept his homicidal medical intentions in check, but since her RPer turned into a huge prat stopped roleplaying, that is long gone and Deviex has since had no one to stop him from flying into a rage when told someone won’t submit for medical testing.

Remiva: ‘what if there was a highblood who made it his job to deal with these nice highbloods?’ I think I originally just designed him as an example profile for a fantroll help blog I used to run (boy that was a dumpster fire). Since I liked the concept of someone being a deliberate asshole to lowbloods for the sake of status while stabbing other people in the back to prove some philosophical point, I fleshed out his profile completely.

Charsa: Originally designed for a dieselpunk SGRUB rp that never took off, she used to be a very energetic and excitable inventor who routinely broke everything she made out of excitement. In the translation between that and here, she lost her excitable nature and become more tired than anything, partially as a result of how her AB turned out. Which is all well and good, I prefer the lazy/tired inventor archetype to the excited one. Plus she kept all the eccentric nature of what she builds with a mildly amused, nearly asleep-college-student attitude.

Kormut: He was my first fantroll. I just wanted a highblood that couldn’t be considered overpowered since I was super worried about accidentally being some sort of newbie rper who busted in with overpowered trolls that everyone auto-loved. So I gave him inexplicable bad luck. Some people guessed that his bad luck was entirely in his head, but it really wasn’t. He’s stayed pretty much the same since his inception, though his lusus turned from a Dune-esque sandworm into a slightly mutated lusus cougar instead.

Sapant: Hatched from the idea of ‘take an obscure character from a popular work and make them into a fantroll.’ He’s Owl Eyes from The Great Gatsby, albeit with his niceness significantly toned down to fit in with troll attitudes. He’s too new to have changed at all!

Newsen: One of the first new trolls I made following my impromptu hiatus. I saw a pair of torn jeans and a wicked hairstyle on a sprite sheet while listening to Dirty Laundry, so I figured a reporter intentionally sabotaging everyone else’s success for his own gain would be pretty amusing, especially if he was pretty disgusting himself.

Yegeri: He’s somewhat inspired by the Pinkerton Detective Agency (His name is formed from two different prominent Pinkerton detectives). You know, before they became some weird private security group. When they busted rum runners and such. He doesn’t get much any use because I’m not a big fan of the sprite I made for him, but I still like his personality.

Hovend: I wanted Yegeri to have a distaff counterpart that was absolutely not suited for police work whatsoever. What would happen if the worst person possible was thrust into a position where he had to do what he hated most? The answer is apparently regress into anime and origami folding.

Xrumon: Not gonna lie, I made him because I was annoyed with a certain someone’s representation of a troll brought back from near-death in robot form. Not to worry dear weird person reading this, it’s nobody that follows me. Their representation had the troll...blandly accept being saved, and they weren’t at all concerned with the ramifications of their new body. So I said ‘I can do it better’ and wrote up the mean spirited son of a bitch we all don’t know and certainly don’t love today. Turns out being trapped in a robot shell sucks.

Portec: There’s an episode of American Dad where Stan really, really, really wanted to get a helicopter or some shit. I saw that and decided I wanted a helicopter troll because it’d be funny (That’s a common theme). So Portec became reality, formed with a strong desire for coffee and a reckless attitude, he...really hasn’t changed all that much.

Deveii: He was originally a self-insert! Oh no! He had my worst personality traits of course, namely being my absolutely awful temper at the time along with cowardice. Thankfully he quickly grew way the hell away from being a self-insert through the power of Zagaya (his first moirail) taking him under his wing. He always retained his bad temper, however, and accidentally gained an affinity for dating highbloods.

Evelsi: I think rai dared me to make a troll that only spoke in like 50′s slang or some shit like that. For a while, that was basically his quirk! I had a whole page written up of various slang terms to use, while Evelsi was basically ‘hey remember the American 50′s? Weren’t those times wild?’ the troll. From that I gradually added onto him so that he became more of a rock n’ roll troll with a penchant for helping others gain friends/quadrants, and pretty much entirely dropped the 50′s schtick.

Remune: “I want a bartender that nearly kills people with what he makes.” That’s pretty much it. His sprite is one I’m really proud of, even if I used a base. His hair was a total bitch but I love how it turned out. He hasn’t changed much, though he originally had telekinesis as a power. I changed that to seismic sense so that I could play it into his alcoholism (Booze deadens the constant noise other trolls generate for him).

Gaveyo: I kinda just wanted an explorer type troll? I listened to the Legionnaire’s Lament by the decemberists and wanted a troll that evoked that song. A lot of my trolls are inspired by music. At first he was just gonna be a lil grumpy and v. tired and v. world weary, but he somehow turned into fat dickhead who ruins people’s nights for laughs. At least he kept his trait of collecting trinkets and mementos. Fun fact, his last name is a rearrangement of the word cloyed, which iirc means something that is really sweet or overly sappy. I have actual reasons for keeping it that way.

Chamlo: I wrote him for a special RP where mutants/undesirable would get to duke it out on an island. The last one standing would be allowed to rejoin the troll empire at large, having been granted the gift of life! And every other troll in the empire got to watch a sick, extreme version of survivor! Unfortunately the RP didn’t get enough applicants and then the MSPAF got nuked so oh well.

Adabon: I listened to Delta (C2C) and suddenly got inspired to make a troll who was a fan of bombs. But since that felt a little cliche, I wondered what else could one do w/ bombs. And then I remembered seeing a cartoon where some fool used an explosives challenge to paint a shitload of stuff at once and figured that’d be pretty fun! It worked out pretty well overall, I’d say.

Yarrex: Second fantroll ever. Most of his characterization came from when I first used him on MSPAF. I can’t remember if the cafe interactions or his profile came first. Either way he soon turned into a troll obsessed with balance. Then I did the stupidest thing ever and wrote myself into an Edgy Fanfic Corner(tm) by burning his hive down and killing his lusus because itsbadwriting.gif. Fortunately, people still liked him for whatever reason. I’ve retconned all of that so his lusus is quite alive and his hive is still standing, but I still have him reference his hive at least getting singed sometimes as a nod.

Argumi: “Boy, reading everyone’s thoughts would actually be a pretty horrible power. I know! I’ll make it so that you can’t turn it off! And you’re an empath!” And so began Argumi’s suffering. Most of my trolls are ‘inspired’ by sudden thoughts, really. First he was just an empath, then he turned into a mind reader, and now he’s an empath AND a mind reader. His life just gets worse every rewrite. But at least he’s more functional now than he used to be.

Famynn: Was written originally to be the Totally Awesome Doctor(tm) in a pirate RP. He would have performed surgery listening to stirring operas and complained about everyone else being little kids. Basically an incredibly old fashioned, anachronistic, asshole. But then the owner of said rp who shall remain nameless repeatedly made me lower his caste so their friends could get in instead. So he became brown and hopelessly incompetent as a doctor. Then the RP ended because oops the earlier mentioned prat was in it and the owner was no better. Later I used him in a better RP called Hunters (of the lost planet) where he was still the ship’s doctor. That’s where he got his jealous nature towards highbloods from! He’s been pretty much the same since, although his Alternian form has no doctor incliniations.

Marnin: I listened to Convoy or something one too many times and wanted a badass trucker troll. He was Not Great(tm). Really flat for my tastes and I’m a little embarrassed at how one-note he was. I was recently convinced to revive him by someone who actually liked him. I used it as a chance to completely revamp his personality (i.e. actually give him one) and change what he did completely. He’s not the same troll he used to be.

Abnage: I just wanted a con artist, really. His sprites belonged to a failed troll concept I tried out for a while, involving a hobo that flagrantly violated society’s norms to make some dumbass moral point. Unfortunately, that would mean being nice on purpose, and since everyone else’s trolls were nice at the time, the point was lost in translation.

Gerrel: Third fantroll ever! I wanted the ‘ideal’ lowblood, in a similar vein to how Kormut was a purposefully underpowered blueblood. I didn’t want people calling me mean names if I made an upstart lowblood, so I went in the opposite direction. Just about the only personality trait he retains from his original incarnation is his workaholic-please-everyone attitude. He used to be somewhat suave (at least, what, 15 year old me thought so?) and utterly confident in himself. He bored me to tears, honestly, since I wasn’t a very good writer and couldn’t work with him very well. He’s gone through the most rewrites out of all my troll’s until we got to his ULTIMATE FORM (the one he’s in now). Unfortunately this came at the cost of (oopsie) alienating the fire nation his matesprit, since I never RP’d him much and also randomly went on hiatus.

Platar: I wanted a gas mask troll who burned things. I think the original ORIGINAL idea I had was just ‘world war 1 troll.’ He always carried deadly clouds of poison around with him in sealed containers to show off to other trolls. He was also hideously scarred under his mask thanks to accidentally exposing himself to a large batch of mustard gas, a secret no one ever actually found out. He’s changed entirely up to this point, since he’s now an extremely loyal member of the empire hellbent on proving the worth of his supposed ancestor and burning out all traces of heresy and criminality from the glorious Empire.

#everyone things #text post terror

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