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shireness-says · 5 years

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If I Could See Your Face Once More (3/6)

Summary: This time, there’s no celebration at Granny’s when the latest crisis has been resolved. Instead, they’re left to deal with the body of Killian Jones. A 5B canon divergence where Killian dies in Camelot, never becoming a Dark One. Rated T for language. Also on AO3. ~6.6K. Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A/N: I ended up switching days to post my third @csmarchmadness, so here’s Chapter 3, a day earlier than expected! Thanks, as always, to @xemmaloveskillianx for organizing the even and @snidgetsafan for beta-ing, as well as the discord ladies for helping me figure out where parts of this section were going.

Thanks for all your wonderful feedback so far - I’m so glad you’re liking where I’ve taken this! I’ll have Chapter 4 up as soon as I can - it’s about half written now, so hopefully I can buckle down on the rest. Brace yourselves for the angst, guys.

Tagging: @thejollyroger-writer, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @ultraluckycatnd, @superchocovian, @snowbellewells, @killianjones4ever82, @wellhellotragic, @ohmakemeahercules. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to the list!

Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy!

As far as rude awakenings go, the entire house shaking has to top the list.

While half asleep, Killian had been happy to write it off as Emma tossing around in bed, as she’s prone to do (his favorite little bed hog), but as the shaking continues, shaking him fully out of slumber and straight into panic instead, it becomes obvious that something is happening. Something dire, something unusual even for the Underworld. It makes him sit bolt upright in bed, alert and trying to safely discern what the hell is going on as Emma grumbles incoherently at the sudden removal of her human pillow.

“Wake up, love,” he says urgently. When she just groans, not willing to rouse herself from her hazy dreamland, Killian resorts to shaking her. “Emma, love, you’ve got to wake up, something’s the matter.”

Just then, the shaking abruptly stops. Emma blearily blinks up at at him, blessedly awake. “Was something… shaking?” She asks groggily.

“Aye. I don’t know what,” he replies, quickly getting out of bed and moving to retrieve his trousers and shirt. Unlike certain blondes in his life, he’s always careful to fold his laundry and either put it away or into the dirty clothes basket instead of tossing them into corners willy-nilly.

“Well we’ve got to go find out!” Emma shoots right back, tossing the covers back and swinging her legs over the side of the mattress.

“Aye. I’d think it was an earthquake, but down here —” Killian’s train of thought is abruptly cut off as he hears a soft oof from Emma, followed by an alarming screech of bedsprings. When he whips back around from where he had been facing away from the bed, Emma is sitting wide-eyed, both hands gripping at the edge of the mattress.

Killian’s certain he’s never moved faster, crouching down in front of Emma in a flash and reaching for her hand. “Are you alright, Emma? Love, talk to me. Are you okay, is the baby okay?”

“Calm down, Captain. Everything’s fine, I just stood up too fast, blood rush or whatever.” Patting his hand briefly, she stands back up again, this time without any problems, and moves to collect her own jeans and sweater.

Emma may not seem too concerned, but the incident - small as it is - really throws things into harsh perspective. He’s already been wrestling with guilt over the fact that Emma’s here, in danger, in the first place - not to mention Henry and their unborn child - but this really reminds him of all the other, more mundane dangers facing them. Emma’s a woman of action; he’s always known that, it was one of the many myriad of things that made him fall in love with her in the first place. But that same impulsiveness, that same urge to help that drives her to action, puts her in a lot of dangerous situations - not just crazy things like this, things that would only happen to the Savior, but everyday dangers too. Her job as Sheriff doesn’t help; Storybrooke is a quiet town, but even quiet towns can host robberies gone wrong or domestic disputes or any number of other circumstances that might prove dangerous, or even deadly, to a bold sheriff too concerned with saving others to worry enough about herself.

“Maybe you should let us investigate this one, love,” he hazards cautiously. This will almost certainly come back to bite him, but he feels he can’t go without saying something. She already can only use her magic sparingly, and guns and swords won’t do much against the already deceased. Standing by while she charges into danger just feels like he’s playing a part in whatever harm might come to them.

Emma looks over at him as she pulls her jeans on, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips in disapproval before turning back to button her pants. Their little one protrudes just enough that she’s had to rig up a new closure system with a hair binder, something Killian usually finds adorable, but today just reminds him of how much is at stake. “I’m fine, Killian,” she sighs, exasperation tinging her tone. “I’m not about to break.”

“I know you’re strong and hearty, love, but we don’t know what we’re facing out there. And there’s the babe to think about now, too,” he presses.

“What, so I’m supposed to just sit around here, twiddling my thumbs while everyone else rushes off into God only knows what? I’m supposed to be here to save you! I can’t do that just sitting on my ass!”

“I can’t let you do that though at the cost of your own life! I’m already dead, Emma - what the hell else can happen to me?”

Killian regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Still, seeing the tears pooling at the bottom of her eyes is like a stab through his heart. He hopes they’re a product of her fluctuating hormones, but he’s afraid they’re not; that feels like denying responsibility anyways, and those tears are certainly his fault.

“Emma, love…” he tries again, reaching for her, but she just shakes her head and leaves the room, leaving Killian all alone. With a sigh, he turns to finish securing his brace and shrugging on a shirt.

Give them both a moment to calm down; then he’ll turn his attention to fixing the mess he’s made.

He doesn’t get a chance, though, Regina already waiting in their living room when Killian finally makes it down the stairs. He wants to go straight to Emma, to try and make up (or, ideally, come to some kind of compromise that keeps her safe but still involved) and put this whole thing behind them, but they can’t do that with Regina standing right there.

“Madame Mayor,” he nods. Things have never been exactly natural between himself and the former Evil Queen; it’s easiest to fall back on practiced formalities. Still, that won’t stop him from asking why she’s here. It is still his own house, after all, and a man is entitled to such things. “May I ask what you’re doing here, Your Majesty? Or how, for that matter, since I didn’t hear the front door or doorbell?”

Regina sniffs in mild disdain at the questioning; he probably shouldn’t have expected any less. “Unlike your girlfriend here,” she emphasizes, “there’s nothing wrong with my magic.” At Killian’s blank stare - more unamused than confused, in truth - she elaborates. “I transported myself over into your living room. You felt the disturbance I assume, unless you’re even more oblivious than I gave you credit for?” Ignoring the jibe, Killian nods curtly. “Well, my sister dearest managed to get herself pulled into a portal. With the baby at that.”

“Are they both alright?” Emma asks, blessedly keeping the focus on the problem at hand before the Queen goes off on a rant about her sister (deserved or not).

“Zelena twisted her ankle upon landing, but Vera’s fine.” It’s obvious from Regina’s tone which person’s wellbeing she finds important. “Hades had some underling waiting, but Greenie was able to scare him off with her magic. As far as anyone can tell, he wanted the baby for some purpose, and Zelena was just collateral damage.”

“Robin must be relieved that the little one is alright,” Killian comments. What was the baby’s name? Vera? Soon enough, he and Emma will have to be picking out names for their own babe, if they can just both make it out of the Underworld in one piece.

“He is. We both are,” Regina agrees, a smile almost teasing at the edges of her mouth before she snaps back to her businesslike facade again. “Zelena thinks she might know something, however, and I’d really like to get home and away from the miserable bitch as soon as possible, so if you’re done with the small talk…” she trails off, fixing both Killian and Emma in turn with an expectant look.

Killian jumps to retrieve Emma’s heavy coat and his own leather jacket. They may not have a chance to talk for a while, not with the rush of everything happening, but maybe he can show his love, his care, his apology in smaller ways. She meets his eyes briefly as he opens the coat wide to slip her arms into, and he tries to put all the words he can’t yet say into a small smile; part apology, part reassurance, all love. Emma just looks away, though, reaching for her hat and gloves instead.

Not a good sign.

“I can only take you one at a time,” Regina warns brusquely, “so you’re going to have to wait a moment, Captain.”

“That’s fine,” he assures. “I should collect my brother anyways.”

“Are you sure that’s a wise idea, after his little disappearing act the other day?” Regina demands. She’s always cut straight to the point, and Killian usually appreciates that - hell, would admire it in anyone else - but he finds himself wishing she would perhaps mince her words just a bit. There’s something to be said for tact in small doses. It also reminds him that while the group at large knows that something happened yesterday for both he and Liam to suddenly disappear for hours on end, they don’t know all the detail of Liam’s betrayal.

“No, but for better or worse, I’m hoping he’ll have insights that will be of use to us.” Killian keeps things as vague as possible, but Regina looks like she suspects something’s up all the same. Not that it’s not warranted. The first order of business today will have to be making Liam confess to everyone. It’s as good a penance as any; Killian certainly wouldn’t want to face an angry Regina, let alone the Lady Snow. As much as he’s looking forward to his brother being interrogated by the Evil Queen, however, he’s not keen on receiving the same treatment himself. It’ll be a miracle if he can get out of the house without her demanding any more answers. “I’ll meet you at the Mayor’s Mansion as soon as I can,” he excuses, moving to leave. Things are still unsettled between himself and Emma, but it feels wrong to just leave without any gesture towards her, so he quickly drops a kiss on her cheek on his way to the door, letting their fingers brush in passing. She doesn’t say anything, or move to make it a real kiss, but she doesn’t pull away from him either, which Killian is willing to take as a small success.

Getting better.

It’s only a short walk from the house to the harbor, where Liam is already up and about on the Jolly Roger. “Brother!” he calls. “Did you feel the quaking?”

A burst of irritation fizzles through Killian’s veins. What does Liam think he is, some kind of imbecile? Brother knows best. It makes him wonder if his brother was always like this, and Killian was just too blinded by devotion to see it.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” he grinds out. “Gather whatever you need, we’re expected back at the Mayor’s Mansion.”

“I take it you’re still mad at me,” Liam comments on his way down the gangplank.

“Aye, well, it’s not exactly something you get over in only one night,” Killian snipes back.

“Killian, please —”

“No, this is what’s going to happen,” Killian interrupts. “We’re going to go and face Emma’s family - my family and friends, and explain exactly what you did, what you told Hades, what was on those pages. You are going to do everything you can to help us. And it still won’t fully make up for what you tried to do to me, what you tried to take from me, but it will at least be a start, and we can evaluate from there. Understood?”

“Aye, Brother, but what do you think this —”

“Further discussion will not be necessary.”

The rest of their walk is pretty quiet after that.

To his credit, Liam does confess to the group at large without any extra prodding. Reactions are almost exactly what Killian would have expected: Henry is furious at the betrayal, Belle is shocked, Snow seems to be hovering somewhere around maternal disappointment, and Regina rolls her eyes.

“Can you at least tell us what was on the pages?” she sighs, her voice sounding absolutely exhausted for this early in the day. That’s a feat, Killian can’t help but think as he watches the haughty mayor rub at her temples as if to make a headache go away.

“I wasn’t exactly looking too closely at their contents,” Liam admits with a wince. “All I can tell you is that illustration depicted some sort of rock, or gemstone.”

“It’s a crystal,” Zelena’s voice calls from the doorway, where she’d apparently limped over. “The Olympian Crystal.” Killian hadn’t seen her when he came in; he assumes they got the inevitable sniping out of the way before Killian arrived back at the Mayor’s Mansion with Liam. Not that he regrets missing it; even if he wasn’t already predisposed to dislike the Wicked Witch, especially after the incidents of the Second Curse - he’s not likely to soon forget her attempt to manipulate and drown him, thank you very much - her particular brand of constant drama isn’t to Killian’s taste. In his opinion, it’s never a good sign when he, the man who devoted centuries of his life to the pursuit of revenge, thinks you’ve gone a little too far.

“How can you be so certain of that?” Robin bites back. It’s harsher than Killian is used to from the easy-going bandit, but after everything Zelena has done to him, Killian supposes that’s warranted.

“Hades and I have clashed before. And unlike some of us here,” she says pointedly, “I’m willing to dig up a little research about my enemies so I can attack them head-on, instead of rushing in with some half-cocked plan.” There’s no telling who that was aimed at; probably Regina, but it could frankly apply to half the people in the room.

“Yes, you’re a champion researcher, we bow to you in awe,” Regina drawls sarcastically. “Do you want to tell the rest of the class about this ‘Olympic Crystal’, or do you just want to brag?”

“It’s the Olympian Crystal, since you obviously weren’t listening,” Zelena snaps back. Ah, siblings. “Supposedly, it’s a divine weapon that can be used to defeat Hades.”

“And you never used it? What a go-getter you are, sis.”

“He never came back after that frankly bizarre attempt to snatch Oz from under my nose, and unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to go actively looking for trouble! I never needed to use it!”

“Well maybe if you had we wouldn’t —”

“Alright,” David interrupts, blessedly so in Killian’s opinion. “Do you know where we can find this… Crystal?”

“No, Blondie,” Zelena sneers. “Like I said: I never needed to.”

That sits with all of them for a moment. This had seemed like such a good lead, but there’s nowhere to take it. Maybe the Crystal wouldn’t bring Killian back to life, but it could take Hades out of the picture, remove a major hurdle to their quest. But without any idea of where to find it, they’re just stuck.

“We could talk to the Apprentice,” Henry suggests suddenly. “I mean, he’s got to be down here, right?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Regina comments, the pride and surprise warring in her voice.

“Well done, lad,” Killian murmurs, nudging Henry affectionately.

“Okay, so we go see the Apprentice,” David says, no small amount of impatience tinging his tone and no doubt fueling his decisiveness on the matter.

“You can do that. I’ll start here with the baby, I couldn’t possibly walk on my ankle,” Zelena sniffs. With that, the room dissolves into a chaos of Robin and Regina protesting and insisting she can’t be left alone with Vera, as David starts just as loudly insisting that they need to leave right now, they can’t afford to waste time.

In the midst of all that, Killian takes the opportunity to tug on Emma’s sleeve. “Can we talk for a moment, love?”

She nods and follows him readily to an unused office, but still doesn’t say anything, instead crossing her arms over her chest and shifting from foot to foot. She looks nervous about this conversation, he realizes, and that helps a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” he says, diving right in. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were putting the baby in danger.”

“I know,” she replies quietly, still shuffling her feet. “My emotions are running so high right now, and I just…” she pauses, apparently collecting herself. “I just want to go home. With you. As soon as we can.”

“I know, love, I do too. I’m just horribly afraid that it’ll be at some awful cost. You’re already trapped here by that headstone. I’m thankful for everything you’re doing to save me, but I’m terrified it’ll be at the cost of someone else’s life - your own, or the Bean’s, or anyone else’s. Especially our child. You and I…” he pauses, organizing his thoughts. “You and I, we didn’t have happy childhoods. We didn’t even have safe childhoods, and I’ve always known that if I was lucky enough to have a child, I’d do my damndest to protect them for anything that might hurt them. The little one isn’t even here, and I already feel like I’ve failed at keeping them safe. What kind of parent does that?” he begs.

“It’s not your fault, Killian,” Emma assures him, stepping forward to cup his cheek in her hand. “You’re doing your best, and the fact that you’re trying is what’s going to make you a great dad.”

Killian smiles weakly back at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he assures Emma. “It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. But with everything that’s going on, I just…” Worry. Overreact. Wonder if I’m really worth it all.

“I know,” Emma says, and he really thinks she might. She’s always been able to see right through him, after all. “There’s going to come a time where I need to do that, take a backseat, and I’ll let you fuss over me all you want then. But for now…”

“For now, you’ve got it,” Killian finishes. He’ll still worry, of course, still try to protect her when they’re out in the field, fighting the forces of evil, but how is that different from before, really? He’s been by her side since Neverland, trying to keep her safe and happy. Now there’s just a little someone else to watch over as well. “I love you,” he says, making sure to look her in the eyes and attempt to impart exactly how much he means the words.

“I love you too,” Emma smiles back, pressing up for a kiss. Killian’s hand drops to her waist out of habit, allowing his thumb to brush over her growing stomach. “Now, you ready to go see a magician about a crystal?”

“Aye, love. Lead the way.”

———

The Apprentice lives in the same little cottage that he did in the living world, though his window boxes and garden beds are sadly empty. This place isn’t conducive to any form of life, even that of a more botanical bent. In truth, Killian dreads this visit due to all the messy history between himself and the mystical old man. The Apprentice may have seemed to forgive Killian before his untimely death at the hands of the Darkness, despite everything he had done, but Killian isn’t sure he’s forgiven himself. No matter how many times Emma and Henry tell him that he can’t be held responsible for trapping the fairies and the Apprentice in the hat, no matter the fact that he knows Gold was pulling the strings that whole episode, Killian still feels guilty. Even if he wasn’t in control of himself at the time, he was the one that sucked everyone into some unspeakable in-between world, that had to listen to their screams and watch them fight against the portal’s winds. It was a terrible reminder of all the darkness he’s capable of and had succumbed to in the past. Facing the Apprentice is a terrible reminder of all that.

He doesn’t offer any judgement as he opens the door, though, doesn’t slam it in Killian’s face (as would be well deserved) or even demand to know why they’re here. Instead, he just nods knowingly before opening the door wider to let everyone through.

“You’re here about the Olympian Crystal,” the Apprentice says as they file past into his little parlor. It’s a statement, a fact, not a question. He knows this, and is just waiting for everyone else to realize it.

“Yes, actually,” Killian replies. A not-insignificant part of himself wants to know how exactly the Apprentice knew what they were here for, but it seems rude somehow to ask. Looking through their little crowd, his companions seem to be wondering the same thing, if their confused expressions are anything to go by - Regina being the obvious exception, far too regal and refined for such emotional transparency. The man is a powerful magician; who are they to demand an explanation for his methods?

Thankfully, the old man seems to sense their puzzlement. “My master’s book of prophecies has foretold many things, both in life and now in death,” he explains. Ah, yes, Merlin. Killian had been impressed, if somewhat intimidated, by the man’s powers of foresight in Camelot; with so many centuries on his hands, it makes a certain amount of sense that he put some of his visions down to paper for his Apprentice’s reference. “Please, sit,” he offers, sweeping an arm towards the old fashioned upholstered chairs. “I assume you have many questions.”

“Yes, actually,” Snow replies, apparently taking the lead in this conversation. That might be for the best, actually; she has more tact than any of the rest of them. “What exactly is this Crystal? We’ve only just learned of the existence of the myths surrounding it.”

“And what did those legends say?”

“That it has the power to defeat Hades,” Emma replies, cutting to the point. Never one to mince words, his love. “And it’s a real thing? Not just a story?”

“It’s a real thing,” the Apprentice confirms, “one of Zeus’ thunderbolts made into solid form. Its efficacy against a god has never been tested, and so is yet to be seen, but I can tell you this for certain: it’s a powerful tool with the power of life and death.”

“Does that mean we could use it to help Killian?” Henry asks eagerly. Killian and Emma both lean forward in anticipation of the answer, as if the closer proximity will give them better - or at least faster - news. Could this be it, the solution to their problem?

“In the right hands, yes,” the Apprentice agrees. Even that conditional agreement makes Killian’s heart race with hope. “It is beyond my knowledge how to use it, however. I assume that it’s a conduit of some kind - a tool to amplify magic, a divine wand.”

“We can work with that,” David nods, his face set in determination. This must have been how he looked back in the Enchanted Forest as the consort of a bandit princess - a solid born leader. “Emma’s the Savior - if any magic could activate the powers of the Crystal, it’d be hers.”

“And do you know where it is?” Emma asks, steering the conversation back on topic.

“The book says that when it fell from Olympus, it landed in the River of Lost Souls. Unfortunately, it was less illustrative as to the specifics of where in the River.”

“And I suppose that’s the toxic river we already had to deal with to rescue Hook in the first place,” Regina deadpans, eliciting a nod of confirmation from the Apprentice. “Excellent.”

“Yeah but if this is the thing that can bring Killian back with us —” Emma starts to argue, before Regina cuts her off.

“Yes, that’s fine, don’t jump down my throat. I’m not suggesting we don’t pursue this, I’m just saying that it’s going to be difficult. Remember the part where the waters basically steal your soul and wipe your memories?”

“I don’t suppose you have a solution for that?” Killian asks the Apprentice, quickly redirecting before Emma and Regina can snipe at each other any more.

The other man just shakes his head in the negative though, sending a chill through Killian’s lifeless veins. “So what, that’s a one-way trip for someone?”

“Perhaps the Crystal can undo the River’s damage, but that’s never been tested, of course,” the old man explains.

“And there’s no other way?” Belle asks.

“There’s tales of an ambrosia bush, but it’s been lost for centuries. Even Merlin’s records don’t offer any clue to its whereabouts.”

“And I can’t just… write it into existence?” Henry cuts in.

“That’s beyond the abilities of the Author. Your job is merely to record. Argue all you like,” he tells the collected group, “but this is the best way as things currently stand.”

“Yes, but it’s not actually a viable option, you see, because we’re not sacrificing anyone,” Killian explains, his patience officially having run out. “We’ll just have to find this ambrosia bush, then, because —”

“I’ll do it.”

All heads snap towards Liam at the sound of his voice. Surely he didn’t just say what Killian thinks he said? As they stare at him in shock, however, he repeats the words with even more firmness and determination. “I’ll do it. I’ll retrieve the Crystal.”

“Liam, you can’t —” Killian tries to protest, but it gets him nowhere.

“I’m the expendable one here, Brother,” he reminds Killian. “You and I are the only ones not living, and we’ve got to get you home. It has to be me.” More quietly, he adds a private plea for Killian’s ears only. “Let me do this, Killian. Let me make up for the hurt I’ve caused.”

“I can’t let you do it this way,” Killian insists. Of course he’s been furious with Liam, and still is in many ways, but this? This is going too far. This could turn Liam into a shade of himself if it fails.

“You have to, Killian. It’s the only way. Though I wouldn’t say no if your lady love were to cast some sort of protection spell,” he jokes in an attempt to lighten to mood. It doesn’t work, not in the least.

“He’s right,” Regina says. “We’ll try the protection spell, but as much as I hate to admit it, Captain Jones is right. He’s the one we can spare.”

(Killian especially hates hearing it from Regina, and especially like that - like his brother is just some tool to be used and disposed of.)

As much as Killian’s heart screams in protest at the thought of his brother sacrificing himself to possibly become nothing more than an empty shell, another permanent farewell, his head knows they’re right. It’s the only way, and if Killian wants to return to his future in the living world, he’s going to have to accept that sacrifice.

“It’s the only way,” he echoes softly, nodding in resignation.

He may be mad at his brother, but he never wanted this.

———

The cave system beneath the Underworld through which the River of Lost Souls flows is cold and damp, fostering a foreboding air as the chill sinks into all their bones. The otherworldly green glow of the River’s waters doesn’t help matters either, making the whole thing feel even more nightmarish in an already unworldly place. Curiously, it reminds Killian of the catacombs he once saw in a far off land, so long ago that he can’t remember the name anymore. The glimpse of metal structuring or the stone ledges carefully carved out of the rock is a bare reminder of human presence in this empty space - that this is somehow a place built by people, but not truly intended for them. The only word for it, truly, is eerie.

It takes less time to find the Crystal than expected - only a day and a half of searching - but they seem to simultaneously pass in a blink and stretch on forever. They’d divided into small groups to punt up and down the waterways - Killian, Emma, and her parents in one boat with Regina, Robin, and Liam in the other. There’d been some debate about the divide - David in particular had wanted to be in the other boat, seemingly wanting to keep a closer eye on Liam. That’s reasonable, Killian supposes, after everything that had been revealed earlier that day. It takes a good deal of scolding from both Emma and Snow to convince him to climb into their skiff, all capped off by a very charming “You’re being ridiculous, Dad, get over here before you piss Mom off even more. You’re coming with us.”

(Whatever works, right?)

Still, the squabbling is a waste of time. One thing they can all agree upon, however, is to keep Henry as far away from the search as possible. No one knows exactly what those waters would do to a living being, and they don’t care to find out - especially not with Henry. No one wants him anywhere near that water. Instead, he’s persuaded to stay up above with Belle, doing research about how to use this Crystal once they find it. Henry’s not happy about it, but he agrees eventually - especially when it becomes obvious that no one is caving. Ultimately, Killian thinks the only reason Henry goes without anymore fuss is that he’s tasked with the responsibility of watching over Belle and the baby, and especially of ensuring that Zelena doesn’t try to stage a kidnapping in Robin and Regina’s absence or otherwise betray them. Whatever it takes, Killian tells himself, and at least this lets the lad feel helpful. They’re not all disconnected from each other anyways - Regina rigs up a system of handheld mirrors to talk to each other in case problems arise or one of the parties actually finds the Crystal.

It’s Regina’s party that ultimately locates the bloody thing, somehow glowing even brighter underneath the murky green of the River of Souls. Ultimately, they decide to wait until the next morning to attempt to retrieve the Crystal itself, due both to time and the need to form a more concrete plan, and instead head home to rest. There’s a lot of discussion that night, none of which Killian particularly likes - especially since it relies on Emma casting a protection spell over Liam.

“That’s not my expertise,” Regina sniffs when Killian suggests she do it herself. “Savior magic would be much more effective in this circumstance.”

Savior magic or not, though, the fact remains that magic has exhausted Emma since she became pregnant. There’s no hospital down here to go to if she passes out again, and Killian is terrified of something happening.

“It’ll be fine,” Emma tries to reassure him quietly, squeezing his hand in an attempt at comfort. “It’ll just be a moment and then you can make me rest.”

Under other circumstances, maybe Killian would try to argue or find another way, but the fact of the matter is that they’ve been backed into a corner. This is the only plan they have to rescue him from the Underworld, and the only way they can both retrieve the Crystal and offer Liam some marginal protection from the danger of the green waters is to draw upon Emma’s powers. There’s no other way. When Emma insists that she can do it, too, there’s even less point in trying to argue. It’s just how things will have to be.

Killian sits up for a drink with Liam that night, the last before Gods only know what will happen. It’s impossible to find the right words to say, though: I wish things were different? I don’t know if I forgive you, but I want to try? Thank you for what you’re about to do? I never needed you to make up for your actions in this way? I’ve never needed a hero, just a brother? Ever since Liam’s betrayal, Killian has been a mess of emotions, and his brother’s volunteering to retrieve the Crystal, more than likely at his own peril, has only added more conflicting feelings to the mix. This is the brother he remembers from his youth - the born leader, the man who’d rather put himself in danger before anyone else, but it seems almost disingenuous. Too little, too late and all that.

Still, as Liam drops his head after dragging minutes of silence, rising to deposit his glass in the sink, Killian feels that rush of panic that this might be the last time. “Liam…” he starts, forcing himself to try one last time to say everything on his mind, maybe find some sort of closure with the brother he’s idolized more than anyone only for him to let Killianhim down more than anyone elseever has. It doesn’t work; the words don’t magically appear upon his tongue, and his words trail off into nothing.

Nevertheless, Liam smiles and drops his hand to pat Killian’s shoulder. “I know, Brother,” he assures. And maybe he does. Liam was always good at understanding the words unsaid, and something about his face says that he sees all the mess of love and hurt and anger and worry on Killian’s own visage.

It doesn’t make things any easier when the fateful moment comes and Liam stands at the edge of the stone landing, stripped out of his shoes and coat and tying the end of a rope around his waist. It had been decided that, should worst come to worst, they’d need a way to retrieve Liam, with or without the Crystal. It’s entirely possible that due to the water’s properties, he could reach the Crystal and just forget to swim back up. In fact, there’s so many ways that this could go wrong, but Killian is trying not to think of any of them. Trying.

(Failing. All his fault…)

A small blessing is that Emma had cast a protection spell around Liam without any problems. Killian had hovered anxiously at her side, just in case she’d become faint again, but it had been unnecessary. Put it down to a good breakfast or her previous abstinence from using magic. At Killian’s pestering, she’d admitted that her magic, that well of power within her she’s never been able to fully describe, feels depleted, but as close as he’s watching, it hasn’t seemed to exhaust her body and mind along with it.

“I’m fine,” she smiles, squeezing his forearm affectionately, and he doesn’t have any reason not to believe that. Before she can drop her hand back down to her side, Killian quickly catches it, lacing their fingers together and squeezing back as he turns towards his brother.

“You don’t have to do this,” Killian offers one last time as Liam eyes the glowing green waters and the Crystal sunken beneath them.

Liam exhales a breath before turning to face Killian. “You know I do.” The silence of so many words unsaid, so many things they could say and should say and need to say hangs heavy in the air. Everyone else has the tact to give them a little space. Liam breaks the oppressive stillness to pull Killian into an almost aggressive hug. “I love you, Brother,” he whispers fiercely.

And really, that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? Beneath everything else Killian is feeling right now, he loves Liam. Always has, always will. That’s all that matters, especially now in what might be their last moments together is this goes poorly. “I love you too,” he whispers back into the flesh of Liam’s shoulder, the spot he always used to rest his head as a young lad, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.

When they break apart, Liam nods briskly, his face settling again into an expression of determination as he turns towards the rest of their little group. “Are you ready with the rope?” he asks.

“Whenever you are, Captain,” Robin promises with his usual good humor.

“No sense in waiting, then,” Liam concludes. And with a final brave smile in Killian’s direction, he executes a neat dive into the River.

It feels like an eternity, watching Liam dive ever deeper towards the bottom of the riverbed. Killian feels like he’s holding his breath the entire while, disregarding the fact that he no longer has any breath to hold. It’s terrifying to watch. The Crystal doesn’t appear to be too far below the surface, but Liam keeps swimming and swimming and reaching and reaching and never quite getting there. All the while, they can see Emma’s protective spell spark and fizzle, visibly disintegrating under the erosion of the waters. Even as Killian thinks it, he spots pieces flaking off and floating to the surface even as Liam is still forced to keep going. It feels like watching his brother die right before his eyes again, and Killian can’t do a damn thing to stop it.

By some miracle, though, Liam keeps going. They all stand ready by the rope, ready to pull him back up, but his brother doesn’t show any signs of the confusion the River of Souls could visit upon him. Maybe this could work, maybe all hope isn’t lost —

And it isn’t. Liam grabs onto the Crystal and Killian lets out all that breath he’d been holding unnecessarily, slumping forward with relief. Below the surface, Liam kicks off from the bottom and swims for the surface, ascending at what seems a much quicker pace than his descent. That may just be an illusion though; Killian knows how time can drag when faced with that kind of dread.

Liam breaks the water’s surface with a grin, shaking his head and sending droplets flying. “It seems there might be some truth to the stories about this thing,” he declares. “It certainly healed me.”

Killian lurches forward to envelop his brother in a desperate hug as soon as Liam is back on dry land. He can’t even bring himself to be bothered by the way Liam is no doubt soaking his clothes, so great is his relief. “Thank the gods it did,” he mutters. “Thank the gods you’re okay.”

“Of course I am, Brother,” Liam whispers back. “You thought I could leave you again?”

Killian holds tight for a moment longer before a pointed clearing of Regina’s throat breaks them apart. “Can we return to less humid ground now that we have the damn thing? Or are you two planning to stay down here for the foreseeable future?”

“After you, Your Majesty,” Killian gladly cedes. As they all settle back in the boats to make their way back towards the elevator and upper surface of the Underworld, Killian gladly pulls Emma into his side, dropping a kiss on the crown of her hair and drawing comfort from her presence. Finally, finally there’s a glimmer of hope that they might actually be able to save him.

When the elevator doors open, however, it’s to reveal their worst case scenario: Hades himself standing between the doors and where Belle is trying to protect Henry with her very body.

“So good of you to show up!” the god oozes. “Have I got a proposition for you!”

#cs march madness #captain swan #cs ff #cs angst #my writing #If I Could See Your Face Once More #Chapter 3 #where is all this angst coming from #sorry for what i'm putting everyone through

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

La Douleur Exquise - Jungkook One Shot

La Douleur Exquise

noun

1. The pain of loving someone that you know you can never have; by circumstance or subjective decision.

Requested: No!

Description: Loving someone is pretty incredible. The world seems rosier, more alive. Even unrequited love can be beautiful, as long as you don’t start wanting more. Y/N and Jungkook have been friends for as long as they could talk, but what happens when Y/N finally decides they’ve finally had enough of keeping their secret feelings secret?

Word Count: 9.4k

Pairing: Jungkook x gender neutral reader

Tags: College!Au, Non-Idol!Au, Unrequited love

Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Some cursing, alcohol, lots of angst because I can’t help myself

A/N: Hi you guys! So I’ve decided that since I have loads of free time, I’m going to start posting short pieces between my scheduled postings of The Parting. This is just to give you guys a little taste of the sort of things I can write for you if you want to request anything! If so, please follow the request protocol found here. I’m currently working on the requests I’ve gotten so far, so don’t worry! For those of you who already requested, your stories should be out in the next few days!

“It’s okay,” you said, glancing at your empty hands with a soft, resigned smile. “You don’t have to love me back.”

It had been quite a while since you’d been on campus so late, used to studying either at home or at local coffee shops to stay awake. You almost felt like a kid again. As night encroached, the world had gone hazy with the pastel colors of sunset, lilac clouds turning indigo outside the window beside which you sat, staring down at the quad as the stray students wandered through the grass holding books or bags or lovers’ hands. The classroom was darkening rapidly into shades of blue and the only two souls left in the Humanities building were you and-

“Jungkook!” called a voice from the doorway, flooding yellow fluorescent light into the quiet room. You were wrong. Apparently, there were three souls left in the Humanities building.

You and Jungkook turned, the latter with shock etched into his soft features and brown eyes like saucers, to greet your classmate, sixth-year super-senior Jung Hoseok. He stood blocking the light from the hallway, casting an eerily long shadow across the floor that nearly touched you. You couldn’t help but feel like that shadow was a bad omen somehow…

Jungkook whipped his head back to you and blinked wordlessly, mouth agape. You could have figured as much. He wasn’t the best when it came to unplanned events, and you were certain that his best friend of two decades confessing wasn’t something he’d planned. Hoseok stood watching with crossed arms, brows raised in question.

“Hello? Earth to Jungkook?” he said, waving his arms wildly. “You going to the bus stop or not?”

Jungkook shook his head and held a finger up to silence your classmate. You thought he’d left with the rest of the project group an hour ago, but he’d stuck around doing who knows what. Despite yourself and despite the ache in your chest that you hoped would dissipate after your confession, you chuckled and nodded, hopping off the wide windowsill and clapping your hands. Had the air between you and Jungkook always been so awkward?

You stepped carefully around his stunned body, mindful not to allow your skin to touch, and cleared your throat. “I think he’s broken,” you said with a laugh. “But I’m going that way. Let’s go together.”

Jungkook shook his head and turned around to stare at the two of you, thoughts innumerable running through his mind. It was obvious to anyone looking. He was shell-shocked. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, too much is happening all at once,” he said, gripping the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb and squeezing his eyes shut. It was a good thing too, since you were pretty sure he hadn’t blinked once since you’d confessed.

You met his eyes with a patient smile and nodded. “It’s okay, Kook,” you said, your voice a soft breath in the stagnant air. “Don’t feel overwhelmed. If it helps, just forget I said anything at all.”

“Said what? What happened?” asked Hoseok, pointing between the two of you with narrowed eyes.

You laughed and hooked an elbow around his neck, roughing up his hair as you wheeled the two of you out into the hallway. “Nothing, idiot. Read the room a little,” you said in a terse whisper as the two of you rounded the corner, leaving Jungkook standing alone in the twilight-drenched classroom.

“How did it go?”

“Well, I’m here and not off on a date somewhere. How do you think it went?”

Your roommate, Jimin, sat upright on the leather sofa he’d insisted upon buying once he’d graduated and turned to you sharply as you sighed and set your keys on the kitchen table. You hadn’t looked at him as you’d entered the apartment and kicked off your shoes, but now that you caught sight of him your breath escaped in a laugh and you shook your head. With his hair restrained in a cotton headband, he stared at you with wide eyes and nothing else, a panda face in the place where his features used to be. He’d always enjoyed those campy face masks.

“Well what in the fresh hell are you laughing about if you just got rejected?” he asked, though his words were rigid as he hadn’t the usual range of motion in his lips.

You grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and turned back to him. What exactly could you say? You were so used to the sadness that it was no longer sad and had become funny? You’d expected it after such a lengthy unrequited love? You hadn’t even had the confidence to imagine a reality in which he would accept you? Instead of saying anything at all, you simply sighed and collapsed onto the couch beside your roommate, pulling your legs into a criss-cross and leaning back into the cushions.

“What are we watching?” you asked, pointing at the TV which he had paused upon your arrival.

Jimin cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatshirt, sitting straighter. “Hello Counselor,” he said stiffly. “This kid is so obsessed with his plushies that he takes them on vacation.”

You raised your brows and nodded. “Perfect,” you said, pushing the tab on your beer and taking a hearty swig. “I need to be reminded that there are people whose lives suck more than mine.”

He sighed and gave your head a soft push before pressing play. “Don’t be too down on yourself, alright? Jungkook was always an idiot. You could do better.”

You laughed. “You’re right. I’m not gonna lose sleep over an idiot anymore,” you said with a nod and another deep drink of beer. “You got another face mask?”

Jimin nodded and reached across the space between the couch and the coffee table for another one. “I bought an extra for you in case things didn’t go well.”

You laughed as you ripped open the packaging. You supposed things could be worse. Sure, you’d just confessed your feelings to your crush of ten years and received an icy reaction, but at least you still had your friends who cherished you.

And plenty of panda face masks.

God, you thought as you watched him walk into the classroom on Monday morning, is he trying to kill me? Jungkook had emerged from the hallway clad in the outfit you told him you liked best: the white shirt and ripped jeans. He stood in front of the class for a long moment, scanning the rows of desks with a copy of Wuthering Heights in his hand. He’d never wavered before in choosing a seat, always falling easily into the one beside you. Romantic Era Literature was the only class you two had together this semester. Jungkook was a photography major after all, so your courses had little overlap.

Today, however, he looked to be struggling. You sighed and rested your cheek in your hand, setting your eyes low as he finally, begrudgingly, approached and settled beside you. You noted his posture. Where once his shoulders slumped comfortably, now they were perfectly erect. Where once his limbs would be tangled over your desk without a thought, they were now kept neatly in his space. Although it hurt, part of you felt sickly relieved. Perhaps even vindicated.

Because after years of being painfully comfortable, he was finally seeing what it felt like to be so conscious of someone else that it bordered on hyperactive. Just like you had all along.

You glanced at him and offered a smile like always which he returned in a way that was…decidedly not like always. “Mornin’,” you said before resting your cheek on your desk and turning your face away from him.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Did you…have a good weekend?”

You nodded. “Fine.”

“That’s nice,” he said. “Um…about what you said on Friday-,”

You sat upright and placed a hand over his lips. Was it just you, or did his cheeks feel slightly hot against your fingers? “Don’t. I told you to pretend I never said anything, right?” you asked.

He raised his brows. “Do what now? You meant that?”

You nodded and ran a hand through your hair. “I confessed for myself anyway,” you said with a smile. “Just to know I’ve said it once.”

“You…you kept it in for a long time?” he asked, brows knit.

You turned to him, puzzled, and tilted your head to the side. “Kept what in?” you asked.

He blinked at you, warm chestnut eyes scanning your face for a long while. “You really want me to forget it?” he asked, and the way he spoke made your heart sink a little. God, did he sound hopeful.

You smiled. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Kook,” you said, giving his shoulder a pat before resting your head on your desk once again. “Now shut up. I’m trying to nap.”

For a moment there was silence. A profound, thoughtful, pensive silence that droned and sat tangible in the air. You allowed the silence to envelop you like a stiff cotton blanket, itchy and uncomfortable but warm nonetheless. Just as you became accustomed to it, the silence was broken with the bubbling, boisterous laugh of your first real love, Jeon Jungkook. Laughing. Your insides were flipped and your head felt like it was swinging on a pendulum, and he was laughing. You didn’t know what was so funny to him, but as you shut your eyes and settled against the cool surface of your desk, you couldn’t help but find relief in his laughter which continued for a while before petering out into silence once more.

The sun beat down on the top of your head, pounding down on the earth below like an endless heat lamp. You draped yourself over the side of the picnic table at which you sat, cone of ice cream melting in your hands. The humidity was kicking up, and you’d decided today was as good a day as any to head to the pop-up ice cream shop you’d gone to when you were younger. And, upon hearing this idea, Jungkook had conveniently invited himself along.

It had been a week since your failure of a confession, and if you were being honest you were pretty glad things had kind of…phased back to normal. It had taken no time flat for Jungkook to reassume his previous attitude towards you. And you, surprisingly, found it a bit easier to be around him now that you’d finally gotten your feelings off your chest. That sort of thing can really weigh a person down and you’d decided not to regret it.

You were always the decisive one between the two of you. Where Jungkook wavered and flipped between options for fear of making the wrong choice, you stomped fearlessly ahead and stayed your course no matter what. Perhaps that was why Jimin, who had watched you pine after Jungkook since he met you two during your first year of college, hadn’t fought you when you’d told him your plan. Of course, it was destined to fail. What else could have happened when Jungkook had not only shown no interest in you, but had even gone so far as to date a few people who were definitely not you? The relationships never lasted. You often felt guilty for that, wondering if his partners found you troublesome because of your closeness to the stupid boy.

You’d simply been fed up. Fed up with seeing his bright smile and knowing it wasn’t for you. Fed up with how he would run his long fingers through his silky hair and knowing you’d never be able to do it yourself. Fed up with the dumb way he always played around with you without even the slightest idea of how cruel it was. Picking you up like you weighed nothing at all and tossing you over his shoulder, letting you feel just how strong and broad his shoulders were, how toned his back was as your hands dusted across it. Grabbing your hands and swinging them with a charming, rosy pout when he wanted something. Splaying his legs across your lap or wrapping his arms around your waist while you played video games together. Like it was nothing to him.

Like you were nothing to him.

“It’s too hot,” he whined, voice lilting like a child.

You glanced at him and raised your ice cream to your lips. “It’s June, what did you expect?” you asked, growing comfortable beneath the shade of a large tree. Jungkook had elected to sit opposite you, leaving him to bake in the sun.

Well, you supposed things hadn’t completely returned to normal.

He no longer did those things so easily. In fact, it seemed as if he was afraid to even touch you. Like you may break.

Perhaps you would…

Jungkook took a bite of his ice cream, careful not to allow the melting cream to fall on his white shirt. “And you keep wearing that shirt. Don’t you own another one?” you asked, pointing at him with your cone.

He glanced at you and rolled his eyes. “This isn’t the same one,” he said as he grabbed the seam of his oversized sleeve. “Look, this one has navy blue thread.”

“Ah, my sincerest apologies,” you said, laughing. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed lightly, tilting your head to the side. You shut your eyes and willed the sweat beading along your collarbone to dry up somehow.

Jungkook coughed a little, which caused your eyes to snap open. You watched him as he looked away, gaze frenetic as it passed over just about anything but your face. You caught a hint of red blooming across his high cheekbones. You furrowed your brow at him and leaned forward on the old picnic table, letting the wood creak beneath your weight.

“What’s up with you? Did you choke?” you asked with a laugh, scanning his face.

Finally, he met your eyes but it was only for the briefest moment before he continued coughing and looked away from you again. He nodded his head and covered his lips with his free hand, balled into a fist. You laughed and grabbed for the water bottle you’d packed in your backpack, sliding it across the table towards him.

He took it with a nod and downed about half before setting it back down on the table. “Thanks,” he breathed, clutching his chest with his eyes squeezed shut.

You chuckled and grabbed the water bottle once more. “You’re pretty, so it’s okay if you can’t breathe and eat ice cream at the same time,” you teased, to which his eyes opened wide and he stared at you, bewildered.

You cleared your throat and, in an effort to seem nonchalant, grabbed the water bottle that sat halfway between you, pressing the spout against your lips and taking a deep swig. “Whoa!” called Jungkook, grabbing for it and spilling water across the table. “I already drank out of there.”

You raised your brows and wiped the spray off of your shirt with a scoff. “What’s the big deal? We share drinks all the time,” you said, taking another lick of ice cream.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and stowed the rest of the water in his backpack. He glanced away, down towards the park beside where you sat, the children playing easily. He shrugged his shoulders before his posture went poor and he took another large bite of ice cream.

“It’s different.”

You supposed it really was.

“Jimin no,” you said.

“Jimin yes.” Your roommate grinned at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

You sighed and reclined against the kitchen table. “I don’t wanna go to a dumb party and do dumb shots listening to dumb music and-,”

“You’re avoiding it because Jungkook is going, aren’t you?”

You shut your mouth and scratched your arm, glancing towards the refrigerator. You’d never found the collection of polaroids you kept pinned there so fascinating. “Not exactly,” I mumbled.

He laughed and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder and leveling his gaze with yours. “Don’t lie to me, I’m too smart,” he said, laughing.

You met his eyes and sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It’s just…he’s been so weird! It’s been over two weeks now and even though we pretend things are normal, we both know they aren’t,” you said with a shrug. “Why put myself through watching him hook up with girls when I can avoid it? And besides, I don’t want him to have a bad time because of me.”

Jimin sighed, rolling his eyes, and backed away from you. “Can you maybe think a little positively? For, like, two minutes?” he asked.

You groaned and lolled your head to the side, shutting your eyes and screwing your mouth up. “What’s there to be positive about? He’s treating me weird.”

“He’s treating you different,” corrected Jimin, shaking your shoulder and rousing you from your position at the table. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No,” you said as you rubbed an ache at the back of your neck. “Maybe.”

“Well? There you have it.”

You shook him away from you and walked to the couch. “I didn’t think it would make everything different! I just…needed to say it.”

“That’s the thing with words, my dear,” said Jimin, draping his arms over your shoulders from behind the couch. “Once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

“Wish I could,” you said quietly.

He laughed and gave the side of your head a smack. “We’re going tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a proper house party,” he said, turning on his heel towards the hallway. “And I’m picking an outfit for you that’ll make you look like a saucy babe.”

You gagged. “Please don’t!” you called over your shoulder.

He tossed his head this way and that, pursing his lips. “Or a first-day prostitute.”

“Jimin!”

You had to admit…you were having a bit of fun. Between the alcohol coursing through your veins and the music loud enough to excuse you from any conversation you found tiring, you couldn’t deny that Jimin was right. The party wasn’t so bad. And you hadn’t so much as caught sight of Jungkook since arriving at the large house on the outskirts of the city. The music pumped through you and you felt it in your throat. Without really planning to, you’d found yourself a pretty good dance partner in the middle of the empty living room. With eyes squeezed shut in laughter and his hands occasionally guiding you through the punchy music, Jung Hoseok seemed an altogether different person.

“Say, are you deliberately not graduating so you still have an excuse to go to these parties?” you teased, clutching your cup close to your chest to prevent the precious amber liquid from sloshing onto the floor.

Hoseok peered down at you and laughed. “Caught me,” he said.

You chuckled. You knew from working on the project with him that he’d taken a few years off from college and his dance degree to travel and, even though you’d never have the courage to do it yourself, you thought the action was pretty cool. The song changed from a dance beat to something sultry, something that made your hips sway on their own. You caught Jimin’s eye across the sea of people dancing and found him chatting with a girl who had him backed against a wall. From the way he was looking at you, you could tell he was looking for an out. And as you were about to excuse yourself to help your friend, Hoseok’s hands found your waist and held you in place. You flushed and stared up at him to find him chuckling, leaning closer.

“Hoseok, what-,”

“I just wanna dance,” he said, his breath reeking of liquor.

You stiffened and took a sip of your own drink, glancing away. Your hips stopped moving as your lashes fluttered against your cheeks. Now you were looking for an out yourself. “I think my friend needs me,” you said quietly.

Hoseok chuckled and sighed, releasing you. “Whatever you say,” he said, stretching his hands over his head.

You cleared your throat and slipped between bodies which by then were moving like fluid around each other, following the sensual rhythm of the song. You cursed yourself. Not only was Hoseok handsome and good at dancing, he was pretty fun once you got him talking. Were you so far gone with Jungkook that you couldn’t even entertain the idea of being with someone else? You shook your head and squeezed out of the crowd, into the fray where Jimin stood, stiffly pressed against the wall with a strange girl’s hands on his chest, her lips close to the skin of his neck.

You approached and slipped beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and offering a pout. “Jiminie,” you whined as he stared down at you, relief clear as if flooded his features. “I missed you.”

The girl, a cute thing shorter than you even in heels with a pretty pin in her hair, turned her eyes to you and raised her brows. “Oh,” she said. “Oh shit, do you have a girlfriend?”

Jimin nodded and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, I do actually. We live together,” he said, laughing awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The girl covered her mouth and shook her head at you. “I’m so sorry! He didn’t say anything-,” she began, then shook her head once more. “I-uh, yeah I’ve gotta go…over here.” She turned and, waving over her shoulder, rushed into the pulsing heart of the party.

You sighed and leaned into Jimin’s side. “Why do you always get into so much trouble at these parties?” you asked, pinching his side.

Jimin jumped and quickly released your shoulders. “I don’t know!” he whined, staring down at you with knitted brows. “It’s like I’m catnip to crazy, aggressive college girls.”

You laughed and shoved his stomach slightly. “You’re so stupid.”

“Y/N,” said a voice from behind you.

You turned away from Jimin to see the one person you’d been desperately hoping to avoid. Jeon Jungkook stood looking effortless and handsome in a white button down shirt sitting just one button too open and pants too ripped for his own good. You swallowed and found his eyes once more. But that was even worse than his body. His face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, hair unruly, lips parted. You glanced away entirely. God, drunk you was even more dangerous than sober you…

“Hey, Kook,” said Jimin, clapping his shoulder. “Heard you rejected Y/N.”

“Jimin!” you shouted, giving his chest a hard smack. Even though Jungkook and Jimin were close, without you they wouldn’t be. You were the common link. And Jimin had made it clear on many occasions that if it ever came down to it, he’d choose you over him.

You never wanted him to have to make such a senseless choice.

Jungkook cleared his throat and ran a hand through his wild hair before meeting your eyes. “Um…I kinda…saw you dancing with Hoseok.”

“Classic,” said Jimin, rolling his eyes. “Jungkook, I love you but you’re literally so stupid. Like how can you reject someone and then-,”

“Jimin, do you value your life?” you asked, turning slowly to meet your friend’s eyes.

He coughed into the crook of his elbow and looked away. “I’m gonna…go get some drinks or something. Don’t be dumb!” he said, pointing at Jungkook before wheeling away towards the kitchen.

You sighed and waved your hand. “Ignore him. He’s just…being Jimin.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I don’t care about that,” he said, standing close to you. You could smell his faint cologne. His chest was a large expanse of partially-exposed skin before your eyes as he stood between you and the party. You glanced away and nodded. “Maybe…don’t hang out with Hoseok one-on-one too much, okay?”

Your eyes flashed at this and met his. “Huh?” you asked.

He wouldn’t look at you, focused on something behind your head as he set his lips thin. “He just has a bad reputation. Like, he goes through partners really quickly. You shouldn’t get hurt by someone like that.”

You inhaled sharply, watching the plane of his jaw constrict sharply against his neck, his eyes scanning the wall behind you. You watched the dewy sheen on his skin grow slightly heavier as he stood in the stuffy corner, obscuring you from the view of the rest of the world. You watched him exist, so close, so painfully close. If you reached your fingers out just a few centimeters, you could have touched him.

You shook your head and pushed him gently away from your body, giving yourself some room to breathe. To think. You glanced up and met his eyes. You were sure you were drunk. Too drunk to be talking with the love of your life at a party, that much was certain. And the words that came from your parted lips only proved it.

“You’re too cruel,” you whispered, shaking your head.

His brows raised as he stared down at you. “What?”

You smiled at him, a smile that felt sad on your mouth and bitter like liquor. “You’re really cruel, Jungkook.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head.

You nodded. “Exactly,” you said. “That’s the cruelest part.” You sighed and gave his shoulder a pat as you walked past him. “I’m gonna go dance. Will you hold on to my drink?”

He took the cup from your hands, fingertips brushing and butterflies flying rampant through your stomach. You smiled up at him and waved before disappearing into the thick of the crowd of bodies. The sexy song was still going strong, low notes and drawling pace. Everyone was pressed close together in pairs.

Everyone except for one person.

Hoseok stood dancing alone in the center of the crowd. You approached and, without warning, wrapped your arms about his shoulders, hooking your elbows behind his neck as he stared at you, stunned. After only a moment of surprise, his expression melted into a playful grin and he held you close by the hips, helping you find the rhythm.

“How did things go with the friend?” he asked, lips close to your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine.

You pressed yourself closer and, even though you couldn’t see him standing shocked at the edge of the crowd, you could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. You smiled and, your partner’s grip tightening on your hips. “They’re settled now,” you said.

The weather was starting to shift, just slightly. Where a few weeks ago there was blistering heat and sunlight strong enough to scorch your skin and melt your popsicle, now there was only a light breeze and a freshness in the air. Autumn was on its way, however slowly it was crawling. You sat in the quad, ankles crossed and head tossed back as you allowed the sunlight to caress your skin. All around you were groups of students, lounging as they enjoyed the long-awaited break in the humid, poor weather. The grass was filled with kids holding books or playing games. You smiled and shut your eyes with a contented sigh.

“Are you even paying attention?” asked Hoseok.

You opened one eye and shrugged. “Sure,” you said.

He sighed and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what did I just say then?”

You pursed your lips. “You said…I look really good in yellow,” you said, grinning at your big yellow shirt. He sighed and kicked your shin while you laughed, the two of you sharing his blanket.

“Wrong,” he said as he stuck out his tongue. “It’s true though.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes once more and leaning back on your palms. “What were you really saying, Hoseok?” you asked.

He sighed and began talking once more about an essay he’d been putting off. The two of you had grown closer since the party three weeks prior. It seemed he really had just wanted to dance that night and, even though the chemistry you’d hoped might lead to something more only led to a vibrant friendship, it was enough to keep you away from Jungkook. Seeing him in class was hard enough, but now you had a perfect excuse to avoid spending any more time with him than was strictly necessary. You still wanted to see him and do fun things together, but…just not alone anymore.

He’d asked you just an hour before if you wanted to take a walk by the river, to which you’d shaken your head with a wink, not even bothering to mention Hoseok’s name. You had to admit that you got some sick satisfaction in the way Jungkook’s nostrils would flare every time you blew him off to spend time with Hoseok. It was sadistic, but at least he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Jesus Christ, you weren’t listening. Again,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You gaped. “I so was! Essay. On…uh…the history of…”

“The history of interpretive dance,” Hoseok supplied, taking a sip of his bubble tea. “I used to think you were hot before I got to know you. You’re literally the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

You smacked his thigh and met his eyes with a glare. “Then why do you hang out with me?”

He thought a moment. “I mean…your roommate is kinda cute so that’s incentive-,”

You cut him off with another loud smack to his thigh. “Don’t perv on my roommate! Have you no decency?” you asked.

He laughed and rubbed the skin where you’d made contact, now growing red. “Hey, that reminds me. Are you guys free this weekend?” he asked.

You raised your brows and examined a cuticle, resting your free hand in the dewy grass. “Dunno. I’ll have to ask Jimin. Why?”

He smiled. “Well, there’s the fair going on in the city. I figured we could all go together.”

“If you’re only inviting me so you can flirt with Jimin then I’m not gonna ask him to go,” you said, eyeing him.

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not that desperate,” he said, then laughed. “Besides, I already have his number.”

You sighed as he stuck his tongue out at you once more. “You’re such a kid,” you commented, before laughing with him. “I’ll see if he’s free.”

“Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name and saw jogging towards you with a football in his hand was Jungkook. You sighed and glanced towards Hoseok who, cleverly, seemed to understand the situation wordlessly. He scooted an inch closer to you, resting his hand beside your thigh.

You waved at Jungkook and he smiled at you before glancing to the side to see who was seated beside you. His smile faltered before falling entirely and he met your eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

You gestured broadly with your hands. “Welcome to the plans,” you said with a laugh. “Wanna sit?” You patted the space on Hoseok’s checkered blanket left empty at your side.

He glanced over his shoulder at the boys awaiting his return, and then back towards you. You only offered because you knew what he’d choose. He was competitive and a little immature. He’d always prioritized you just slightly below his newer friends, even if he didn’t know it himself. If you asked him to hang out at your apartment and watch Ghibli movies on the same night his pals from whatever sports team he’d joined asked him to do who-knows-what, he’d always pick the latter without fail. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, that college was the time to make new connections and find people with whom you shared common interests. You knew he still cared for you. But you also knew that to him…you’d always been constant. So constant in fact that he’d gotten by not making much effort with you because of sheer loyalty — and unrequited, desperate love — alone. This time would be no different, you assumed. You two had been friends so long, perhaps he felt like he didn’t need to do anything to keep you around. You, after all, were someone he never feared losing…

He sighed and gave the football a strong throw, muscles contracting and releasing, before turning his gaze to you with a smile. “Sure,” he said, plopping down beside you.

Your cheeks flamed and your stomach fluttered. This was new indeed. “Um,” you said, unprepared for his reaction. You’d assumed he’d leave like usual…

“What are you two up to?” he asked, giving Hoseok a smile too.

Hoseok stretched his arms above his head and shrugged as they fell to the earth. “Just teasing dear Y/N for being such a shitty listener,” he said, poking your side.

You swatted his hand away and laughed. “I’m not!” you insisted. “You’re just boring.”

Hoseok gaped and a gasp escaped his lips. “How dare!”

Jungkook chuckled. “Y/N is just like that,” he said, glancing at you from above as he leaned back on his palms. “The kind of person who you tell something to, like, a million times and they still forget it.”

“That’s rude!” you called, wagging your finger in his face.

Hoseok laughed. “Ahh,” he exclaimed, grabbing your cheeks and giving them a big squeeze, stretching your face. “Our Y/N is so unreliable.”

You struggled against him, but laughed nonetheless. “Shut up! More reliable than you. How many times did you show up late to our group meetings? Huh? How many?” you asked, taking his cheeks in your hands and stretching as well.

The two of you were locked in this standoff for a moment before Hoseok laughed and broke away first. “Stupid.”

“I hope you stub your toe later,” you said, rolling your eyes and glancing towards Jungkook who was scanning you carefully, brows slightly lowered. “You okay, Kookie?” you asked. He said nothing. “Hello?” you called, waving a hand in front of his face.

He smirked and grabbed your hand in his. “Gotcha,” he said with a laugh.

But as his hand clasped around yours, your heart began to pound audibly in your ears and you blinked rapidly with panic before tearing your hand away and placing it carefully in your lap. You looked away from him, pushing your hair out of your face and clearing your throat.

“Both of you, stop messing with me,” you said, but your voice was quiet, timid, lacking the strength it normally had.

And, when you turned your gaze cautiously upward towards Jungkook, you found his almond-shaped eyes cast far away, a distant, pensive look on his face. You wondered if you’d ever really seen that expression. After years thinking you knew everything about him…

“Hoseok, so help me if you make me go on one more roller coaster-,” began Jimin as he held tightly onto your arm, swaying from the queasiness.

Hoseok laughed and hooked an elbow around your neck, taking up your other side. “You know you had fun,” he teased.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Fun would be eating an entire funnel cake on my own,” he said, then sighed.

The three of you cruised through the crowd which pulsed on either side of you, the sun setting into navy dusk overhead. Mostly families and groups of high school kids, the fair patrons caused a racket all around the grounds. You and Jimin had unintentionally fallen into Hoseok’s pace as the evening had worn on, following him around on the scariest rides, watching him lose at all the fair games until one of you had to step in to keep him from spending all his money, helping him calm down when he jumped out of his skin at one of the fair mascots who’d approached him too suddenly. And you’d laughed. You’d had a wonderful time, really.

Really.

But…something was missing. As you glanced around the walkway rimmed on both edges by booth games and pop-up shops illuminated by yellow light, you couldn’t help but think there was someone you knew who would love it the most. Between the adrenaline-pumping rides shooting you into the sky before plummeting you to the earth, the pretty paper lanterns hanging on strings above your heads, the snacks that were more grease than food, and the challenging games with massive plush prizes, you knew how much Jungkook would have enjoyed it. Your best friend was missing. Normally, you’d have come here with him. You’d have wandered around aimlessly, arms brushing now and again, sharing cotton candy. Perhaps one of the booth workers would have confused you two for a couple and teased Jungkook. Perhaps he would have laughed and, like always, gently corrected the misunderstanding.

But you’d ruined it all. You had neither a boyfriend or a best friend. You’d gambled and lost both. And now you had to stand and watch couples so sickeningly in love that it made you want to cry. Locked fingers, warm gazes, soft voices, and warm embraces. You’d longed for it for so long, seeing things like that while walking with Jungkook, thinking that a secret one-sided love was the most painful of all.

But you were wrong.

Unrequited love wasn’t the problem. It was love that, despite being known to both parties, remained unrequited.

You smiled sadly at your hands as Hoseok adjusted his lazy hold on your shoulders and Jimin staggered to the side, holding onto the side of a wooden ring-toss booth as he regained his balance. You exhaled slowly, watching the trampled grass below your feet.

“You’re sighing a lot,” said Hoseok with a hum, leaning towards your ear to blow in it, sending a ticklish chill down your spine.

You gasped and, through laughter, gave him a shove. “Jesus! Don’t do that,” you said, shaking your head.

Hoseok laughed with you until something behind your head caught his attention. For a moment, he stared at whatever had seized him. Then he glanced down at you and, offering a bright smile, placed both his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He squeezed the sides of your face, causing your flesh to bunch up.

“Don’t be so sad,” he said. “I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

You struggled to open your mouth with your cheeks pressed so firmly, but when you could the first thing you did was sigh. “Hoseok, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gave you a wink and shook your face a little. “Your roommate told me. About your crush. Although I could’ve guessed myself.”

You gaped and shook Hoseok’s hands off your face. You turned to Jimin who, still struggling beside you, glanced your way with round, innocent eyes. You gave his arm a firm smack and he whined. But you gave him another shove, crossing your arms once you’d finished.

“What?!” he yelled. “Did I do something wrong? Everyone knows anyway!”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, turning on your heel to resume your conversation with Hoseok. But halfway through your movement, something caught your eye down the alley of booths. You realized then what Hoseok had seen over your shoulder. Just a few paces away, dark hair quaffed out of his face and eyes glittering in the soft yellow light, stood Jungkook. And he was wearing that goddamn white shirt again.

You furrowed your brow at him as a few guys approached from his sides and grabbed his attention. Along with…a very pretty girl. Long dark hair, dressed prettily in a nice blouse that complimented her skin tone, pristine makeup, eyes set solely on Jungkook’s horribly handsome face.

You stiffened and raised one weak hand to wave at him. He returned the gesture, but it was almost forced. You set your lips and watched the pretty girl grab onto his arm, holding it close to her chest. Jungkook, startled by the sudden contact, jumped slightly and looked down at her with wide eyes. Gently, she pointed a pretty finger towards the game in front of her, throwing in a bright, charming smile for good measure. Jungkook followed where she’d pointed and raised his brows. You couldn’t hear, but the two began talking.

Your heart ached and you turned away, back towards Hoseok. “I think your feeling was wrong. Maybe a career in fortune telling isn’t for you,” you said with a laugh that you thought might become a cry.

He met your eyes with a sad smile and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Hey, don’t mind it, alright?” he said.

You grinned. “My specialty, unfortunately,” you said, patting his hand. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel.”

The two of you stood in line side-by-side, approaching the front as the night sky darkened measure by measure. Jimin had become rather motion sick and decided to sit this particular adventure, and any subsequent moving machines, out on the sidelines. You could no longer see him sitting on a bench by himself, drinking ginger ale with a straw, under-eyes dark with shades of blue and purple.

You sighed and played with your hands. You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Jungkook’s arm, arrested in that beautiful girl’s grip. His expression when she’d pointed to the booth. Maybe he’d won her a nice prize. Maybe this was a sort of first date. Jungkook was pretty shy when it came to dating, so his friends could have been there to keep things from getting awkward-

“Y/N,” said Hoseok, poking your forehead between your eyebrows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep this up.”

You met his eyes and blinked. “Huh? Sorry, I was-,”

“You were thinking about it,” he said, then frowned at you. “I told you not to do that.”

You laughed and nodded. “Sorry.”

“Listen, if that Jung-kid or whatever doesn’t see that you’re a great person, then he doesn’t deserve to date you,” he said, nodding resolutely.

“I tell myself that,” you said. “But…I dunno, after so many years you kinda have to think it’s not a him problem, but a me problem.”

Hoseok sighed. “Being negative doesn’t suit you,” he said. “Jimin said you’re stupidly optimistic.”

You scoffed. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s him,” you said, then peeked up at Hoseok with a smirk. “But, come to think of it…you two have been talking a lot lately.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “You’re right about one thing,” he said. “He is stupid.” He grabbed your arm and hooked it through his own, patting the top of your hand. “I wanted to spend some time with him tonight, but he’s such a wimp, getting sick after just a few rides.”

You laughed. “He’s like that,” you said. “If you wanna date him, you’re gonna have to get used to caring for a child.”

The line moved forward, leaving you and Hoseok at the front. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. “Hoseok…boys are dumb,” you said quietly.

He laughed and nodded his head, watching the top of the ferris wheel as it pierced the sky. “Sure are.”

“Next!” called the worker, waving you forward with his hand, not even bothering to look at you as the two of you approached the ferris wheel.

Hoseok smiled and held your hand as you stepped inside the big wobbly box first. “Careful,” he said as you stumbled slightly before settling into your seat.

You patted the space beside you as he lifted a foot to step inside himself, but as his toe touched the metal bottom, he reared back as if pulled by the shoulders from behind and, in his place, a familiar face came into view in your cage-like box. Your eyes grew wide as Jungkook settled on the bench beside you, swinging the door shut behind him as the ride began moving. You gasped and looked over the open sides as Hoseok’s stunned form grew smaller, your hands gripping the edge as your mouth fell slack.

“I…I need to talk to you,” said Jungkook in a small voice.

You turned to him gaping. “You have my number!” you shouted. “Jesus, you could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“At your age?” he asked with a smile. You didn’t return it, still fuming with crossed arms, and he quickly righted himself with a cough into the crook of his elbow. “Um…I…”

“You what?”

He sighed. “Well, aren’t you supposed to like me or something?” he asked, looking at you with furrowed brows.

Your back went stiff and you scoffed. “W-What? So? Am I not allowed to hang out with Hoseok then?”

“Not when you like someone else!”

“Who are you that you think I’ll just…like you forever?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. “Besides, you looked pretty cozy with that girl.”

“That…girl?” he asked, glancing away as he thought. “God, Sana? Do you mean Sana?”

You shrugged. “How would I know?”

He scoffed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Jealous?”

“Of course I am, you idiot!” you shouted, shaking your head as you looked to the side. You were halfway to the top and it felt like an eternity already. “You said it yourself. I like you.”

He blinked at you quietly for a moment, the stars overhead reflecting in his perfectly dark eyes. “S-Still?”

“Are you dumb?” you asked. “I’ve liked you for years, is that just gonna disappear in a few weeks?”

“Then…Hoseok?” he asked.

You glanced at him before huffing and shrugging your shoulders. “Just a friend,” you said, then sighed. “He’s got a thing for Jimin anyway.”

Jungkook sat quietly for a moment, then nodded his head. “Huh.”

“Well what about that Sana girl then? Why was she holding onto you like that?” you asked, and without meaning to a pout found your lips.

He shook his head. “Don’t you remember her from when we were younger? My cousin? She lives in Busan?”

You sat upright and stared at him with wide eyes. “C-Cousin?”

He sighed. “Yeah. She’s visiting so I took her out with some friends.”

“Oh…,” you said. The two of you sat in an awkward, endless silence.

The sky was darker, with only a small orb of sunlight left in the west. The late summer winds tossed Jungkook’s hair around delicately, brushing it off his forehead as he stared at the setting sun. There was an air of shyness you weren’t used to, as if both of you had unwittingly revealed your trump cards to one another and were left to sit in the quiet aftermath. You peeked at him and sighed as you looked at his shirt, clinging to his biceps as he sat with his arms crossed.

You reached out and tugged at it, frustration seeping into you. “Why do you keep wearing this? Are you doing it on purpose?” you asked, your voice raising. “It’s like…ugh, it’s like you know exactly what to do to shake me up but you don’t even know you’re doing it! Do you know how frustrating it’s been? Liking you so much for so long? Having to sit with you and pretend I didn’t? Watching you chase after other people? Going home with you and listening to your parents praise me while you space off? Looking at you wearing white shirt after white shirt after white shirt when I told you I like how you look in them?!” You felt tears rising in your eyes and your throat became tight. You shook your head. “Have you ever even considered me? Even once?”

He stared down at you, at your hand knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt, and then back at your eyes. You sniffled and glanced away, but as you reached the top, the ferris wheel jerked slightly, sending you falling forward. If you hadn’t caught yourself, you’d have face-planted his lap. But as you glanced up, captured between his thighs, sitting on your knees, you almost wished you would have. His eyes were burning and bright, staring at you from above with parted lips. Gently, he pressed a cool hand against your warm cheek and smoothed his fingers over your skin. Your heart began to race, but you begged it to stop. You’d been down this road before. But the way he touched you felt so tender, so gentle.

He blinked at you slowly and you, eyes level with his chest, let a few stray tears fall onto the tops of his knees. “I didn’t,” he said.

Your brows raised. “Huh?”

“I didn’t consider you,” he said, then shook his head. “But now I feel like you’re all I consider.”

You felt flush, your head going fuzzy, as you watched his expression soften. “You…what?”

“I don’t know either,” he said with a quiet laugh, more of an exhale. “Why do I want to shake you up? Why do I get so mad when I see you with other guys? Why do I want to take your hand and keep you to myself?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “Don’t say that,” you said.

He took your chin in his fingers and guided your eyes back to his. “Why do I get nervous around you? Why do I think about kissing you so much?”

“Please don’t say it unless you mean it,” you said, voice a begging, desperate whisper. “I told you to forget I said anything-,”

“What if I don’t want to forget it?”

Your eyes went wide and you traced the fine lines of his chest and neck to his face. “What?”

He nodded and tilted his head down slightly. Unconsciously, you pushed yourself up on your legs as his face loomed nearer. His nose brushed yours before he shut his eyes and you, still shocked, simply gazed at him. You’d never imagined seeing him so close. Every small detail, every tiny freckle, every smooth expanse of skin on his face…you could see it all. You felt his lips brush against yours and your eyes snapped shut. Anticipation had your hands shaking as they sat pressed palms-down on the bench between his legs.

Softly, he pressed his lips against yours. It was almost uncertain, timid. His hand on your chin moved slowly to the back of your neck as he gained momentum, holding you in place. Smoothly, he tilted his head to the other side. White-hot butterflies flew through your stomach with every subtle movement, and as his lips parted against yours you brought your arms up to hook behind his neck. His free hand slid against your side and fell to your lower back where it sat, gentle, undemanding. Slowly he pulled away but before you could even open your eyes, his lips were upon you again, pressed firmly now against yours as he deepened the kiss. His kiss was hotter now, needier. His hand fell from behind your neck to join his other hand on your back, both of them smoothing over your sides as if he was desperate to touch you. You were just as frenzied, hands moving against the warm skin of his neck, sliding across his chest.

You felt him exhale against you, a breathy hum, as he broke away and trailed slow kisses against your cheek to your jawline. He pressed pecks against your skin before reaching the space between your jaw and your ear. The breath from his nose caused your body to wiggle and you couldn’t help the jittery laugh the escaped you. He pulled away and stared down at you with wide eyes, as if he’d surprised even himself.

“I-,” you began.

But he only looked at you for a moment before placing both his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in for another sweet, delicate kiss. You gasped as he pressed his lips against yours once more before pulling away to look at you properly, his fingers rubbing against your cheeks as a bright smile fought its way onto his face.

“You’re so red,” he said, laughing slightly.

You swatted his hands away and crawled up to sit beside him. “You surprised me.”

He smiled at his lap and laughed. “I’m sorry. Did you not like it?” he asked.

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders. “I…liked it.”

Silently, he slid his hand onto the top of your knee and grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your heart pounded. You’d never even allowed yourself to dream of something like this happening for real. It was too painful to imagine it knowing it would never become reality. But you could feel his hand in yours, hear him breathing so close beside you, feel the traces of heat his lips had left behind.

“I’m sorry for pretending nothing happened,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting so weird lately.”

He laughed. “You have an excuse at least,” he said, then sighed. “I was just…stunned. For a while, really. I guess I never really considered that you’d have feelings for me. It wasn’t really on my radar.”

“I’m a good actor then,” you said with a laugh.

He joined you and squeezed your hand. “You were,” he said. “I never would’ve guessed. But I think…deep down I always kind of had a thing for you. Whenever someone would confess to you I’d always get kinda mad, you know? Even though you turned them down.”

“You’d always complain about it when I’d tell you. You said that guys are scary and I shouldn’t trust them,” you said, rolling your eyes. “The way I see it, you’re the scariest of all of them.”

He bumped your shoulder as the ferris wheel began descending again. “I never thought about it. About what it meant,” he said with a sigh. “I let you go through it all on your own when I could have been there for you.”

“You couldn’t have,” you said, laughing. “Trust me, I would have been mortified if you knew any sooner.”

He shrugged. “I guess you confessing was the shock I needed to finally think about it seriously. Think about…you seriously.”

You flushed and glanced at your interlocked hands sitting atop your knee. This was real. The fresh air, the sky, the distant sounds of the fair: all of it was evidence that this moment was reality. You smiled. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”

He shoved you slightly with a laugh. “Me too,” he began, then furrowed his brow and pouted at you. “But I’m kind of mad,” he said.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, outlined by the lightening moon. “Why?”

“We could have been doing that for years,” he said, sighing. “It feels like a waste.”

You rolled your eyes and placed a peck quickly against his cheek. He turned to you with a bright smile and shocked gaze, laughing. “We’ll just make up for it then.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your cheek before slowly making his way to your lips, using his free hand to hold your face softly. The kiss was slow, unhurried and without urgency. You two had all the time in the world, after all. He inhaled as he pulled away and grinned at you, face still close to yours, before pulling back and kissing the side of your head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned against him.

“Jimin’s gonna freak out,” you said quietly into the night air.

Jungkook laughed and nodded. “Now my mom can finally stop nagging me about asking you out.”

You peered at him from below. “You still haven’t, you know,” you began, then smiled. “Asked me out, I mean.”

He scoffed. “Then do I just kiss anyone?” he asked.

You shrugged and pursed your lips. “How would I know?”

He shook your shoulders and laughed. “Will you date me then?”

You tilted your head to the side. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Hey!”

“Check my schedule.”

“Stop it!”

“I have many suitors you know.”

“Y/N!” he yelled, staring down at you with wide eyes.

You laughed and nodded. “Of course I’ll date you, you big dork,” you said, beaming at the boy, the unrequited love that had been requited all along.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts imagines #bangtan #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts one shot #bts reader insert

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 4: The Universe; Behind the Scenes

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of Past Death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC Additional Tags: Thanos Is A Tool, Influence is Not the Same as Control, God I Want That Bathtub Summary: Reader learns what she remembers, but not why.

“What the hel was that?” Loki demanded. “She was fine one minute, and then she falls apart over a mere face full of dust? Who does that?”

“I can think of a reason.” Thor said softly.

“Brother?” Thor was rarely introspective, and Loki didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“She’s had a hard day. She will need rest, but I have some questions first. “

“I’m sure we all have.” Loki grouched. “Seems like that’s all we have.”

*****

The bath was nice, though the toiletries all smelled of him. You were surprised by how much mud had gotten in your hair. You weren’t made for such bizarre happenings: magic, and kidnapping gods, and ancient civilizations being built anew. Nothing about today seemed quite real. Even time was wrong. A few hours ago you were clocking in for the morning shift at work. Now the sun hung low in the sky. Evening was coming. You’d lost an entire day. You supposed that made its own kind of sense, since technically, aliens were involved.

Where were you now? This couldn’t be your country. Yes, the U.S. was pretty big, big enough to cover several time zones, but you didn’t think there was any part of the continental United States that was night while another part was morning. You had to be all the way across an ocean, or somewhere similarly as far. What a pity. You would have liked to see that. Flying over an ocean must be beautiful.

The towels were nice, much nicer than you were used to. Everything was probably going to be higher quality than you were used to, since royalty was involved.

How were you supposed to talk to them? There was no real royalty in your country; you didn’t know the etiquette. How did one address a prince? A king? A god?

Someone had taken your clothes while you bathed. Of course you couldn’t put them back on while they were still so filthy, but it made you feel vulnerable all the same. The tunic you had been provided in their place did not fit correctly at all; it was too loose in the shoulder, too long in the arms, and too tight in the hips. This was obviously a man’s garment, olive green and incredibly soft. You didn’t want to think about it. At least the provided slippers fit correctly. Your legs remained mostly bare, but you didn’t think they were all that much to look at anyway. The tunic was made for someone taller than you, so it covered enough.

This little set of rooms was odd to you. Like a whole house inside of another building. Here a bath, there a library, there and there a bedroom. And when you tried to leave back out into what you thought was the main corridor, there was a young man in armor there to stop you. He was polite, but he spoke a language you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry.” You told him. “I don’t understand.” He led you back into the library and pointed at a chair. “Oh, I get it. Sit down and wait, huh? I can do that.”

He waited until you had gotten yourself seated before going back to his post. He must have had orders not to let you leave. Annoying, but fair; they wouldn’t want you running off, and after that small panic attack earlier, it might not be safe for you to wander around without a guide.

You started browsing through the books, but most of them were in unfamiliar languages. When Loki came to collect you, you were going through illustrations and diagrams that you couldn’t read, but found interesting nevertheless. You looked up from a beautiful drawing of a huge tree with little worlds hanging it its branches, and he was just there.

“Uh…How long-“ You began.

“You make so many little noises when you read. Do you fear silence, or are you simply that lacking in self-awareness?”

“It’s just a habit.” You said defensively. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“You live completely alone. Who is there to complain? You will have to break that habit while you are within these walls. We cannot have incessant noise disturbing our guards, or my contemplations.”

You turned back to the illustrations, cheeks burning slightly. So it was just a little habit! It wasn’t that big a deal.

“You say it like we’ve gotta be joined at the hip all the time, but that’s obviously not the case, because I just had a nice bath without you. So unless you were waiting just outside the door-which would be creepy-then I’m sure my ‘incessant noises’ won’t be as big a problem as you’re making them out to be. “

You both let the moments pass in increasingly uncomfortable silence.

“I was harsh with you.” It was a statement, not an apology, but also probably the closest you were ever going to get.

“You were. I was…rude.” You conceded. You really must have crossed a line when you called him a monster. You had let your temper and fear run off with you.

“You were.” He agreed. “You were frightened. It’s only natural. And I was…frustrated. But that time is passed, and now the time has come for greater things.” He beckoned for you to follow him, and you did, curiosity growing.

Where could you possibly be going now? Some kind of magical laboratory, to run tests on your rune? A spiritual center, to meditate on this magical connection that sapped or restored energy based on how close the two of you were? A medical area, where they might operate on your hand to learn more about it?

“Where are we going?” You asked softly.

“Dinner.” He said airily, and you snorted. Greater things, huh? Still, something as mundane as dinner sounded amazing right now. You’d technically gone the whole day without eating. Something mundane sounded very nice right about now. You might not get that again for some time.

He looked oddly normal as well, which struck you as strange. It somehow never occurred to you that he didn’t look the same all the time. But all you’d ever had for reference was video footage of the battle. He wore armor to intimidate, horns to add height. Not that he needed it. The top of your head barely reached his shoulders. You would have never expected someone like him to even have casual clothes, if all those pin-tucks and diagonal shapes counted as casual. You tried to ignore the similar shapes on the ill fitted tunic you currently wore.

It was hard to believe how much different he looked without that helmet. How much the sharpness of his face was softened by letting his hair fall lose around his shoulders.

“Like something you see?” He asked. “You’re staring, you know.”

“Sorry.” You said, embarrassment creeping in. “It’s just that you look…”

He turned to watch you, the corners of his mouth lifting, ever so slightly. “Yes?”

“You look like a man.”

He paused, the tiny smile fleeing. “As opposed to a monster?” Then he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up.

“That’s not what I-“

“Oh don’t worry.” He cut you off. “After all, I’ve never shown this world anything different.”

“Lo-“ You started, then held your tongue. No, you couldn’t call him by name. You weren’t friends. Whatever reasons he might have had, he was the architect of a major disruption in your life. There was no way you had a job anymore, and if you ever got home, you probably wouldn’t have your apartment either. Your houseplants were going to die. Your friends and father, and coworkers had no idea you were still alive. And all of this was quite literally by his hand.

How were you supposed to address him?

“Your…Highness?” You tried, and he made an affirming noise. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Yes.” He said, and nothing else. It took you a moment to realize he was doing that obnoxious thing some teachers do in order to amend their students’ grammar. How annoying.

“Please tell me where we are, your highness.” You said in a voice pitched higher than normal. Years of working in retail with difficult customers gave your demeanor a false show of being chipper. He noticed instantly, giving you a strange look.

“Within the kingdom of Asgard, but you would know this island as Iceland.”

“Iceland? How did-how am I-I…I’ve never been to Iceland.” You spluttered lamely. You had never been so far from home in your life. You’d never really wanted to. You were well and truly trapped, weren’t you? If you found that you really needed to leave, there really was nowhere for you to run. Even if you could make it out of the unbuilt city, you didn’t know where any other towns were. You wouldn’t be able to speak to any people you might find. They would know you shouldn’t be there, see that you had no passport, no identification. They’d haul you right to jail. That was all that awaited you outside the city. Death in a foreign landscape, or prison.

“Oh god, I’m an illegal immigrant.” You murmured.

“What are you talking about?” He led you into a large room with a huge table in the center, and then right past that table, and into a much smaller room, with a much smaller table, set with three dinners, and furnished with the king of Asgard.

“Yes.” He asked. “What are we talking about?”

“I don’t have a passport! I’m illegal, I’ll be put in jail!

Thor shrugged. “You’re a guest of the Crown, at least for a little while. You don’t have to worry about it. Sit with us; eat. Ease your worries. We’re going to take care of you.”

You took a seat opposite Thor; Loki sat next to you, not, as you expected, next to his brother. It almost felt like they were fencing you in, putting themselves between you and the door. Or between you and anyone who might come through the door.

The food was simple, and looked good, if a little unfamiliar. A bowl of hearty stew, full of vegetables and tasting of herbs your tongue had never met. A little pot of creamy white stuff, topped with orange sauce that turned out to be sweet instead of spicy. A chunk of something that was trying to be bread but was actually dried fish that you were supposed to spread butter on as if it was bread. And a glass of strong cider that you had trouble actually drinking. Alcohol was usually too pricy for you, and so you never drank much.

It was warm, and it was good, and it was what your body, confused by time zones, desperately needed. You ate every bit, even the buttered fish. But you said nothing, not until Thor addressed you directly.

“I know you have had a very rough day, and I know you must be tired and confused, but would you be willing to entertain a few questions?”

What choice did you have? He was right about being tired; the hot food and cider had hit you pretty hard. But it wasn’t like you could just tell him to go stuff it either, could you? You put your customer service face back on.

“Sure, ask away!”

He raised one eyebrow at the fake cheer in your voice, but made no comment on it.

“I’d like to assure you that we keep this place very clean. No dust, unless you go near construction zones. But, if it’s not too uncomfortable, could you tell us why you reacted like that? So we can keep you safer in the future.”

Damn. You should’ve known they wouldn’t let that go. Six months ago, you had been sure he would have an answer for you; now you just didn’t know. Would he think you were crazy too? But he was a god; was it possible to lie to a god?

“I’ll know if you’re lying.” Loki said, as if hearing your thoughts.

“There’s no need for threats.” Thor chided him.

“I wasn’t.”

“If you are comfortable talking about it.” Thor concluded.

“It’s difficult.” You said. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I kinda do, and I have for a long time. But it seems like some great big secret that I can’t bring up, because most people don’t believe me, and the ones that do are sort of paranoid of being thought crazy. Look, something happened about a year and a half ago, except it didn’t, but it did. And I know you probably won’t believe me, but-“

“Half your world turned to dust.” Thor said grimly. “People, plants, animals, everything. And then it all went back to normal, as if nothing happened. But not for you. In the time between the two events, you suffered. You mourned. You struggled and starved. And now you remember, when it seems no one else does.”

Loki stared at you. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

You had gone very still and very pale as Thor spoke out that list of everything you had gone through.

“I knew it.” You whispered. “I knew it. I knew it was real. That many people couldn’t have the same hallucination. I knew you knew something!”

Thor nodded, still looking very serious.

“That’s why I went to the tower in the first place! That’s why I tried to approach you! I knew one of you knew something!”

“But the spell-“ Loki began.

“What happened?” You demanded, excitement overcoming your sleepiness.

“It’s a lengthy tale, if you’re up for it.” Thor warned, but you only nodded in enthusiasm.

“Very well. It begins when the universe does.” Wow, he wasn’t kidding.

“Thor, are you sure this is a good idea?” Loki broke in.

Thor shrugged. “Looks like something went wrong. She’s not supposed to remember, but she does.”

“That spell was cast for a reason.” Loki protested.

“Which do you suppose was worse? Being one of the lives initially lost, or being one of those left behind to live in that broken universe? Do you know what that was like? Being the only one left? I say she deserves an answer. “

Loki rolled his eyes. “No, if you recall, I was dead at the time. Whatever, tell her what you will, but I’ll not be taking responsibility when it blows up in your face.”

“Wait, you…you died? Did you turn to dust too?” That even happened to the gods?

“Not exactly,” He muttered. “It was more of a hand’s on experience.”

“He was very brave.” Thor said.

“I was very foolish.” Loki retorted, but he looked more proud than angry.

“What happened?” You asked again.

“Yes, the story. Directly after this universe came into being, there also spawned a handful of concepts; embodiments of the things that make up the universe and everything in it. These things were given physical forms, shaped into shining gems of incredible power. Wars were fought over them, and with them, but only certain powerful individuals can actually use them. I have a friend who has seen what happens when someone who is too weak tries to handle one. Not pretty, apparently. However, Loki has used two of them before.”

Pride colored those last words, and Loki looked unsure of how to take being bragged about.

“For certain definitions of ‘used’, I suppose.”

“There was someone else who wanted them, a homicidal lunatic, name of Thanos. An absolute waste of space who brought nothing to the universe but mountains of corpses. Twisted. Worthless. Seems like all he could do was destroy. The Chitauri invasion? That was him.”

“That was him.” You pointed at Loki.

“Certain definitions of used.” He repeated.

You looked back and forth between the brothers. “What are you trying to tell me here?”

“He used the Mind Stone.” Thor said. “While at the same time, it used him. It affected everyone around it.”

“Wait, you mean mind control?” You asked, shocked by this revelation. “These things have their own will? Why haven’t you told anyone? Everyone thinks-“

“Do not mistake me.” Loki interrupted. “No matter how much my brother would like to paint me as an innocent in this, I still did what I did. Those were my actions and my decisions. One can very easily be a victim, and be guilty at the same time. Take it as a demonstration of what I am capable of, just not everything that I am.” He sighed, but his expression remained neutral.

“It is however, correct to think that, without Thanos, without the influence of that stone, I don’t think I would have done any of it. But I did, and there is no way to erase that. Do not make of me something I am not. I was the person who did all those things. But I am not now, and will not be again.”

“I don’t know what to think about this.” You said, but internally you were a bit relieved. You hadn’t actually stopped being frightened of him, but it was very reassuring to know that all that malice, all that bigotry and hatred hadn’t all been him. If his words could be trusted, anyway. Thor wasn’t objecting though, so maybe he really was on the level.

“He did take his stand against Thanos though.” Thor continued. “We all did; heroes of Earth, of Asgard, of the stars. And every last one of us failed. Most of us died, either in his quest for the stones, or in the event he caused. He came into possession of all of the stones, which allowed him to reshape the universe as he wanted it to be. “

“Which was…nearly empty?”

“He was a madman. He was obsessed with his savior complex, but his bloodlust was far greater, and I think he forgot how to separate the two. So yes, instead of thinking up ways to change reality for the better, he felt the logical choice was to kill everybody.”

“He had no creativity or finesse, unless he was causing harm.” Loki muttered.

“Now this is the part I really can’t tell you about, which is a shame, because it was amazing. However, because of the forces involved, the fewer people who ever know about it, the better. But we few survivors took our battle to reality itself, and we succeeded. We regained what Thanos took from us, and erased his nightmarish vision of the universe.”

“Before separating the stones and returning them to their proper guardians, the sorcerers among us used them to cast a spell over everything and everyone; that none save those of us involved should have any memory of the event we erased. We wanted to undo that suffering, but we also wanted to prevent mass searches for the stones. We can’t risk it happening again.”

“Then how come I remember?” You asked. There was much more mystery surrounding you right now than you were comfortable with.

“That is an excellent question!” Thor said. “And since you don’t seem to have any answers for us yourself, we will simply have to add it to the pile of things we have to figure out.”

“I would like to have answers too, but right now, I’m so tired.” An involuntary yawn punctuated your words. “Pardon me.”

“Yes, of course.” Thor said. “Loki will take you to bed.”

“Absolutely not!” You screeched.

“Phrasing!” Loki snapped.

Thor looked like he was having a very hard time not laughing, which you didn’t appreciate at all. That was a terrifying prospect, and one you were not in the least willing to entertain. Loki looked perturbed as well, so at least you were both on the same page.

“I’m sorry, ____, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” A little laughter did escape him, fueling your annoyance. It wasn’t a laughing matter. Neither of these men had better start getting ideas. Just because they were divine rulers didn’t mean they could take liberties. You still had rights. Didn’t you?

“Buffoon.” Loki grumbled. “Come. I’ll see you to your room.”

You got to have your own room? That sounded promising. You followed along behind him, sleepy and quiet, swimming in the events of the day. It was all so much to take in, but maybe sleeping on it would help. Loki led you back to the set of rooms you’d earlier had your bath in, letting you inside and addressing the young man standing guard at the door. You couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the young man seemed mildly confused and upset. He kept shooting you curious looks, and eventually he patted you reassuringly on the shoulder, and nodded at you. Then he went into the smaller of the two bedrooms, gathered his things, and left. He even waved at you on his way out, as if he was trying to convey no hard feelings without being able to actually speak to you.

“Uh…Your Highness? Did I just kick that guy out of his room?” You asked, feeling very guilty.

“No.” Loki assured you. “These rooms are mine, and I decide who may use them, and for how long. There is room for him in our guardhouse, it was just more convenient for him to be close by. Now it is more convenient for you to be here.”

“Because we don’t know how far apart we can be, or for how long. I get it.” There wasn’t much in the room; a bed, a desk with a chair, a small dresser, and one window. The floor and walls were bare, and there was one lamp on the desk, but no other lights. Well, you didn’t need much right now, and you owned practically nothing here, not even the shirt on your back, so this was much better than you had feared it would be.

“I feel like we can probably have a respectable distance between us, just not miles, and certainly not an entire ocean. However, I also feel like we should sleep closer together. Partly for your own safety, and partly because it seems to me that the focus of this draining sickness was our mutual dreams. “

He took a seat in the chair while you crawled into the plain little bed.

“Will you tell me about them?” He asked. “I know we were both having dreams, and I think we were connected through them, but you said yours were nightmares. Mine were not. I wonder about the differences.”

“Ugh. They weren’t anything complicated, but they were always the same. There was this big blankness that I just wanted to sink into so that I could finally rest, but you wouldn’t let me. You just kept dragging me away, and you wouldn’t let me sleep. You were scary, and it was torture, not being able to rest.”

He nodded slowly, writing something down in a small notebook you were sure he hadn’t had just a second before.

“Mine were…similar, but the perspective was different. That void was death, and I was compelled to keep you from it.”

“Do you think we’ll still dream?” You asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Right. Can you, uh…”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He left, closing the door behind him. You might have heard the lock turn, but you were already drifting off.

*********

The void beckoned you, a promise of rest and freedom, but now you knew it might not be as benign as it seemed. Loki clutched your arm, frightening with his horns and cold eyes, but now you knew he might not be as malign as he seemed. You spent the rest of your dream there, between two deceivers, not sure which one to choose.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#avengers #marvel fanfiction

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hannahindie · 6 years

Text

Breathe - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,200 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: Six months ago, Y/N runs into someone unexpected at the local bar while researching a case. For one night, she decides to forget and just try to be normal. Present day, Dean wants answers and Y/N isn’t sure how to explain herself. A/N: This is the fourth part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card series, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

It was beta’d by the ever fantastic and my writing soulmate @trexrambling: “ Don't we all. -happy sigh-”

My beautiful twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “oof...this would give me feelings to hear from the lips of Dean Winchester”

And my dear, sweet angel baby @masksandtruths: “Ughhhh. Yep I want to go cry in a corner now.”

Thanks to all three for helping a girl out so that her words make sense. I owe a lot to all of you.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

6 months earlier…

This bar is perfect. It's in the middle of nowhere, it's cheap, and so far not one person has tried to get my number or buy me a drink.

“Hey, sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?”

Never mind.

I take a deep breath then spin around to face the jackass that's ruining my perfect bar experience, “What makes you think-”

“Y/N?”

I should have recognized his voice, but I definitely recognize the green eyes sparkling in the dim light, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he realizes who he just tried to hit on.

“Dean?”

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” He looks like he’s trying to decide if he should do something, like give me a hug or a hearty pat on the arm, but ends up just jamming his hands into his pockets. I give him an awkward smile.

“Working a case, what about you?” I turn back to the bar and he slides onto the stool next to me.

“We just finished one, heard there might be something over this way so we figured we'd check it out before we went home.” He waves down the bartender and orders two more beers.

“I'm not even sure it is a case. Haven't been able to find much, I'm starting to think it's a thing for the locals to handle. I figure I'll do some more research in the morning, head out of it’s nothing.” I take a swig from my beer as he waves the bartender down. “We? Sam is here too?”

“Yea, he said he wanted to research and the bar would be too loud. The campus library is open late, so he's camping out there for the night.”

We fall silent, and I wish it didn't feel so awkward. There didn't used to be this...space. Now it feels like we are on two totally different tracks, speeding along next to each other but never actually crossing paths. Not even when we are sitting mere inches apart. I won't lie; the feeling sucks.

“It's been awhile. Why haven't you called?” I look over and he's fiddling with the label on his beer, pulling it off the bottle in tiny pieces like he's always done when he's nervous.

I shrug, “It’s been busy. Phones work two ways, you know.” I’ll just leave out the whole ‘cancer takes a lot of out of you’ part, and the bit where I shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with my pain medicine.

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat, “Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything...about Bobby, about what...what I said.” His voice is quiet, but the apology packs a punch. Dean isn’t usually one to apologize, at least not easily.

“You weren’t the only one that said shitty things, Dean. It’s not like I offered you a fresh glass of sweet tea and invited you to sit on the porch with me so we could talk about our feelings.”

He chuckles and I finish my beer, sliding it down the bar as I grab the one Dean just bought for me. “I guess that’s true.” He sighs, “What happened to us? We were...we were good, weren’t we? You, me, and Sammy...we were the best.”

I glance over and really look at him for the first time since he’s sat down. He looks tired, his face more haunted than it was the last time I saw him. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and, considering he’s a Winchester, that’s probably not too far from the truth. He’s still handsome though; age has been kind to him. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are more pronounced, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. I like it, other than it hides how strong his jawline is.

“You still are.”

He smiles sadly and shakes his head, “If you knew...I’m not the best, not anymore.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm and he looks up at me, “Life happened to us, Dean. And it’s not like one of the monsters that we can hunt down and destroy. Life sneaks up and picks and pulls you apart, and every once in awhile it gives you a little glimmer of hope, of what could be. If you’re lucky, the glimmer turns into something more, but for people like us...that’s all it is. A hope of what could be, not what’s going to happen. We save people, but we don’t save ourselves.”

I stare at my hand on his arm and remember what we used to be like; best friends, inseparable as soon as John put me in the backseat of the Impala. It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for Bobby’s death, but I had been angry and hurt. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one that lost their father that day, not until it was too late, anyway. “You are a good man who has given up everything so that others don’t have to. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to understand that before.”

Dean softly places his hand on top of mine and squeezes, “You’ve given up a lot, too.” He clears his throat and straightens up on the barstool, his hand moving from mine to his beer. “I think we need something a little stronger than beer. Still a whiskey girl?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” I respond with a smile, grateful that the familiar comfort I used to feel with Dean seems to have returned.

“D-do you remember that time we stole Bobby’s truck and went into town, I don’t even remember what we were lookin’ for, but we left and didn’t tell him?” I stumble slightly, and Dean catches my arm.

“How can you not remember what we were lookin’ for? You decided you wanted to go see Titanic, and you talked my stupid ass into it!”

I snort, “Pshtttt, you know you wanted to see some Kate Winslet boobies, don’t even pretend.”

“I had to pretend to be your brother so you could get in! Lemme just add that as much as I may have wanted to see Kate Winslet boobs, I by no means wanted to see them with you sitting next to me.”

“Listen, you loved that movie. I saw you cry.”

“Tha’s...tha’s bullshit. I don’t cry over chick flicks, ‘specially not when I’m with someone else in a public theater.” He gives his head an emphatic shake, as if that’s going to drive his point home.

“HA!” I stop and poke him in the chest, “You said ‘especially’, which means you’re not above doin’ it alone. Dean Winchester has feelings.”

“Oh, I had feelings, just wasn’t ‘bout the movie.”

“See! You have feelings, you just ad..mitt….wait, what?” My finger is still on his chest, and he smirks down at me.

“Y’heard me.” His eyes are sparkling, and the mischievous look he used to have when we were young is back. It makes him look like a kid again, and it’s enough to make me ignore how badly this could end. I forget that my decision has made this an impossibility, and I shift my hand so that it lays flat against his chest. He’s warm, God, he’s so warm and I can feel his heart beating against my palm.

“You had feelings?”

His hands land on my waist and he pulls me flush against him. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his proximity, but my face feels hot as I stare up at him. “I never said they stopped.”

“Oh,” I breathe out, his words fuzzy and sharp at the same time. “I...d’ya want...I mean, my hotel room is jus’-” I don’t get a chance to finish my question because his lips are on mine and it’s like my entire brain short circuits. I would be lying if I said I never wanted to find out what this felt like. I assume any woman that looks at Dean wonders what it would be like.

I can promise you, there are no words to describe how it feels.

I can try. I can tell you that his lips are soft, softer than I could have ever imagined. He smells like gun oil and leather, with a hint of whiskey from our time at the bar. It reminds me of home, of riding in the backs of cars and learning how to fight, and how to care for people. He’s warm, even through all his layers it's radiating from him like a heater, and I can’t help but let my hands roam across his chest and down to the small of his back.

He pulls back and laughs softly and I take a moment to catch my breath. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think this can continue in public.” He shifts, and I am made aware as to why we should probably vacate the busy sidewalk.

“Come on, I think I can remedy that.” I grab his hand and start walking down the street again.

“Where are we going?”

“My hotel room, duh.” He laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. For the first time in a long time, everything feels...normal.

I’m not dying. We aren’t fighting monsters and evil, and we aren’t saving the world. We’re drunk, and we’re letting ourselves feel what normal people get to feel. It might just be a beautiful lie that we’re telling ourselves for this one night, but I don’t care. Because for once...for once it can just be us, and I don’t have to remember that it’s going to be short lived.

We stop in front of my motel room and I drunkenly dig through my pocket, but it’s made difficult by Dean grabbing me by the waist and pressing me against the wall next to the door.

“Dean, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can’t…mmmm...I can’t get to my key.” His teeth graze my throat, right at my pulse, and I nearly melt. I can feel him smiling against me and I smack his arm. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” He pulls back and lets me finally pull the key free, watching in amusement as I fumble it into the lock. “Know what else I know?”

I look back at him as the door swings open, “What?”

“I’m damn lucky we decided to stop in Omaha.” He picks me up and carries me into the room, slamming the door shut behind us with his foot.

He isn't the only lucky one.

Now…

It's the beeping that gets me, the incessant dinging of machines, whirring sounds and footsteps, and the never ending barrage of announcements over the intercom system that finally pulls me out of what feels like a coma. Then the smell takes over; a suffocating cloud of cleaners and sanitizers that I only ever encounter in hospitals.

My eyes slowly open to see a blurry form sitting in the chair next to me, chin against his chest as he breathes slowly in and out, the cadence making it obvious he's asleep. Sunlight is creeping through the long, vertical blinds, and the television is turned to some daytime talk show rerun.

“Oh, you're awake!” I roll my head towards the door and see a smiling nurse walk through it and watch as she checks whatever machines I'm hooked to. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Sorry…” I don't know what else to say.

“Aww, honey, you don't need to be sorry. I'm just glad to see you're awake. I think he will be, too. He's refused to leave this entire time. Not even the threat of a security escort seemed to phase him.”

I look back over at Dean, who's shifted enough so that his head is tilted against the back of the chair, his mouth hanging open. “That sounds about right.” I struggle to sit up more, and she hurries over.

“Here, let me give you a hand. I'm going to call your doctor, she said she needs to have a little chat with you.” Her face falls slightly as she smooths out the blanket, then she clears her throat and suddenly the smile is back, “I'll be right back.”

“Wait…”

She turns to look at me, “Yes?”

“How long have I been out?”

Her smile disappears again and a crease appears between her brows, “Four days.” She disappears around the corner quickly as if she wants to avoid any other questions and I sigh. Four days.

I grab for the remote, but for a second it's like my hands forget how to do their job, like my brain isn't connected to them, so I juggle it for a second before it slips out of my hand and hits the floor with a crash. Dean jerks upright in his chair.

“What?! What the hell?” It takes a minute for his brain to register where he is and what made the noise, and I watch his eyes come into focus as he stares at me. “You're awake.”

“Yea…” I can feel tubing pressing against my nose and I reach up to pull it off. Dean leans over and puts his hand over mine, gently pushing my hand down to the bed.

“Leave it, they just got you stable enough to use that instead of a mask.” He leans back and watches me, but stays quiet. He looks like he’s thinking about what to say; I know he has a lot of questions, and I’m afraid of what he’ll ask first. I also wonder what he already knows, and how he’s managed to get in here and stay for such an extended amount of time.

“How’d you manage to not get kicked out?”

“Told ‘em we were married, that we were on our honeymoon.”

I would laugh, but I know it’s going to hurt. Judging by the look on his face, it probably isn’t wise anyway. “What about Sam?”

“Told ‘em he lives nearby and that we were visiting him. He’s getting coffee right now.” He crosses his arms, “It was a little harder to explain all the bruises, and why you were pumped full of painkillers before you got here. And the massive amount of blood you were coughing up, see that was the hardest one, because they just assume a husband would know his wife’s medical history.”

“Well, we aren’t actually married-”

“Nope, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and the look of betrayal on his face makes it incredibly hard to look him in the eye. “We are family, Y/N. I get that maybe I want more than that, and that you aren't ready for it. That's fine, but you are still my family. We are supposed to take care of each other. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and you lying about this...it could have gotten any of us killed. You realize this, right? I should have realized at the hotel something was wrong...I should know the difference between lipstick and blood.”

“Dean…”

“Listen, I’m not...I’m not angry. I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I just want to understand why you didn’t think you could trust me with this. Why did you not let us help you?”

“It’s difficult to explain-”

“Hello, Y/N.” I recognize the voice before I even turn to face whoever interrupted me.

“Hey, doc.”

She walks around to the end of the bed, clipboard in hand, and glances over at Dean, “This is your husband?” I swallow nervously; she knows I’m not married. It’s not been that long since I’ve seen her. The look in her eyes is a soft accusation, but when I nod in confirmation, she gives him a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you.” She looks down at the chart and when she looks back up, I can see it on her face. “I think you probably know what I’m going to tell you, but I’m guessing he’d like to know what’s going on, and I think you need to know exactly how bad this is.”

That’s the one thing about her that I like; she’s straightforward, no bullshit. She somehow knows that Dean has no idea what’s going on, and I’m simultaneously impressed and terrified. He was never supposed to know about this. I was going to go out hunter style, a blaze of bloody glory. I was alone. Why didn’t I just stay alone?

“Your cancer has spread. It’s no longer just in one lung and the lymph nodes on that side, it’s in both, which is why you began to cough up so much blood. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Your body is exhausted, and it’s starting to give up. Without treatment…” she trails off and looks at Dean, who looks like he’s about to be sick. “Even with treatment, it will simply be done to keep you comfortable, though it may prolong your life slightly. Without treatment, your time is very limited. I’m...I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but...I chose this. I knew what was going to happen.”

She nods, then gently pats my blanketed leg, “I’m going to go, give you some time to decide.” She looks at Dean one last time, then walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I drop my head back against the pillows and close my eyes. Shit.

“Cancer?” His voice is quiet, but rough with held back tears. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter; I can’t look at him.

“Dean, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Omaha...I didn’t…”

“What are you going to do?” I look at him sharply, but he’s looking down at his hands instead of me.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up, and his eyes are even brighter from the tears he’s fighting against. It hurts more than anything else he could even say. “Are you going to do treatment, or no?”

I swallow thickly, knowing he’s not going to like the answer. I don’t like the answer, but it’s for the best. “I’m tired, Dean. I’m tired and broken, and I can’t drag this out longer. I just can’t. I don’t want to waste away in some bed somewhere, knowing that I’m just putting off the inevitable. I want to go home...I want to spend time with you and Sam, I want to save as many people as I can before it’s over. I just...I wanna go home.”

He blinks, then rubs a palm roughly against his eyes as he stands up, “Okay, well, let’s bust you out of here then. I’m gonna go talk to the nurse. I’ll...I’ll be back to get you. If Sammy comes back while I’m gone, let him know where I went.” He walks out of the room without another word.

I lay back and close my eyes, and I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Read Part 5 HERE.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here!

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milleniumhan · 6 years

Text

Never coming home. // Peter Parker Fanfiction. // Part I.

Summary: Enemies to friends to lovers, that is all I have to say.

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker.

Warnings: It gets more emotional than I expected. I might have cried a little bit while I wrote this.

A smol-lil note: Hi guys! I haven’t written in sooo long! I’m so happy to finally be feeling inspired again! I thought I would post this before I start working full-time and have less time to write for you :( <3 This is the first part of many, please let me know if you would like to be part of the tag-list! I really hope you like it and please let me know if you do. ABIG thank you to all the people who reblog and give feedback, it helps a ton! More than you know! Alright, I’ll let you be now. <3 -K

Part one: Your ghosts.

[7:30 am: Sunny borough of Queens, NY.]

You looked out the window to inspect the weather. There were some clouds, but the sky was a particular shade of blue that was noticeable enough to make it feel like Summer was finally invading. Looking up at it almost made you feel...infinite. You took a deep breath which filled every corner of your soul with the fresh, bittersweet scent that the lemon trees surrounding your building emanated, making you smile. It was yet another small reminder that everything was okay.

You had gotten up early for school, for once, making you able to have a real, hearty breakfast. The first one in a long time. You even managed to walk to school, instead of taking the bus, grabbing a cup of coffee at your favorite café on the way.

This, however, was not the case for Mr. Peter Parker.

[8:00 am: In another-not so distant-building in Queens, NY.]

Peter rolled around in his bed, running a sloppy hand through his hair. He stretched his limbs out as far as he could as he gently rubbed the slumber out of his eyes. A yawn or two were in place as well. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying hard to make the sensation of lethargy go away from his body. His bones ached and his muscles burned. Being a part-time vigilante had proven to take a toll on him, even if he had the ability to recover quickly. When he finally started to make sense of what was going on he turned to the alarm clock: Late, again.

“wHAT-OH, COME ON!” He raced out of bed and quickly put on his pants, not taking any mind of the red and blue suit that still covered his body. He rushed to the bathroom and put his hair in place, or at least attempted to. As he brushed his teeth, he examined himself on the mirror out of the corner of his eye and notices a small scratch across his right cheek. A battle wound to remember last night by. “I don’t have time for this, it’ll go away soon anyway” he thought to himself as he spit on the sink and continued to dash through the small apartment.

Peter ran through his usual route without any sign of stopping, he was determined to get to school no matter what. trying to get to the spot where he usually met with Ned as fast as he could and praying to the god he was still there. Peter felt relieve come out of his body in the form of a desperate exhale when he turned the corner and found his best friend, the guy in the chair, standing there, waiting patiently. Ned turned around at the heavy sound of steps.

“Dude!” he half-shouted

“I know, I know late, I’m sorry Ned.” Peter started, already thinking about a million excuses for his tardiness.

“Dudeee!” Ned said again, this time louder and with wide eyes.

Peter stared back at him, confused as ever.

“Cover yourself up before someone sees you!” the alarm in Ned’s voice growing more and more by the second.

Peter looked down at himself, trying to figure out what he meant. The suit was showing underneath his hoodie. He had forgotten to put on a shirt. “Fuck” he whispered as he zipped the outerwear all the way up, hoping that would work.

“Ned” Peter started as he made his way next to his companion “What the hell would I do without you?”

“You would die, probably” Ned responded, only half-joking.

[8:30 am: Midtown School of Science and Technology. Oh boy, high school.]

You waited patiently for MJ on the steps just outside the school. You sighed, unsettled, as you looked around and didn’t see her. She was never late. “I guess there’s always a first time for everything” you reasoned. You waited a little bit longer before looking around once more, this time your eyes stumbled upon Peter’s, both of you turning away as fast as possible. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “Peter-freaking-Parker” you huffed. Just as you exhaled those words, MJ appeared behind you, letting her presence be known by the chuckle she immediately let out.

“What’s the deal with you and Parker?” she said in a nonchalant, almost sneering manner. Her sudden appearance making you jump.

“Hey, MJ. Nice of you to show up.”

MJ rolled her eyes before signaling the entrance. You both started walking into school and to your lockers.

“Don’t try to change the subject. There’s always this unspoken tension between you and Peter and it’s driving me nuts. You are so competitive with each other too, and I know that also annoys everyone in the team, even Flash, and he’s an asshole.” You paused for a second, trying to find a dumb excuse, a way to get out of this by revealing as little information as possible.

“I just don’t like him” you finally blurted out with a small shrug and continued walking over the shiny hallway tiles. MJ gave you a skeptical look to which you replied with another shrug.

“Really? That’s the best you got?” you raised your eyebrows in compliance with your own lie. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll find out eventually” MJ finished with a wink and an evil smirk before turning around and leaving you standing there, dumbfounded and afraid of what she was up to.

The bell rang: Finally, lunch break. You sighed with relief as you left for the cafeteria, you only had two more classes left and nothing had happened yet. You had been on edge the whole day, especially whenever MJ and Peter would interact, which was pretty much all the time since you all had the same classes. You kept trying to control your raging thoughts, hoping MJ didn’t really mean anything by what she had said earlier.

After waiting in line for your food, you made your way to the same table you always sat at next to MJ. Usually, at this time of day, MJ and you would have lunch in silence as you both read whichever book you were on that week, but not this time. The first thing you noticed was how MJ didn’t have a book by her side. The second, more alarming thing, was that she was seated next to Peter.

“What’s going on?” you said in a stronger tone than you had hoped, glancing towards Peter and then back at MJ.

“Well, as official captain of the decathlon team, I thought we needed to have a bit of a meeting.”

“What, right now?”

“Mm-hm” MJ simply replied, derisive as ever. “We won’t be able to do it after class since they are closing the library early today, so we might as well do it now.”

You stared at her intently, trying to figure out what she was doing. “Well, what about the rest of the team?” you said as you carefully placed down your tray on the table.

“Oh, they are the reason I am here.” Even though MJ sounded serious, the stupid grin on her face told you otherwise. “The team came to me, telling me that they are having a lot of trouble studying with you guys.”

“I-I don’t understand” Peter finally spoke for the first time since you had arrived “What’s that supposed to mean?” You glanced over at MJ, the same question in mind.

“Well, they are a bit concerned with how you treat each other and how it’s been affecting the team, and frankly, I can’t blame them. You are always coming at each other, interrupting lessons just to say something snarky about one another and constantly competing to see who knows the most, which is not what teams are about.” You could tell MJ was really being serious now.

A scoff left both Peter’s mouth and yours as you both crossed your arms and pouted like children being scolded.

“So, what are you saying?” You said, still with your arms crossed.

“Well, the team and I came thought of a way you could make it up to us.” The smirk creeping back to MJ’s face. “You will both get together, study the material and come up with the questions for the next team meeting. The team depends on the questions to perform well on the actual competition, so, no pressure.”

“WHAT? ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Peter couldn’t contain his shock, but before any of you could keep on protesting, MJ got up and left for class as the bell started to ring. You both sat there until it stopped ringing, looking at each other in what seemed to be a mixture of awe and hate.

After school you started to head home, still mad at MJ and not being able to grasp the concept of spending time with Peter, more than you already did anyway. You felt a bit foolish, you knew you shouldn’t hate Peter, what happened between you was a long time ago and you didn’t like to hold grudges, but he was clearly mad at you as well and you just couldn’t help it. After a while of swimming in your own thoughts, you decided to turn around and head for Peter’s apartment, maybe you could finally resolve this...plus, you really needed to start studying for decathlon. You walked through the streets of Queens, your feet knowing the way to his place by heart, you used to go there so often before after all. Right before you entered his building, you decided to take a detour to the store next to it and buy him some gummies, take it as a gift of reconciliation if you will. When you finally got to his door, you took a deep breath as you got the courage to knock on the door. Before your knuckles could so much as brush the piece of wood in front of you, you were met with a breathless Peter Parker. You exchanged glances before you looked down and noticed his hoodie was unzipped, revealing the red and blue vigilante suit underneath it. Your eyes opened wide with awe, a gasp leaving your mouth before your mind could even process what you were looking at.

Tag-list babes, PLEASE READ: If you are part of my permanent tag-list, first of all, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart <3, and second of all, please, PLEASE let me know if you only want to be exclusively tagged on ST content/fics. I will be posting from various fandoms, so I really need to know. If you don’t message me/comment/let me know, I will just assume you are okay with me tagging you in other non-ST related things. Thank you very much. <3

@ambeazyyy @ditchthesticks @javapeach @justrunawayoftheshit @missnena2194 @steveharringtonofficial @tobarblog @theroyalbrownbarbie @lilo-1398 @ayatimascd

#Spider-Man: Homecoming #infinity war #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man: hoco #mcu fanfiction #spider-man #peter parker #avengers #tom holland

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hellomissmabel · 7 years

Text

We are your family

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Stucky x plus size!reader

Warnings: cheating, hinting towards self harm and a polyamorous relationship (this is not my usual jam but the story is open to interpretation. With this story I felt comfortable writing it from this particular point of view, but I won’t write this subject again I think). Platonic love between Steve and Y/N. Romantic love between Bucky and Y/N and Bucky and Steve. Basically, everybody loves Steve.

Word count: 1.768

Summary: When Y/N broke up with her long-term boyfriend Colin Shea after he cheated on her, she was in a very bad place until she fell in love with Bucky. Steve and Bucky have been talking about kids for a long time now but things always got in their way. Flashforward to 2 years later, Y/N is moved in with Bucky and Steve and they’re ready to take the next big step in their relationship, a baby.

A/N: I’ve posted a masterlist with all upcoming plus size!reader fics. I keep getting new ideas, so this masterlist will be updated as the ideas come and go. There will always be an announcement post. If you want on the tag list, please comment on the announcement post of send me an ask!

Dedicated to @mrshopkirk. Sarah is @iwishyouwouid, Lisa is @heartmade-writingbucky and Emily is @emilyevanston

All plus size fics can be found here

“So how are your new roommates?”

“Ugh, they’re amazing,” you sigh into the phone, drawing a small laugh from your best friend. “A big improvement!”

“I bet they are,” Sarah chuckles knowingly, “You broke up two years ago, Y/N. It was about time you moved out. Also, Lisa wanted me to tell you that Emily moved out, too.”

“Yeah, they told me during our weekly coffee chat. Lately Colin’s been pushing everyone’s buttons. He’s gone on a late night drag three times in a row now.”

Your best friend scoffs and you can imagine her eyerolling from the other end of the phone. “Anyway, about my roommates,” you speak animatedly, twirling around the kitchen as you hold your phone between your cheek and your shoulder, making sure you don’t drop it as you prepare your lunch.

“They are really sweet and when I moved in they held this kind of housewarming party with the entire team. You remember Bucky, right?”

“Let me guess, he’s tall, dark and handsome? Exactly your type?,” Sarah pokes you gently. Juggling three oranges in your hands, you carefully place them on the counter so you can prepare some orange juice later for yourself and your roommates.

“Shut up, Sarah. Sounds to me you’re describing that actor you’re currently crushing on. What’s his face again? Oh, yeah, Sebastian Stan,” you playfully jab back as you heat up the waffle iron. “So Bucky is the guy with the metal arm,” you comment casually, the lively tone to your words prompting a hearty laugh from your friend.

Since you finally pulled the plug on your miserable post-break-up life with Colin and moved in with your boyfriend at Stark Tower, Bucky is all you’ve been talking about. Sarah is actually one of the few people that are in the loop about your special arrangement with Bucky and Steve and she supports your decision, even though it was a bit of a shock at first. She would’ve never have pegged you as the type.

“Every Sunday he gets up early to make us pancakes. And Steve always makes me a cup of tea before bed.”

“Uhu, sounds like a real dreamboat to me,” Sarah confirms softly when you’re struggling with the batter for your waffles, eventually getting it right by adding some more milk to the mixture. “But I still can’t believe you’re actually living at Stark Tower now, with the Avengers, sharing an apartment with Captain America. Even if you and Bucky have been dating for a while now.”

“They helped me back on my feet, Sarah. I was a real mess after Colin and I broke up. He cheated on me with a model he picked up on one of those parties he got invited to. Do you realise how ridiculous that made me look?”

You sigh softly, running your free hand over your face in reminiscence. “I’m a plus size girl with a hot boyfriend who just happens to be an up-and-coming musician, which was already a big enough scandal because God forbid a handsome man is in love with a girl that isn’t a size two!”

“I’d still be heartbroken and pining over Colin if I didn’t spill my pumpkin spice latte all over Bucky. I’d still be miserable and living at his place, suffering through countless nights of loud sex and beautiful girls moaning his name. I’d still hate my body and harm myself if it wasn’t for Bucky and Steve,” you jump to their defence, pouring the batter in the waffle iron with a sad smile.

The first two waffles are usually a bit of a hit and miss, so you quickly throw them in the garbage bin and make yourself a second pair of golden-brown waffles. As they are sizzling in the iron, you lean against the kitchen cupboards and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yeah, I know, sweetie, I know…”

You bake a neat pile of waffles while you continue to gush about your roommates to your best friend. Another half hour passes and you feel your phone bill tugging at your wallet, so you promise Sarah to call her same time next week.

“Sarah?,” you ask her, your tone suddenly turning serious. “About their proposal… You think I should say yes? I mean, Bucky is just the best boyfriend ever and Steve is… well, he’s Steve Rogers!”

“Y/N, you obviously trust Bucky. You’ve also already seen each other naked, so it won’t be awkward. But it’s a big step and it’ll change your entire life.”

With great care your arrange the table, making sure it looks nice and tidy before you cut the oranges for the orange juice. “Yeah, I know. But I feel like I’m ready. And Bucky and Steve will be there for me, too, of course.”

You’ve just finished dividing it over three glasses when Steve enters the apartment, drops of sweat glistening on his forehead from his morning workout session at the park.

“Good morning, Stevie!,” you greet the blond with a casual wave. “I gotta go, Sarah. Steve has arrived,” you say goodbye to Sarah.

“Good morning, Y/N!,” he replies with a beaming smile as he pecks your cheek and heads for the shower.

“I’ve prepared breakfast!,” you shout after him, grounding some more coffee for when Bucky comes back home from his mission. He’s been gone all night and even though he told you not to worry, that it’s just standard procedure and nothing bad will happen, you can’t help but concerned.

Over the sound of the shower, you can hear Steve yell a sincere thank you. “You are an absolute doll, Y/N.”

Not long after Steve has emerged from the shower and the coffee is ready, Bucky joins the two of you. He looks exhausted, dark circles hugging his red-rimmed baby blues. Bucky rubs his eyes and smiles softly as he sees all the effort you’ve made to put together a cosy breakfast.

“You shouldn’t have, babe,” he thanks you as he kisses the tip of your nose before sitting down.

Steve secures his towel around his waist and wanders to the kitchen table, taking a seat opposite Bucky. You sit down on the empty chair next to the brunet and he snakes his metal arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “I’ve got something to tell you,” you announce softly after clearing your throat.

The table falls silent, Steve pausing mid-bite and looking at you in great anticipation. Bucky is the one to break the silence first, albeit involuntarily, as a small moan slips past his lips as he tastes your homemade waffles. “Sorry babe but these are amazing!,” he chuckles as he takes another forkful.

“It’s okay, you dork,” you say as you bump his nose. “So I first wanna say that I love you guys and that I’m really happy I moved in. So after much thought and consideration...”

The tension is palpable and before you speak again, Bucky gently rests his right hand on your knee. “I asked you because I love you. I’ve always loved you,” he says sincerely as he squeezes your knee.

“First as a little sister when you were at your worst and we nurtured you back to health. Then as a friend when you started dating Bucky and now…” Steve releases a deep sigh, searching your eyes.

“You know that my feelings for you… they transcend the boundaries of a normal friendship. I care so much about you, Y/N. You are smart, beautiful and funny. You are my dream woman and that’s why I’m asking you to be the mother of our child.”

“Oh Steve,” you blush lightly as more words of praise reach your ears. Bucky chimes in, telling you how he, too, has come to love you just as much. Both men voice their love for you and it makes your heart grow warm and fuzzy.

“But I’m nothing special,” you chuckle softly, “I’m just a girl with curves.”

“No, Y/N,” Steve immediately interjects, “You’re a gorgeous full-figured woman and I can’t imagine a better mother.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” you smile kindly at him. “But you don’t need to convince me anymore. My answer is yes. Yes, I want to have a baby with you and Bucky.”

Bucky bursts out in happy laughter, hugging you affectionately as soon as you’ve said those last words. Steve joins Bucky in his endeavour and wraps his arms around you, too. “I’m kinda nervous, though. I really want a baby but I’m so anxious I won’t get pregnant. I don’t wanna disappoint you guys. The baby will share Bucky’s genes and mine…”

You turn your head and your gaze crosses Steve’s baby blues. “But it’ll be your baby, too, Steve.”

“You will never disappoint us, Y/N,” Steve whispers into your hair before pecking the crown of your head and kneeling next to you, his eyes still locked with yours. “Yes, genetically the baby will be yours and Bucky’s. But that doesn’t mean I won’t love it any less.”

“I’ve always wanted a child so bad. You know, a family of my own,” you whisper through the happy tears trickling down your cheeks. “And I thought that Colin would be the one for me but then he cheated on me and I saw my dream vanish into thin air, to the point I completely obliterated myself just to please him…”

Your breath hitches in your throat and Bucky’s tender lips kiss your temple, rocking you softly. “He can’t hurt you anymore, love. You don’t have to go back. You’ve got us now, honey,” Bucky assures you, smiling down at you. “We are your family.”

“We’re in this together, Y/N,” Steve adds to Bucky’s pledge as he presses his forehead to yours. “We love you so much, doll.”

It’s unconventional, this little family of yours, but it feels so right. Bucky has always loved you and Steve fits into your world so perfectly you honestly can’t remember a time you didn’t know him. But Steve is still Captain America and the world looks up to him, so it won’t be easy to keep your relationship away from prying eyes.

Bucky has already vowed to cut back on missions once you’re with child, and he will retire as soon as the baby is born so he can devote all this time and his full attention to your little one. Meanwhile, Steve will gently ease the public into the thought of Captain America passing the shield along to someone equally worthy so that in the end, all three of you can watch your baby grow up.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean67 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @beyondbarnes @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @riskybarnes @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @mizzzpink @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24

Tag list for all plus size stories: @suz-123 @kiwi71281 @whatisaheroanyway @ilovebeingjoyful @veronicalei @meganlane84 @thescarsweleave @isaxhorror @pleasantdreamqueen @georgiadean37 @revlismoriarty @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @evyiione @salamander-falls @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @jughead-wuz-here @jasmineladjevardi @sonofadeanwinchester @3dsaunt @marvel-at-bucky @nothin-after-79 @sexy-sea-basss @shesmade0fcandy @breezy1415 @wtfisalltherandoms @mrs-dr-strange @disneymarina @secondsandstars @brandybucky

We are your family tag list: @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @iamwarrenspeace @hi-my-name-is-riley @georgiagrl1990 @magellan-88 @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @mo320 @imsupernaturalbaby @wolverinesgirl14 @dsny87 @kudosia @wildestdreamsrps @s7sense @jesspfly @chubisgirl @peppermint-teas

Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you!

#stucky #stucky x plus size reader #stucky x plus size!reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 7 years

Text

Perfect Strangers Part II-Loki Laufeyson Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: angst and fluff

Tags: @assgardstark

The Avengers’ eyes were all trained on Y/N, who stood at the head of the conference room, shifting her weight from one combat boot to the other. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at any of them mostly due to her own shame and also, she didn’t really know how to explain herself.

“Any time, Agent Y/L/N,” Fury said from his post near the entrance door.

“Right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “I’ve always known that I was...different from other people. Most of of my life, I was in and out of hospitals because I would go into seizure-like episodes but the doctors could never help me.” She swallowed thickly, opting to glance at each Avengers’ forehead rather than look them in the eye as she spoke. “One day, someone pulled a nasty trick on me in middle school, and I think it triggered my powers because at night, I wound up in a library in Asgard, where I met Loki.”

Thor leaned forward in his seat at her words while the rest of the team members remained either neutral or reclined in their seats, their interest remaining in Y/N’s tale.

“Only Loki was in the library at the time?” Thor asked.

“Yes.”

“What happened when you met him?” Steve asked.

“He...he helped me begin to cope with getting bullied and for the first time, I didn’t feel like a freak. I only had one friend at the time, but she could never understand what I went through, but Loki did and it was nice. Anyway, he helped me figure out how I could use my powers to get home and I never saw him again,” Y/N said.

“Until today,” Steve said.

“Yeah.” Y/N glanced at Thor, who seemed less than pleased with her tale. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Tony asked.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s not the easiest thing to bring up and I didn’t want to be linked with someone so evil. Thor can back me up when I say that he wasn’t always evil----arrogant, yes, but he used to be kind.”

Steve, Tony, and Bruce glanced at the golden-haired god of thunder who slowly nodded. “Lady Y/N is right. My brother is capable of doing good, but I don’t know what happened. However, it doesn’t change what you have done here, Y/N.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “What?”

“You’ve broken my trust in you and possibly the rest of the team’s,” Thor said.

“I understand that and I’m sorry, but, as I said, there wasn’t really a time or place for me to tell anyone appropriately.”

“We could’ve used you to get intel on him,” Fury said.

Y/N shook her head. “Thor would have been more useful----Loki hasn’t seen me in fifteen years!”

“Yet he was more open with you than he was with me down there,” Thor said.

Y/N stiffened and let Thor’s words sink in. Loki seemed to enjoy toying with Thor more than divulging any of his plans to him and though he had tried the same thing with Y/N, he still revealed some of his plans albeit in a disrespectful way. There was no way that Loki held Y/N in a higher regard than he did Thor even though it seemed that at a young age, Loki had a bit of a distaste for his brother.

“For the time being, you’re dismissed, Agent Y/L/N, until we decide what to do with you,” Fury said.

“Yes, Sir.” Y/N nodded her head and hurried out of the room.

Slowly, she made her way to her own quarters and as soon as the door closed behind her, she let the tears she had been holding back since she saw Loki, fall down her cheeks. These tears were a mix of frustration, confusion, and anger. Y/N had a feeling that it wasn’t the best thing for her to keep her past with Loki a secret, but she didn’t think it would put her in danger of being dismissed from the Avengers or even SHIELD itself. She wished that she had told Thor as soon as possible that she’d met Loki when she first traveled through dimensions. She wished that she’d never confronted Max about that stupid note in front of his entire table. She wished that Professor Xavier had reached out to her before Fury did and helped her gain control of her powers earlier. Dejectedly, she wished that she had never been born at all.

“Stupid powers,” Y/N muttered as she slid down her door to sit down. “Never did anything right or useful.”

Stop it, Loki’s voice echoed through her head.

Y/N bolted upright and whirled around to face the door. There was no one there. Maybe she was finally losing it.

You are as sane as ever, Y/N, I’m speaking to you through my mind, Loki said.

She began to shake her head. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening. Get out of my head,” she griped.

It sounds like I should stay seeing as what you were thinking. If you had told my brother about us, he would not have trusted you as easily and you would not be as close as you are now, Loki said.

“You’re not supposed to be able to do this. The...the chamber is supposed to---”

While this infernal contraption does weaken my powers, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Don’t worry, I can’t escape by myself any time soon, Loki said.

Y/N had to do something. She should call for Fury, Thor, Steve, Natasha, anyone really.

You will do no such thing, Y/N. Listen to me: if you hadn’t been bullied and if someone who knew how to help you found you earlier, you would have never met me and that would have been awful. Loki sounded a lot more serious than he had before.

“How?” Y/N whispered. “How could it have been any worse than it is now?”

Because I never would have met you and meeting you was, perhaps, the best thing that ever happened to me. You were my first friend and I did not have to fight over you with Thor, he said.

No, he did not get to make this romantic, he did not get to get a rise out of Y/N, he did not get to mess around in her head like this. Y/N didn’t notice her body begin to vibrate lightly nor did she take note of the flash of light. She did notice that all she saw was red when she realized she was back in the prison unit and Loki was standing in front of her. The few agents on guard tried to come at her, but they were too slow as Y/N marched over to Loki.

“Stop acting as though meeting me had any sort of effect on you,” Y/N hissed. “If it did, you wouldn’t have tried to destroy the Bifrost in Asgard or take over my planet. You would have tried to keep a good relationship with Thor and not let any petty sibling jealousy get in the way!” Loki did not appear surprised at Y/N’s blazing y/e/c eyes nor at her bared teeth. He did not seem too amused either, but rather sincere and tender as he took a step towards the chemical glass that separated them. “That is where you are wrong, Y/N, because if I hadn’t met you, this would all be far worse.”

She hated the sincerity in his eyes that said that he was telling the truth and she hated how much her old feelings from fifteen years ago were beginning to claw at her heart.

“Agent Y/L/N,” Fury called. “Step away from Loki.”

“Stay out of my head,” Y/N hissed.

She turned on her heel and followed Fury into the elevator.

“You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve for coming down here after that meeting,” Fury said.

“He needed to know that he couldn’t mess around in my head any longer.”

Fury paused for a long time and didn’t speak until the elevators opened onto the main floor. There, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Tony, and Thor along with about half of the SHIELD agents stood.

“We’ve agreed on what to do with you, Y/N,” Fury said.

He and Y/N stepped out of the elevator together and Y/N tossed a nervous glance in Steve’s direction.

“You are a loyal member to SHIELD and to the Avengers. We reviewed the conversation and you never showed a sign of wanting to join Loki and his men,” Steve said. “Therefore, we agreed that we wish for you to remain a member of the Avengers.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Me? An Avenger? But, I wouldn’t know how---”

“We’re still figuring this out, too, might as well add someone new to the mix,” Tony said.

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin that worked its way onto her mouth. “Thank you so much, Steve, I mean Captain, you won’t regret it.”

“Steve is fine, Agent Y/L/N,” he said with a kind smile.

The rest of the team congratulated Y/N as well, but Natasha added that they would begin training as soon as possible. Training with a world class assassin like Natasha was never high up on Y/N’s list of things she always wanted to do, but if it was necessary to keep her on the team, she would go with it. The team began to separate----Bruce and Tony headed up to the lab, Steve and Fury went to strategize, and Natasha headed towards the gym, leaving Y/N with Thor.

“Congratulations on becoming one of us, Y/N,” Thor said.

“Thanks. I’m sorry again for not telling you about Loki. It was weird thinking about him as the teenage boy I stumbled upon in Asgard all those years ago and I knew you and he were going through a tough time when I met you,” Y/N said. “Still, I should’ve told you sooner. Is there anyway you could forgive me?”

Thor kept a thoughtful expression on his face for a moment, which made Y/N a little nervous. “In time, I suppose I can forgive you.”

Y/N grinned and couldn’t stop herself from hugging her giant friend. He let out of a hearty laugh as he returned the hug. “Try not to crush me.”

“I would never do that...on purpose.”

Y/N pulled away and playfully swatted his arm, making him laugh even harder. They slowly began walking away, making the SHIELD agents that had crowded around before return to their original assignments.

“Lady Y/N, may I be honest with you?” Thor asked.

“Of course.”

“After Loki met you, he seemed happier and a bit more outgoing. When I asked him about it, he made up a strange excuse, but now I think that you’re the reason he changed during that time.”

“It must not have lasted too long.”

“Perhaps. I wonder what would have happened if you met me instead of him that night.”

“You’d probably make me fight you or threaten me with prison.”

“Probably.”

In that moment, it seemed that all was right again in the world but it was actually far from it. In the back of her mind, Y/N knew this but chose to ignore it. Late that night, she sensed someone in her room even though she was in a deep sleep. Suddenly, she was torn away from her dream as she sat up straight, staring at Loki, who stood at the foot her bed. He was wearing his royal robes, complete with the horned headpiece and a staff. He simply radiated evil and Y/N cringed away from him.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked.

“A king simply can’t rule without his queen.” He extended his hand towards her. “Join me, Y/N, and rule over this planet with me.”

His words were sweet and inviting, but he wasn’t trying to control her or manipulate her, which he had done to Clint. Loki was simply asking her to join him, to forget that she had just made things right with her friends and join him. She should’ve screamed at him, attacked him, and called for reinforcements, but she didn’t. Y/N only sat in her bed and stared at him in shock. Her choice was obvious, so why wasn’t she speaking?

#loki laufeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki x reader #requested

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