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forhereyesonlyyy · 3 years

Text

love call. // iz*one, kcw. // one-shot.

in which missing your hardworking girlfriend causes you to do ungodly things, like staying up until two in the morning to drag her out for a late night date.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: chaewon on the brain all day 🥰 this is just something short and sweet for all my fellow chaewon thinkers 😩☝️ i wish to see her on a stage again 🥺

tags: fluff, wlw, established relationship, goofy, is it obvious i'm running out of things to say here.

warnings: none.

Perhaps your friends were right when they said that your girlfriend was the only person that could get you to act right because if she were around you right at this moment, you wouldn't be walking around the empty streets at two in the morning wearing shorts and a simple jacket. But you couldn't sleep to save your life, and you were getting tired just pacing around your room. Besides, what's a better plan than to take a short stroll around the neighborhood?

You could have probably watched another Netflix movie or played until your eyes started burning, but contrary to popular belief, you actually wanted to live beyond your 40s. It's not like walking around in the dark with absolutely no regard for what might be watching in the shadows was any safer, but at least you were having fun!

The city was practically dead anyway. Not even cars were seen driving around the streets. It truly felt like you were the only person in the world, and you loved that feeling. But it would have been more lovely if your girlfriend was with you.

Being an idol sure is demanding. I hope she's taking care of herself.

As if she could hear your thoughts from the other side of the city, your phone starts ringing and the special ringtone you set up just for when she calls or texts you starts filling the air. You immediately pulled out your phone and grinned when you saw her contact name on the screen.

You eagerly pressed the green button and put the phone against your ear, "Hi, beautiful."

Kim Chaewon laughs from the other line and you could feel your heart growing twice its size. Oh, how you longed to hear her laugh in person instead of through your phone. IZ*ONE has been busy with their Japanese promotions and they only got to go home a month ago, even then they had to attend a lot more activities. They had no time for rest, or to have a nice day off. It was the main reason why you have been so very worried about your girlfriend.

"I knew you'd be awake. Can't sleep?" Chaewon asks. You could hear her grunt, she was probably getting ready to sleep. While you appreciated her checking up on you at this ungodly hour, you wished that she just went straight to sleep. God knows how long of a day she probably had.

"As always. What's your excuse?" You jog across the street, your eyes fixed on the glowing sign of a cafè. Now you were fully aware of how you just stumbled into a street full of stores that are open until after midnight, and you have never been more thankful for bringing your wallet with you.

"Not to sound like I'm in love with you but," Chaewon pauses, and you could almost see her biting her bottom lip out of both nervousness and enthusiasm. "I was missing you— have been missing you. A lot. Too much, maybe?" Chaewon laughs at herself, and then mutters some nonsense that you couldn't decipher because her words made you stop on your tracks and tear up just a little.

Maybe you were too sensitive, or too dramatic, but you couldn't even put how much you missed her into words. For the months she was gone, you lost count of how many times you wished she would just come back to you. Perhaps you really were too attached, because at some point, you were in over your head at the thought of Chaewon realizing that romance did not have a place in her life as a rising star.

It was your biggest fear, getting abandoned by the person you love the most. Before Chaewon became your girlfriend, she was your most precious childhood friend. There was not a time in your life where she was never there for you, and you truly belived that your friendship would go on for the rest of your life.

You realized that your feelings for Chaewon was more than what a normal person would feel for their best friend when you entered your new high school together. She was just... glowing when you both attended the entrance ceremony, and you vividly remember how she gently took your hand in hers and promised that she'll do her best to make you proud.

But she didn't need to promise anything. Chaewon was already perfect in your eyes, you knew she wouldn't disappoint you ever.

Then on the same night she was announced to be a member of IZ*ONE, Chaewon expressed her gratitude to you by coming into your house and wordlessly kissing you while in tears. You didn't need her to confess her feelings through words since her kiss had already told you everything she wanted you to hear.

And now here you were, stronger than ever despite not having been seen each other for months too long.

"I miss you too, Chae," You replied after collecting yourself. There was no way that you would just allow yourself to break down in tears in the middle of the street. "Tell you what, the moment you're free to hang out, I'll get you that delicious strawberry cake we always loved consuming."

Chaewon laughs again, and the sound just makes you grin like a crazy person, "I'll hold you to that, (Y/N)." A yawn escapes her, and she groans. She probably knows that now you know that she's tired, you'll go on and on about how she should go to sleep. And you most certainly will!

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll text you when I wake up." You said. You did want to talk more, you wanted to hear Chaewon's voice for so many more hours but you'd hate to be the reason why she's so worn out. There will be opportunities some other time, I just have to be patient.

"Mm~ okay, I will," You hear some shuffling in the background. It was Chaewon making herself comfortable in her bed. "Wait. (Y/N), my love, are you seriously outside right now?" Your girlfriend questions. And all of a sudden, she didn't sound so tired anymore.

You scratched your head, "Um. No. What makes you think that?" It was never a good idea to lie to the person that knows you better than anyone else, but you had to try!

"I can literally hear the wind against your mic." Chaewon said. You squeezed your eyes shut, of course you would lose the battle before it even started.

Sighing, you turned away from the various shops, "Fine, fine. I am outside. I just... took a little walk because I couldn't fall asleep. I'll be going back home now, where I'm safe and where my beloved wouldn't yell at me." You replied with a teasing smile although Chaewon couldn't see it.

"It's dangerous to be out so late in the night, babe. I thought I told you that if you can't sleep, you can just call me?" You could hear Chaewon sit back up. Her tone was firm, you knew you couldn't joke around with her anymore. You take a seat at the nearest empty bench and snuggled yourself in your jacket. It was getting colder, but something inside you told you to not go home just yet despite your girlfriend's scolding.

"But you've been overworked to the bone, Chae. I didn't want to be an inconvenience," You admitted. You nervously fiddled with the zipper of your jacket. "You shouldn't even be calling me right now, you know?"

"(Y/N)... I'll use my time however I want, and if it's to talk to you, I'll take every sleepless nights I can get," Oh, you were so hopelessly in love with this woman. You leaned back on the bench as tears suddenly started falling down your cheeks. It absolutely infuriated you how Chaewon just knew what to say to you. "You're never a bother, okay? I love you, I really do." Chaewon means every word that she says, you could feel it in your heart.

You held back a sob, "I love you more, dummy."

Chaewon explodes in a burst of adorable giggles, "You're the dummy here! But in all seriousness, please go home. I wouldn't want you to get sick when I'm not there to take care of you." Even though your girlfriend was right, the brightly lit shops further down the street made several light bulbs in your head illuminate, and you just couldn't pass up on the opportunity to do that.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going back now." You said, now jogging towards the bike rental shop. The staff sitting by the entrance gave you a small wave as you approached him.

"Good girl," Chaewon yawns again, and you hear her collapse against the pillows. "Don't stay awake for too long now. Love you." Her words were slurred, you just knew she was one second away from running off into dreamland.

You smiled brightly, "Love you more." And with that, you hung up. You finally looked at the old man sitting by the bikes with shining, eager eyes.

Genius, that is what I am.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you start regretting your life choices. You were standing right outside IZ*ONE's backyard dead in the night, it wouldn't be surprising if someone mistakes you as a burglar or an obsessive fan and decides to call the cops on you. But you were already there, you would only wear yourself out if you decide to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, you carefully dropped the bike on the ground and took out your phone.

Before you could think to contact Chaewon once again, the sound of footsteps hurriedly approaching made you panic. I'm really about to be arrested like this, huh? It's been a fun life I guess.

"EUNBI-UNNIE, THERE'S A THIEF— wait, (Y/N)?!"

As if it the deity of fortune was looking down on you, Kim Chaewon stands a few meters in front of you wearing a shocked look on her face and a single slipper on her hand. It was probably what she was going to attack you with, had she not realized that it was you who had technically snuck into their backyard.

You smiled sheepishly at your startled girlfriend, "Surprise?" You barely finished speaking when Chaewon throws herself onto you, literally. You lost your balance and fell into the grass. Chaewon squeals into your ear and plants several kisses onto your face, and you laugh as she does so.

Chaewon pauses and holds your face for a good minute, staring at you as if she couldn't believe that you were right there with her. Then she engulfs you in a more gentle hug, and you wrap your arms around her waist, taking pleasure in the feeling of her loving embrace. Gods, you were about to cry again. It has been way too long since you were physically with Chaewon. You were almost willing to forget whatever plan you had and just cuddle with her for the rest of the night.

"I thought I told you to go home and sleep, you dummy!" Chaewon hits your shoulder, almost in tears herself. You raised yourself from the ground so that she was sitting on your lap, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Just her mere presence would have been enough for you, but now that she was right there, you didn't dare to not take advantage of the moment.

You hugged her closer than you ever have before, and you tilted your head to look into her beautiful eyes that never ceased to make you feel safe and appreciated, "I really love you, Chaewon." The pure sincerity on your voice was what really pushed Chaewon to let go of the restraints and let her tears fall free.

"I love you. I'm glad you're here." Chaewon slightly drips her head down to catch your lips with hers. It felt as if a collection of the world's biggest and most beautiful fireworks had set off inside your heart as you returned the affection. Chaewon always had that effect on you, she made every kiss feel like the first time and it just absolutely makes you swoon. The way she would carefully run her hand through your hair during it all made your heart go crazy.

You were never going to get tired of being in love with Kim Chaewon. Even if the two of you somehow ended up being on the opposite ends of the world, your hearts would always be together. Or something like that.

"This is probably a dumb question, but," Chaewon pulls away and smiles at you. Oh, yeah. Her smiles make your brain go haywire as well. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Your girlfriend asks.

"I'm taking you out on the best date you've ever had, baby," You said with a wide grin. (You never knew, but every time you showed her that stupidly cute smile, Chaewon falls for you even more.) Your face falls immediately a second after, however. "I-If that's okay. I mean, it is pretty late and you're exhausted."

Chaewon beams at you, and gosh you could just feel all her love through it, "I'd love to go on a date with you, (Y/N)," She then takes your face in her hands again, and her eyes immediately drop down to your lips that she has missed so very much. "But maybe after this."

Yeah, now that was a plan you could get behind.

#izone oneshots #izone scenarios #izone x reader #izone reactions #izone imagines #kim chaewon x reader #kim chaewon imagines #kim chaewon oneshots #kim chaewon scenarios #kim chaewon reactions #girl group oneshots #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group reactions

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technowoah · 3 years

Note

could you do 21 and 23 from the prompt list with george x gn! or fem!reader?

btw i adore your writing!! i love all your ideas and your imagines are so original ahhh i love them sm

So Cliché [3:41 am]

TYSM! OMG THAT MEANS A LOT TO ME🤚🏾😭

Also sorry this came out so late

I am guessing the prompts are from the fluff list, but if this isn't what you wanted I'll do it from the angst list!

21) "Are you up? Do you need me to stay up?"

23) "Pinki promise kiss"

⚠︎ swearing, fluffy stuff, i didn't proofread 😪

Your eyes adjusted to the dark bedroom you were in. The door was closed and the curtains were slightly opened letting in the slightest slither of light inside. The sun hasn't rose yet and your body felt heavy. You turned around under the warm covers of your bed and looked at the clock beside your bed that shined 3:41 am.

You groaned as you rotated around in bed until you found a comfortable way to lay down. Time seemed to be going slower when you woke up, the need to sleep flooded your mind but you just couldn't relax. Turning around again you faced your closed door that led to the hallway. The door always had to be at least cracked and not completely closed, but your roomate was making too much noise at an ungodly hour.

Living alone wasn't good for you at all, you didn't feel comfortable living alone. It was so quiet all the time and no one was around to entertain you or comfort you when things went bump in the night until your friend George suggested that you moved in with him. You always complained that you needed a roommate so he proposed the idea that you two moved in together to make you feel safe.

A few days from that conversation you packed your things and moved in with George. Slowly but surely you moved all of your things into George's place and he was always there to help. George had two bedrooms in his house and they were right next to eachother. You both woke up around the same time and went to bed at totally different times.

George and you always made breakfast together, sat around the house thinking of things to do and just end up sitting on the couch watching anything interesting he finds, doing chores and going out quickly to then inevitably end up back to the couch to do absolutely nothing. George always ended up sleeping while you two had this time together because he stayed up so late you dont know how he could sleep like a baby like that all the time. He ended up either laying on the armrest of the couch or on your shoulder. You always thought that was uncomfortable for him, but he always ended up there. The last couple times he ended up laying on your thighs which flustered you the first time, and the second, basically anytime he goes to lay on your lap you tense up.

You weren't afraid of physical touch, but this was new to you, you've grown accustomed to George and you think you a crush evolved from nothing. You two have been really close and it all started with a stupid Minecraft server. Ever since you moved in you two have grown closer than ever and your complicated feelings if you would want George as a boyfriend or not flooded your mind as we speak.

[4:01]

You still couldn't sleep and it was becoming a problem. You tossed and turned until you felt comfortable and began to count sheep, but you already got to 40 and didn't feel sleepy at all. Encasing yourself underneath your covers didn't help, it only made you hot. You were wide awake at this point. You had sat up and got out of your bed slipping on some fluffy socks and quitely opened the door and shuffled your way to the living room. You tried to stay quiet trying to keep George asleep as you turned on the TV.

Turning down the volume you sat there for a while underneath a blanket you and George had on the couch for times like this. You had a throw pillow underneath your head while you layed horizontal, across the couch. Two shows later and your eyes began to droop, it was a sense of accomplishment because you were finally sleeping so you stayed there still so you continue to lull yourself to sleep.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" George asked with tired eyes and gravelly voice. "Are you up? Do you need me to stay up?"

"Fuck you George. I was about to go to sleep. I kinda want you up with me." You complained as you pulled the blanket over your head with your eyes still closed.

"C'mon silly get in your bed. Were you here all night?" George said while leaning against a wall, clearly still tired.

"No. I couldn't sleep. Why are you here?" You asked, but your words mumbled together.

"I heard the TV." George pointed at the TV that was illuminating objects in the dark.

You hummed and he did as well. "Are you okay bub?"

You had a small smile on your face, you loved the small petnames he gave you. You had a small feeling that he didn't mean it in the romantic way you wanted it to be.

"I woke up and cant sleep now. I was almost asleep, but you came in so.." You said still drowsy from staying in the state of in-between being awake and sleep.

"Im sorry." George said with his head against the wall, eyes closed. "Mm sorry I'm tired." George wiped his face.

"Could you sleep with me?"

"What?" George asked laughing slightly.

"No not that, just sleep in the same bed." You said. Your brain was just working on his own. You wouldn't have said this if you were awake, but you were desperate and needed sleep. Also you were touch starved and your crush on George was becoming more apparent each day, but that wasnt the point now.

"Yeah I'll do that." George said while pushing himself off of the wall.

"What?" You said thinking he would reject the offer.

"You sound like me. Come on." George said making his way over to you and reaching his arms out. You sat up looking at him with half open eyes and ended up grabbing both of his hands to pull yourself up.

Once both of you were on your feet you both lazily made your way to your bedroom. You mad yourself comfortable under the covers while George sat ontop, restricting the cover's movements.

"You're ontop of the blankets, it's weird." You mumbled.

"Sorry, sorry. Um, what would you want me to do?" George asked as he got off of the bed and stood there awaiting for an answer.

Your back was facing towards him when you answered. "Come on under the covers, I dont bite." You faced towards him when you said that.

He smiled a bit and then got under the covers with you, he layed on his back facing the ceiling and his hands on his stomach. He was uncomfortable.

You turnedon your side facing George. "Are you uncomfortable? If you want you can leav-"

"No! No. Im just- Ive never done this before you know. I've never comforted anyone like this." George quickly said.

"Like cuddled anyone?"

"Like cuddle, yeah."

A silence fell upon you two until George laid on his side facing you. His face was close to yours and you tried not to freak out right in front of him. He reached his hand across your body and started to rub your back. You shuffled your body a little so that your heads weren't at the same level, you were level with his chest and you got closer leaning your forehead against his chest. You both got more comfortable and got closer in touch, he soothingly rubbed your back trying to lull you to sleep.

It was a while that you both layed like this, basking in eachothers comfort

"I wish I could sing like Wilbur. That would make this moment better." George whispered against your hair.

"You being here makes this moment already great though." You whispered as well hoping he could hear you.

"Really?"

"Really. I mean it. I love this." You pulled him close.

"I love 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ."

"I love you too."

You smiled with your eyes closed. "Promise you love me?"

"Pinki promise I love you." George lazily locked both of your little fingers together.

"Pinki promise kiss." You puckered your lips hoping he would get the hint.

You heard George chuckle and he softly pecked you lips, it was like he was testing the waters. You opened your eyes and he had a small tired smile on his face, the two of you ended up giggling like little kids and then going back into the calming state you both were in.

Thank God for you both being in that state of tiredness. You just hoped that you both remembered what happend at [4:32 am] when you both wake up.

EXTRA:

You were alone in the kitchen this morning making pancakes. George hasnt met up with you yet and you questioned why. Yes you remembered last night and you're glad that you finally had the courage to say that you loved him, but it wasn't how you pictured it happening.

You flipped your pancake as George came put from around the corner looking fresher and more awake than last night. He smiled at you and made his way over to you. He closely stood by you and reached over your head to grab a glass from above. He only stepped that closely to you to grab a glass.

You begun to think that he forgot about last night's kiss. He had filled his glass with ice and then with water he stood over by the refrigerator for a while until he walked over to you.

You had just finished the second pancake of the day and faced George who was stood beside you waiting for your attention. He smiled at you and slowly leaned down and gave you a kiss on your lips. It was slow and longing, like he wanted to do this for quite a while. One of his hands found the side of your face and the other one pulled you closer by your waist. He then pulled away having a big smile on his face, you matched his smile clearly glad that he did that and remember.

"This is so cliché you know that right?" You laughed.

George rolled his eyes playfully. "Exactly, I feel like I've read this somewhere before."

"Like on Wattpad?" You jokingly asked.

"Yeah I read a bunch of DreamNotFound fanfiction on there." George said as he swayed you back and forth along with him.

"Hey~!"

"I'm just kidding! And I pinki promised didnt I?" George rose his eyebrows.

"You did! You did!" You smiled at him and he matched your smile again.

"I love you." George said.

"I love you too." You replied.

"I could get used to this!"

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

_______________

You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

#jake debrusk #jake debrusk imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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softlilacmoonlight · 3 years

Text

Lucifer x Reader - Need You

In personal chat

Lucifer: (Y/N), are you awake?

(Y/N): Yeah, Mammon barged in here not that long ago and woke me up. Why?

Lucifer: Since you are conveniently awake, come to my room the minute you get this message. Understood?

(Y/N): Lucifer, what is this about?

(Y/N): Lucifer? Ugh, fine I'm coming.

Third-person pov:

After your mysterious conversation with Lucifer, you turn off your DDD and stumble out of your bed. The minute the cold air hits your skin, goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. You can't help but be slightly annoyed with the request, more like the demand, of the eldest sibling. Deciding that you weren't getting any warmer wishing you were in bed, you start to make your way towards the eldest's room.

Slowly as you make your way through the corridors of the old house, the dark wood doors leading into Lucifer's room appear in front of you. After a deep inhale, you place two gentle knocks on the door. What happened next came as a surprise to you. You were expecting a "come in," or "the door's open (Y/N)!" Never in your wildest imagination did it ever cross your mind that this would happen.

Suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever, the door is yanked open with enough force that your hair moves forward with the door's airflow. Before you can even process anything else, you're grabbed by the hand and pulled into a pair of arms as the door closes, just as quickly as it opened.

(Y/N) pov:

I'm quickly greeted with the smooth feeling of a satin dress shirt and overcoat buttons against my skin. I can smell the very subtle aroma of mint and musk. The vibrations of his heartbeat through the shirt are fast. His shoulders are trembling, and every breath is rushed... scared.

"Lucifer?" I ask.

He just pulls me tighter, and that's when I feel it. The wetness seeping through my hair and onto my scalp. It's cool and the liquid slowly drips its way down onto my neck. Worry slowly creeps up onto me. My back shivers in anticipation of whatever bad thing could have happened and my gut fills with a sense of dread. Before I can even say anything else, a warm coat is draped over my shoulders.

Lucifer's smooth voice trembles as he talks. "Many pardons (Y/N). I pulled you out of your warm bed at this ungodly hour, not that anything down here is godly. I could feel you shiver, so you must be cold out of your blankets. You, humans, are so delicate. I apologize for asking you to come and have to put up with this wash-up of a man."

Wash up! I quickly plant my hands against his chest and push him away from me. Now that I have a full view, I can clearly access the whole situation. The red-rimmed eyes, trembling shoulders, messed-up hair, undone clothes, and the terrified look on Lucifer's face show no indication of his usually calm and composed self.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry. You obviously don't wish to be here with me. You may leave, and return the coat as soon as possible. Many pardons for bothering you." he whispers.

Lucifer's pov:

Her face slacks with shock as I turn her away. What was I thinking? Did I seriously think that she could help, no love, me even when I'm a mess? No, she probably only likes me when composed. I'm too ugly when I'm a mess.

"Lucifer, what makes you think that I don't want to be here?" her gentle voice asks.

Does she not even understand her own actions? "(Y/N), you pushed me away, so that leaves the conclusion that you do not wish to be here. You may leave, I'm not keeping you here."

I turn around so that I can avoid the pity in her gaze. I don't need any pity, and I was stupid to want help. I'm the Avatar of Pride, and I don't need help. Do I?

Suddenly, two arms wrap around my waist and pull me back. My whole back feels warm, (Y/N)'s body heat warming me up. They grip their hands behind my back so tightly that I know, I'm not escaping this hug anytime soon.

"Lucifer. Listen. Here. Now." she whispers, calm and low. "You are not a wash-up of a man."

I let out a harsh laugh as she comes around to meet my eyes. "I-"

"Absolutely not! Not one more word out of you!" she says sternly. "You're a very smart, hardworking, talented, and handsome man! You are anything but a wash-up!"

Tears well up and gloss over my eyes. "Handsome? You really think that?"

It's rare to see (Y/N) blush, but right now she's the most beautiful thing alive. Her blush has spread, and now it covers her beautiful and full cheeks and her cute little nose. Her hair frames her blushing face, and slowly her beautiful eyes look up and meet mine.

(Y/N)'s pov:

Looking up, I meet Lucifer's glossy ruby eyes. From the moment I first saw them, oh how they captivated me in their depths of wine red. There's a noticeable pain in my chest at the sight of them coated in tears.

He's too afraid to take the first step. "Lucifer... I love you."

Lucifer's eyes widen as he just stares at me. His mouth is even comically hanging open, and for once he's letting me see his cute side. I take in everything once more and even when he's a mess, he's the most handsome being I've ever laid eyes on.

"Lucifer," I whisper. "Even as a fallen angel, you deserve the title Morning Star. You're perfection in a person. Your appearance is always perfect, along with your behavior, and social image. Sure you slip and have a hard time with your brothers and you could learn to be a little more lenient with them, but you are still an amazing brother. They are all very lucky to have you as the eldest. Now, I'll leave you be, because I'm a hundred percent certain that you could use some sleep. Goodnight, Lucifer."

Turning, I head towards the door. Before I even take a step, I feel Lucifer pick me up and lay right down on the bed with me. He pulls me close and lays his head on my chest, snuggling in and positioning himself until he is satisfied.

Suddenly, I hear his gentle whisper. "My love, please stay."

I feel my heart swell with love. "Anything for you, my dear."

"Mmm. I don't want to be your Morning Star. Those days are long gone. Will you give me a different nickname? Please, my goddess?" He asks. I can feel my entire face heat up from his tired and gentle praise.

"Lucifer, my Evening Light. How about that?"

"Perfect, just like you. I promise you, my goddess. I can't wait to spend eternity with you..." and with that, he falls off to dreamland, and soon after I join him.

In the morning:

I can feel a gentle pressure on me and without thinking, I grab Lucifer's hair and pull him back down next to me. The tension quickly leaves his body as he lays back down by me. Gently, I run my hands through his hair.

"Goddess, I have to get ready for work," he whispers, his voice a deep growl. I could get used to his morning voice.

Except, he's not going to work. "No."

"Love-" he starts.

Raising an eyebrow, I caress his cheek. "Don't make me call Lord Diavolo for you. You know that he's been trying to get you to take off some time for quite a while now."

Suddenly a sound pierces the silence. "SSSCCCCRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

Lucifer and I look to each other in question. "Was it just me..." I started.

"Or did that sound like Levi?" Lucifer finishes.

Rushing out of bed, still, in our pj's, we run to the source of the screaming. All of the brothers are outside of the kitchen, except for Levi and Satan being inside the kitchen. The others turn to us in shock when they see us running up in our pj's-. Thankfully, Lucifer had the foresight to throw a shirt on himself. He also threw one of his shirts over my shirt and his only explanation was "mine."

"What is going on here!" exclaims Lucifer.

I run over and start to check all of them for any injuries, Levi and Satan specifically. "Are you both alright? Anything broken? No one impaled? Did any of you burn yourselves?" I ask, fretting over them like a mother hen.

"No, the Great Mammon had everything covered. Being the amazing person I am, I quickly made the smart decision to stop everyone else from entering the kitchen," explains Mammon.

Belphie rolls his eyes high enough to touch the ceiling. "I'm surprised you even managed to form a complete sentence Mammon. I thought you didn't have the brain cells to do so."

"What'da ya mean by that!" yells Mammon.

I feel Lucifer hug me from behind. "You know what, I don't even want to know. I think I'll ask Barbatos to discipline them, and then we should escape to anywhere you wish to go after I ask for a leave. What do you think about that?" he whispers.

"Mhm, sounds lovely. I've always wanted to see more of the Devildom. Somewhere warm, with history, and just the two of us." I respond.

Quietly, the two of us sneak away while the others are arguing about what happened, and quickly pack our bags. Even as we sneak out of the front door, we can still hear them arguing inside the House of Lamentations. Heck! We're still in our pj's!

Bonus:

"Hey!" hollers Beel above the noise of all of the fighting. "Where's (Y/N) and Lucifer!"

All of the brothers quickly look around, and upon not seeing the duo start to get incredibly worried. It's highly unlike Lucifer to not serve a strict punishment, yet he hadn't even asked what happened. A frantic search is quickly underway to find the two, but they were nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, the front doors are whisked open. Looking at the front, the six brothers quickly rush to the door only to be greeted by Barbatos. He walks into the house with a slightly sinister smile on his face. "I sure hope you intend on fixing the kitchen because for the next week I'll be in charge. By the time I'm through, you'll be begging for Lucifer and (Y/N)'s return."

The End

#obey me lucifer #lucifer #om writing #om #obey me #fluff #luci #mc

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

Be Careful

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: You patch up an injured Captain after he comes back from a rather rough mission late at night.

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, soft steve, cocky steve :)

A/N: this was one of my older oneshots...so it sucks

"Thor, it's 3 in the morning. Why are you trying to cook Pop-Tarts in the toaster at this ungodly hour?"

"My apologies, Lady Y/N. I did not mean to wake you," the Norse god gave you an innocent smile. "I heard toaster Pop-Tarts are quite delicious, so I decided to try my hand at making some myself."

"No no, it's fine," you waved him off, "I've been awake for a while, anyways. You can just carry on if you want, but try not to blow anything up, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You'd been waiting for Steve to return from his solo mission, and currently, you, Thor, and Sam were the only ones awake in the compound. Not wanting to fall asleep without knowing if he was alright and returned in one piece, you were planning to stay up for as long as necessary. Fatigue was tugging at your eyes for a while now, but you couldn't care less. You'd handled worse things than sleep deprivation.

Just as the Pop-Tarts finished cooking and Thor took them to his room to eat as he watched Gossip Girl by himself on his MacBook, you decided to watch TV to fill the silence that had settled in around the lounge.

Around half an hour later you heard the elevator doors slide open, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve Rogers. His face was streaked with dust and debris, dried blood sticking to his dirty-blonde hair and a tired look in his icy-blue eyes, but you still thought he looked perfect regardless.

"Hey," you greeted him as he stepped forward, setting his duffel bag off to the side.

"I made it," he exhaled, "it was a bit of a pain trying to escape, but other than that, it ran pretty smoothly."

"That's good," you nodded. He inhaled deeply as he sat down at the edge of the couch.

It was only until you looked down and saw he was clutching his side that you realized he'd been severely injured.

"Shit shit shit shit, Rogers, what the hell happened," you muttered frantically as you tried to pull him into a more upright position to examine his wound. "Who hurt you?"

"HYDRA. And language," he croaked out, laughing lightly before being overcome by a coughing fit, wincing in pain. "Ow, that hurt. But I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine!" you whisper-shouted. Blood was seeping through his uniform and gushing out of his wound at an alarming pace. "You think you can stand and walk for a bit? I need to get you down to the lab to treat your wound. Bruce is asleep so I can't get him."

"Maybe?"

You let out a sigh of disbelief, slinging an arm across his shoulders and helping him down the hall to the lab, sitting him down in a chair you pulled up next to the examination table. You quickly grabbed all the necessary medical supplies and set them down next to him.

Steve took his hand off his stomach and you tried not to faint at the sight of it coming away covered in blood, making bile rise up in your throat.

"That bad, huh," he joked, but grimaced when he tried to move slightly.

"Stop moving!" you scolded as you came forward, "you're gonna make it worse if you do! I need to take the bullet out, so don't move."

"I'm fine," he reassured you.

"No, you're not. Now shut up and stay still."

"What's with the hesitation?"

"Um...you need to...remove your suit..." you spluttered.

A smirk came across Steve's face. "Sure."

"Not here!" you raised your voice. "You know what...just...take off the top...part..so I can get to your wound easily..."

"If you wanted a piece of this, you could've just asked," he grinned cheekily.

"Shut up!" you squeaked. "Just...take it off."

You sucked in a breath as he slid the top part of his suit off, revealing his toned shoulders and torso.

"I'm sorry for making you all flustered."

"Shut! Up!" you whisper-shouted as you began to treat his wound, flinching at the spark you felt running up your body when your skin came in contact with his during the process. "I'm not flustered!"

You almost cringed as he hissed in pain when the metal tweezers came in contact with his skin, trying to keep your fingers from shaking as you removed the bullet. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, this'll only take another minute..."

Letting out a breath of relief you didn't know you'd been holding inside, you dropped the bullet onto a tray off to your side and wiped your hands before grabbing the thick roll of bandages to wrap up his wound.

"There," you dusted off your hands, "it's over. I'm gonna clean up your face now, and then you're going to not overwork yourself by not sparring four hours a day for the next week."

"Y/N..."

"Listen to me, Steve. You aren't gonna get better if you keep overworking yourself, so you're gonna do as I say and rest."

"Aye aye, Captain," he mock saluted you.

"Now," you sighed, "if you aren't tired, I can go make us some coffee if you want."

"That sounds nice," the super-soldier agreed.

"Try standing up on your own now," you said, "if you can't I'll help you over there."

"Y/N, I'm fine," he reassured you as he gripped the edge of the table and stood up, "see? Stop worrying. I can handle myself perfectly well."

You sighed again. "Alright, fine. Let's go, then. Get changed first, then meet me in the lounge once you're done."

You headed to the kitchen and as he sat down at the couch, now changed into a soft white T-shirt and grey sweats, you plugged in the coffee maker and got out the pods from the pantry. Hopefully, Tony wouldn't mind you using a few of them.

God, you really needed to stop staring at him so much.

But it's not my fault he wears tight shirts all the time! another voice yelled back inside your head.

"You okay, Y/N? You look kinda pale," Steve commented as he looked back to see your now-pale face.

"Yes, what, huh?" you blinked several times, shaking your head and snapping out of your momentary daze. "Yeah, I'm okay. You want your coffee black, or with milk?"

"Black," he replied simply, rubbing his forehead and yawning, stretching his arms up in the air.

You poured the coffee into two separate mugs once they were ready, putting milk in one and handing one over to Steve before taking a seat next to him on the sofa. "Now, will you tell me how the hell you got hit? I should know that, at least."

"Caught in the crossfire," Steve replied simply. "Got unlucky, and took a hit, right as I was getting the data files downloaded."

"Sounds like a repeat of Montpellier," you raised an eyebrow at him in suspicion, "except that time, it was me."

"Trouble always seems to find us, huh," he hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

"When I was the one to get hit, I knew what I was getting myself into. I jumped in front of Peter to take a bullet meant for him. You, on the other hand, decided to just jump into the fight without looking at the possible outcomes."

"Wow, sounds like you actually care about the great Captain," he smirked. "Thought you had no heart."

"You're funny. I'm not completely heartless, you know. I care about people."

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," you heard someone clap slowly from behind you and when you turned around, there stood a rather smug-looking Pietro. "Heartless warrior and Cap finally getting some action. Nice."

"Since when were you awake? I thought you were sleeping," you were now confused.

"I was playing against Sam in Mario Kart this entire time. I think that's a solid enough reason to stay up," the speedster explained. "Steve, when'd you get back?"

"Fifteen minutes ago."

"You didn't die?"

"I'm here right now, so no."

"Oh, Y/N, when you were patching him up did you get to see his abs? He's totally ripped, you know, I hope you didn't get too carried away staring—"

"Pietro!" you snapped, cheeks going bright red, much to his amusement. "Really?"

"What? I'm curious!"

"I had no choice but to see!"

"You make it sound like you didn't enjoy it."

Steve chuckled as your cheeks grew an even deeper shade of scarlet. You groaned loudly, gulping down your coffee in just three more large gulps to save yourself from having to reply to his comment.

“Okay, Speedy, I’ve had it with your comments, now shoo,” you waved a hand at him. “Go to bed.”

“Need I remind you I’m no longer a teenager and I don’t have a bedtime,” he scoffed before walking away. “Also, ship it!”

You sighed and let your head fall into your hands.

After several more minutes of the strained silence, Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks for fixing me up back there. I would’ve bled out if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s not reassuring at all,” you mumbled into your hands.

He chuckled again. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to get shot next time.”

You lifted your head to glance up at him. “You said that when Fury sent us on that mission to Montenegro and I had to drag you back to the jet because you got shot, twice. And I did it with a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and a severely sprained ankle. Wanda brought me breakfast in bed for four days after that.”

“You’re making me sound a lot heavier than I really am.”

“Yeah, you outweigh me by sixty pounds at least. Of course you’re gonna feel heavy to me.”

“I thought you could bench press 300? That’s over twice your weight.”

“That’s not an actual human being.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that someone like you who’s so light can lift so much.”

“I’m lightweight?”

“Compared to 300, or in my case, 180, then yes. But hey, most of that’s muscle,” he winked at you, rolling his sleeve up slightly and flexing his bicep. “So how’s the view, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes. “Showoff.”

“You love me.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Seriously, though...” Steve’s voice softened, as did his gaze on you, “thank you.”

“...For?”

“For staying up late to wait for me, even though you don’t like doing so. It’s nice to have someone to look forward to when I’m coming back home.”

“I never said I didn’t like staying up.”

“Y/N, I know you like the back of my hand,” the corners of his mouth turned up in a small grin, “I’m pretty sure I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Bet. What’s my favorite color?”

“That’s easy. It’s blue. But like you consistently remind everyone who asks, it’s not just plain blue. It’s the blue only found in the deepest corners of the ocean that are furthest from the shore. You had the highlights of your suit changed from grey to this shade, after Fury forced us on that vacation to Sicily and you refused to leave the beach because you’d fallen so in love with gazing at the horizon. When we returned, Clint kept teasing us because it looked like we were trying to coordinate our stealth suits with one another.”

You were shocked and taken aback, not expecting for him to memorize what you’d told him word for word. “Okay...what’s my biggest fear?”

“Failure. Failing to protect those you love, failing to succeed in your job as an Avenger,” he said softly, “Ever since Phil gave word of your parents’ passing four years ago, you grew extremely overprotective over what family you had left, which happened to be the team. You refused to let your mission partners out of your sight and if they did, forced them to stay on call at all times. You couldn’t afford to have whatever happened to your parents happen to your teammates, because bearing that burden would be too much for you to handle.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “Yeah...um. What was my job before joining the initiative, and what made me join the team in the first place?”

“A brilliant student, you graduated two years early to become a trauma surgeon for the next four years. At first, you were reluctant to accept Fury’s offer because you’d dedicated your life saving people instead of doing the opposite. Violence was the very last thing on your mind so the Battle of New York was rather difficult for you to cope with after it ended. Continuing to be able to save people in your new line of work and seeing thousands more look up to you was what pushed you to keep going; you didn’t want to let them all down.

He laughed to himself, recalling the memory. “I didn’t expect you to be so relentless on the battlefield. You never told any of us you were also training under SHIELD at the same time you were going through med school, so Nat and I were blown away when we saw you fight. I’m pretty sure Clint fainted when he saw you shoot out electricity bolts. Thor was insistent on seeing if you could lift Mjolnir afterwards.”

“I offered to be SHIELD’s lab rat because nobody else was willing to step up, so here I am,” you chuckled lightly, “those powers ended up coming in handy in the operating room sometimes...during emergency surgeries.”

“You’re amazing,” Steve exhaled. “I can see why so many people look up to you as a role model.”

You laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not that special.”

“You are. You’ve impacted millions of lives, Y/N. The world owes you a debt.”

“You know me so well, Captain. I’m surprised you remember the little details...Tony sometimes forgets my birthday and here you are, listing off every little thing easily.”

“I’m just observant, that’s all...” he hummed, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“If you answer this question right, then you’ve won it all,” you challenged. “What’s my opinion on finding love?”

“You always claim to be opposed to falling in love, but I know you better than that,” he explained. “You’ve only started showing the signs of being in love a few months ago, but your heart was stolen many years prior by one man.”

Was it just you, or did Steve look almost...hurt as he spoke?

“Who’s that one man?”

“You’re asking me?” he raised an eyebrow at you, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position that wouldn’t put too much pressure on his abdomen. “How would I know that?”

“Because you know me better than anyone else in the compound,” you stated.

“Why don’t you describe him for me, then.”

“For starters, he’s extremely loyal. Always sticks by your side and will stay loyal to you until the very end of his days.”

“Sam?”

“No. I’m not finished,” you held up a finger to interrupt him. “He’s a great leader and the slightest bit cocky, but he’s got a great sense of humor and at the same time, he can be very serious. He always knows how to make you feel better even when you’re in the worst mood, and gives the best hugs known to man. My favorite color isn’t just because of the ocean, but his eyes...I think that’s what made me start loving blue in the first place.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately shut your mouth, realizing you’d gone off on a mini tangent. Steve didn’t look all that surprised, but rather amused.

“You’re in love with me?” A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Rogers,” you muttered.

“If you’re in love with me, then that’s good because I’m in love with you too.”

Now it was time to be taken aback a second time. “W-what?”

“You heard me right.”

“I think the medication I gave you is making you a bit too loopy.”

“I’m being honest. This is the real me talking here, Y/N.”

A red light going off in the corner of the ceiling made you both look up and groan.

“Well done for finally fessing up, kiddies?" Tony’s smug voice came over the intercom. “When’s the wedding?”

You flipped off the camera before standing up and walking away. Steve just shook his head and chuckled.

283 notes · View notes

astralhugs · 4 years

Text

RFA with an MC who doesn’t sleep because she’s on her phone too much

There are two types of people in this world, one who goes on their gadgets too much and the other, liars.

Enjoy~! Sorry I didn’t post last week D:

requests open~

YOOSUNG

* okay aside his gaming addiction, this boy rarely goes on social media.

* Probably has a facebook account just to login to LOLOL easier or sumn.

* Would usually use his phone for cooking recipes and lolol

* But you were the opposite

* You were on the phone 24/7.

* When he’s asleep, you’re on your phone.

* You’re at a theatre with him? You’re on your phone.

* At first he was just doing some positive thinking like, “Oh, maybe she has work or something.”

* But then when you guys went to bed a bit late, you promise you’d go to bed right away.

* Woo its 3AM and you’re up.

* On your phone

* And guess who caught you.

* Dearest Kim Yoosung.

* “Mc, sleep. Going on your phone too much will damage your eyes.” he worriedly said.

* You pout but then he gave you those darn puppy eyes and you cant say no?????

* In the end you gave up and slept

* It honestly felt good.

* Yoosung tells you about how he feels like he’s being ignored whenever you’re on your phone too long.

* “I’m not saying to not go on your phone, but um...its not good to go on it too long, you know?” he says.

BONUS :

* To my lovely readers who are students, Yoosung has something to say to you~ (will be doing this for the whole RFA mwah)

* “Hiii!! Its Yoosung~~ I love you so much but please don’t go on your phone too much! You should study hard but also take breaks, not only study breaks but breaks from your phone as well, I’m a student as well so I get you TT, if you go on your phone less I’ll kiss you~ hehe, i love you stay safe~”

ZEN

* FIRST OF ALL

* HES JEALOUS OF THE PHONE RIGHT NOW

* SECOND

* He never really realized because of practice and stuff until he saw that you were up???

* Watching netflix???

* On your phone???

* WHYS THE BRIGHTNESS SO HIGH OMG THE RADIATION

* “MC.” he grabs the phone gently, surprisingly you didn’t say anything to him. He then realized you were asleep.

* He was wondering how long you’ve been doing this.

* The next day he’d definitely ask you about it though.

* You’d explain your reason and stuff.

* “I understand but staying up until 3AM? Babe, do you know how bad the radiation from your phone is to your face?” he asks.

* Would try to make you go to sleep early with him.

* ‘No phone hour’ is set one hour before you both go to sleep.

* You both would just chat and have fun like maybe doing facemasks together and doing each others hair and such.

* Loves the attention he’s getting from you whenever you’re not on your phone.

BONUS :

* “Hey babe! Is it very late at your place? If yes then WHY ARE YOU STILL UP? LIKE I SAID ABOVE, DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD RADIATION IS FOR YOUR SKIN????? If its morning and you’re still in bed, get up and do some exercises! I would do some with you but I have practice, you know lying in bed all day isn’t healthy so you should try doing some stretches to keep your body healthy during all of this pandemic thing. I hope you take care, see you soon, love you, mwah<3”

JAEHEE

* Stays up till 3AM

* Doesnt really mind

* She got coffee for both of you.

* You’re answering guest emails (secretly watching netflix oop) while she’s doing all of Jumin’s piled up work.

* Zen’s at the back frustrated about how both of yall aren’t getting sleep.

* But on Fridays, Jaehee and you would try to stay away from gadgets for at least an hour before bed.

* “MC, its almost 2 we should head to bed soon.”

* Its either her who reminds you about the time or the other way around.

* Yall got each others back its no problem lol

* But fr yall both seriously need sleep

* Who am I kidding its 11.42PM rn

* In the morning, she’d prepare coffee for both of you so yall good.

BONUS :

* “Hello MC, I hope you’re having a lovely day, I know that you‘re having trouble going to sleep and honestly, I can say the same, with all the piled work Mr. Han gave me, I’m suprised I’ve even gotten at least 3 hours of sleep, but please don’t be like me. Sleep is important, I’ll sleep right after you sleep, promise! Take care!”

JUMIN

* Its either he sleeps early as fuck or he doesnt sleep at all.

* Ya know being director of C&R tingz

* Anyways he sees that you’re still awake

* ‘I thought she finished replying to guests the other day?’ he thought to himself before entering her office

* Yes you have your own office in Jumin’s place, we been knew.

* “Darling, its almost 1AM why are you not asleep?” he asks worriedly.

* Well you explain it and if it was a stupid reason like about a series then he isn’t having any of your bullshit and takes you with him to bed.

* If it’s reasonable he’d understand but wouldn’t recommend you staying up at ungodly hours.

* Sometimes would see you popping up in chatrooms and he’s like??? tf???

* Would recommend you to see a doctor to see if there were any problems as to why you weren’t sleeping well.

* Would stay by your side when you’re in bed and is asleep.

* In the end, he’d definitely recommend you not to go on your phone half an hour before going to bed so thats that.

* TURNS ON SCREEN LIMIT ON YOUR PHONE.

BONUS :

* My love, is it late there? If it is, please get some sleep soon. I wish I could cuddle with you right now and help you go to sleep but I’m out of country. I hope the body guards are keeping you safe and I hope you’re staying indoors. My love, please wait for me, I love you.”

SEVEN

* OKAY

* FIRST OF ALL

* saeyoung ilysm

* BUT HE HAS NO RIGHT TO SCOLD YOU HERE

* HE’S NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A SAY IN THIS

* MAN STAYS UP AT UNGODLY HOURS ALL THE TIME

* AND EATS AND BREATHES CHIPS AND PHD PEPPER

* HE IS NOT ALLOWED TO SCOLD YOU, ITS SUPPOSED TO BE THE OTHER WAY AROUND

* nah he’d still scold you though.

* He doesn’t care if he stays up for 287373 hours

* But you????

* No.

* Its bed o’clock MC time for bed.

* Has robocat set up to put you to sleep.

* Like it would remind you to go to bed and once you’re in bed it would play some soft music.

* Sometimes, it would also play Seven talking like ASMR.

* If robocat sees you on your phone it would send a notif to Seven immediately so thats that.

* I still think hes not allowed to have a say in this.

* But wbk seven loves mc more than he loves himself :(

BONUS

* “drum roll!!!! ITS ME! Your lovely 707! MC! Why are you not asleep? I know, coming from me it sounds stupid but you should be sleeping because its not good for your health! I wish I could cuddle you some more but I’m on a mission right now! But don’t worry~! I’ll go back soon and we’ll cuddle alot! Stay safe and I love you!!”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! If you guys like this, I’ll try post V’s, Saeran’s and Vanderwoods :)

Requests are open please send some~!

Have a great week <3

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cha-lyn · 4 years

Text

Milk & Eggs - Thirteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 2434

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: fluff and some angst. tiny baby farm life.

A/N: It’s been a minute..... 🙃 thanks for sticking around guys.. As always I love the feedback/likes/reblogs 💛 i have the next the next two chapters done so it won’t be another 6 months lol

Master List // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

---

The next morning you wake up naked and alone, much to your disappointment. You shiver and pull the single sheet around you. You inhale his smell as you nuzzle into the pillow. On Bucky’s pillow is a sticky note.

Choring. Be back soon.

You grin, curling up further and deciding to wait for your man in the warm bed instead of venturing out into the cold. Of course, you fall back into a light sleep, the shifting of the bed stirring you awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” Bucky smiled down at you, pieces of his hair falling down around his face.

“Join me,” you yawn, lifting the sheet and waving him in.

Bucky shakes his head. “If I get in there who will eat the huge breakfast I just made?” He kisses your forehead and gets up going to his chest of drawers. He tosses you a blue long sleeve t-shirt and starts back downstairs. “Hurry up, it’s gettin’ cold.”

Bucky had indeed prepared a feast. Bacon, pancakes for him, waffles for you, orange juice, hash browns and scrambled eggs. You sit down across from a grinning Bucky, crossing your bare legs, wearing only his t-shirt and your panties.

“That shirt looks good on you.”

You grab a piece of bacon and grin. “I agree. You might just never see it again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Oh, I almost forgot, the livestock fair is next weekend. You still wanna go with me?” You nod, mouth already full of waffle. Bucky grins, stuffing his face, too.

As you rinsed the last glass, Bucky traps you in his arms, “Do you have to go bake now?” He sounded pitiful.

“I have a few minutes before I have to leave… Why what were you wanting to do?” You couldn’t suppress your smirk. Bucky’s rough hands slip under his own soft t-shirt. “Stop teasing,” you whine.

He scoffs, “You’re the one the that’s teasing. Skippin’ around my house in nothin’ but my t-shirt. Not even any pants on,” his lips brushing your ear, making you shiver.

You turn to face him, “Well. What do you want to do about it Buck?”

He snaps your hips towards him, “Just take you back upstairs. Ya know.. Help you change outta this.”

“Yes, that does sound like a two person job. What are you waiting for then?”

Bucky wasted no time dropping his hands to your thighs to pick you up and carry you straight back to his bedroom, giggling and kissing the whole way up.

The next week went by fast. You were busy at the bakery and Bucky was busy training the already hired Sam at the ranch. There had been some logistical issues--Sam accepted the job, but was struggling to find a place to live. You talked Bucky into letting Sam stay at his house while he looked. The pros of that were that Sam is absolutely hilarious and a great cook. The con was that you didn’t get to walk around with no pants on anymore.

Friday rolled around and as you rolled out fondant at the shop, the front bell rang. You peek around the corner, eyes falling on a gorgeous man covered in dirt.

“Hey slick.”

“Hey stranger.”

“Stranger? You saw me this morning.” Bucky leaned on the counter.

You leaned in to meet him, giving him a kiss, smelling the faint smells of dirt, sweat and coffee. “Was that this morning? Feels like days ago.”

“We didn’t get much sleep last night. Which is why,” out of nowhere a coffee cup appears, “I thought I’d stop by and bring you some caffeine.” Your face almost broke from smiling so hard. “And to remind you that we have to leave at 7am tomorrow.”

Your face fell and your eyes narrowed.

“You don't have to go, doll, really,” he reasoned. “It’s just a bunch of stinky animals.”

“Ugh, no I want to, I just want to go later,” you whine as you put a bear claw in a bag for him.

Bucky laughed as he stood to leave. “Sorry, no can do. We will stop for coffee on the way, though, promise. Bring your chorin’ boots when you come tonight, auctions tend to be muddy places.”

“Look at you assuming I’m coming over tonight.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Damn, lack of sleep makes you sassy. Don’t worry, I'll sleep on the couch-- let you get plenty of sleep tonight to make up for the last.” You scoff at him as he wiggles his eyes, hand already in the togo bag. “Thank you! See you tonight,” he leaves with a wink.

Bucky has you up at 6:30 am the next morning. You're dressed and upright, but not really awake. Sam was up, cracking jokes at the ungodly hour and trying to break your scowl as he flipped pancakes and scrambled his eggs. You and Bucky don’t actually leave until 7:08 because of your sluggish ass. (You’d forgotten where you left your boots and then misplaced your rain jacket. Miraculously, Bucky fought the scowl threatening to invade his face because you’re fuckin’ cute when you’ve just woke up.) Despite your moody slowness, Bucky kindly lets you sleep most of the way, waking you up when you're one town away.

“Hey wake up doll,” he reaches over, gently rubbing your shoulder. “C’mon, wake up. We’re close.” As you rub the sleep out of your eyes, Bucky pulls into the drive through of the only Starbucks in a hundred mile area. “You want your usual?”

You nod, “And an extra shot please.”

Bucky chuckles, ordering your drink perfectly, “I’ve never seen someone sleep so soundly on the road.”

You smile, “I trained myself to sleep in almost every car ride. I used to get really car sick as a kid. Road trips sucked, so I just slept through it. Still do.”

Bucky smiles, handing you a hot coffee and immediately sipping his. “So, the game plan for today is to buy three goats--one billy and two does.”

“Mmm and a dog.” Bucky raises his eyebrows as he merges back onto the interstate. “You said you might get one to help the herd or something.”

“Yeah, but now I have Sam to help with that.”

You roll your eyes. “If you get a dog maybe I’ll come over more,” you joke.

Bucky laughed, “You’re over all the time, slick. You come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.”

You choked on your sip, hot coffee burning your nose. Bucky’s eyes cut your way, watching you pick at your fingers.

“Uh… That was a joke…” he says unconvincingly.

You cough out a laugh, just as unconvincing. “Oh good. ‘Cause we barely know each other…”

“What do you mean?”

You blink at him, “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other Buck. Like a lot.”

“What better way to get to know each other than living together? Hypothetically,” Bucky shrugged.

You looked at him incredulously. “Whoa. Bucky. We are nowhere near that step,” you scoff.

“I’m just saying hypothetically, but whatever. We’re almost there. To the auction… not where ever you say we aren’t,” he said, voice clipped as he stared straight ahead.

You sense the shift in the truck. You’re not sure how to recover from this, but you don’t have to just yet.

Minutes later, you see a field full of pickups and trailers and behind them, tents and pens and more farm animals in one place than you’d ever seen. Bucky pulls into the field, driving the aisles until he finds a spot.

He turns off the engine. Sighing as he takes off his ball cap, running his hand through his hair and replacing the hat. “Ready?” He shoots you a half smile.

You nod returning it as best you can, “Let’s go find some goats.” But no fuckin’ dogs, you scold yourself mentally.

Turns out you love livestock auctions. Bucky loves them more, of course. He’s giddy at the sight of the first four-legged creature he sees. The awkwardness is forgotten quickly and soon it’s all smiles and rows of baby goats. One in particular that caught your eye.

“He was so cute though! I think you should get him.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve said that about all of them, slick. We’ve got to look around--get the best deal. This is an investment,” he said, finding your hand and pulling you on. The two of you patrolled the aisles, looking for the best goats the place had to offer. You passed several tents with pens of hunting and herding dogs and though every fiber of you wanted to stop and oogle over them, you refrained. You hoped Bucky didn’t notice.

After a while your stomach growled, “Stay here a minute doll.” Bucky disappeared into the crowd leaving you to pet a brown and white speckled kid, who bleats at you everytime you let up. You coo at him and rub the little nubs where his horns are barely sticking out.

Minutes later, it had begun to mist and Bucky returned with a basket of fries and two hot dogs. You surrender the baby goat back to the pen and find some hand sanitizer.

“Food! You read my mind,” you grab a crunchy fry.

“Actually, I just heard your stomach,” Bucky notes, chuckling and motioning you under a makeshift pavilion, picnic tables lining the inside of it. The two of you sit across from each other sharing the fries and eating in content silence. Bucky watches you as you happily munch on the fries. Your hair’s adorned with dew beads, some dropping unbothered onto your rain jacket.

You catch him staring and grin, fry midway to your mouth.

He grins back. “Do you like it?” he asks, looking out to the acres of animals.

“It’s awesome. I think I’m a goat person now.”

Bucky chuckles and finishes his hot dog. Once you’ve finished yours the two of you do a couple more rounds, Bucky finally choosing the goats he wanted to take home. The goats are paid for and led back to the truck bed where you help Bucky load them into travel crates. They bleat affectionately at you and Bucky.

“They’re so cute,” you sat rubbing one on the forehead. It nuzzles into your hand.

“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” Bucky closed the crates. “You ready to go?”

“Of course. I mean you’re in charge. I’m just tagging along.”

Bucky nods. “Let’s go then.” You immediately stretch out when you get in the truck and he chuckles. “Gonna take another nap, slick?”

Your eyes roll. “Now I won't, just to prove a point,” you grin over at him. It’s just eye contact at first, and then it’s not. Then it’s Bucky leaning in and you’re meeting him halfway. His hand creeps up to caress your cheek as he kisses you. He pulls you closer, you bite his lip just hard enough to earn a grin so big it breaks the kiss.

“You’re something else, Y/N. Truly.”

“Not me,” you blush.

His eyes searching yours, looking for an answer. “You really think we barely know each other?”

You sigh, shaking your head, “No, I just--It’s just early in this.” You motion between the two of you. “It’s still new.”

Bucky nods slowly, pulling at a string on his jacket, “Doesn’t mean I don’t know you though. Or that you don’t know me. You know things about me nobody else knows…” he absent mindedly scratched at his left arm, pausing as the rain picked up outside, tapping away at the roof of the truck. “I know your Starbucks order, for hot days and for cold days. I know your favorite wine. I know you hate baking those mini eclairs but you love eating them.”

You’re blushing deeply now. “It’s just really soon, Buck. I don’t know if we’re ready for that.”

Bucky sighs, starting the truck, but leaving it in park. “We might not be completely ready, but I mean… we’re on the way right?”

You bite your lip, blinking at his question. “I don’t--I can’t see the future…” You trial off, extremely unsure of what to say.

Bucky somewhat aggressively shifts into reverse and pulls out of the spot. It’s quiet and tense as he pulls out onto the main road. Neither of you speak for the first 30 or so minutes and you can feel the tension building. You dread this kind of confrontation.

“If you can’t see a future with me, why do you want to get a dog with me? What are we even doing?”

You scoff, which irritates Bucky, “Maybe the dog thing was an ill-timed joke… I never said I don’t see a future with you, I just said I can’t see it. Like right now. I like you a lot, but this also feels like it’s gone so fast and I--”

“I didn’t think you had a problem with how fast it’s going?” Bucky counters.

“I never said I did, Buck.” You rub your temples. You recognize the scenery around you, meaning you’re getting close to not being trapped in his truck. “I just like where we are right now. I don’t wanna overthink what we have.”

Bucky is silent for a long while, until he turns into his driveway. “Can you see it changing one day?”

“Bucky…. Why the sudden need for future plans?”

Bucky puts the truck in park as his fingers beat on the steering wheel. “I think about that kinda stuff I guess. Wanna know what we are doing in this… relationship.”

“I thought we did.”

“We do… I just-”

“It’s fine. I need to get home.I haven’t seen Grams all weekend and we gotta get ready for the week.” You hop out of his truck, digging in your purse for your keys.

He rounds the truck as you find them. “Are you mad at me?”

You look up at him, blue eyes wide with concern. “No.. no. It’s just a lot to think about.” You reach up to fidget with the collar of his shirt, just an excuse to touch him really. It seems to diffuse some of the tension between you.

Bucky looks down at you, “Okay...”

A small smile breaks. “Well, why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? Grams would like to see you.”

Even though it’s not quite what he wanted to hear, Bucky’s eyes brightened. “Tell me when and I’ll be there.” Though you kissed him goodbye slowly, some tension still lingered in his chest. He waved as you pulled away, missing you the moment you were out of sight.

Taglist: Much love to y’all 😘

@notatallfriendly @thechaoticargonaut @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace @titty-teetee @harryngtonewithyourshit

@mcueveryday @peakyrogers @thedepressedsponge

Everything- @thefridgeismybestie @basically-introverted

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x poc #yeehaaw #MCU fanfiction #mcu au #cowboy!bucky #b.b.#bucky barnes is a farmer

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Alone

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder) ft. The Keating 5

Warnings: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Swearing, Trauma, Description of Injury

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: While working on a particularly tough case in the ungodly hours of the night, whether it’s due to the lack of sleep or the sudden need to confide in another human being, Michaela admits some truths to the person no one would think she’d ever do so to - her rival Connor Walsh.

Requested by Anon and requested as a birthday present by another Anon. Happy birthday darling Anon! Thank you so much for giving me the honor of writing you a birthday present though I hope the short notice doesn’t affect the fic’s quality. I accept the most brutal of feedback, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy it! Enjoy your special day! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“You know, just because you’re still awake and staring at a document doesn’t mean you have an upper hand here. Whether you’re actually reading that file is what will determine who gets the trophy, Miss Shooting Star.“ Connor Walsh waltzes into the living room turned office of the Keating home, looking and sounding a little too refreshed for someone who has had the same amount of sleep as everyone else of the K5 - minimal. Yet, unlike his teammates, he’s still perfectly functioning, talkative and looking forward to being productive without accidentally falling off a chair after being consumed by the slumber his body is probably dying for. It probably has something to do with that cup of coffee in his hand - his tenth one today, if Michaela’s counted correctly.

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot the damn trophy at your forehead.“ Michaela hisses back at him, tired, stinging and bloodshot eyes never leaving the piece of paper she’s been holding, reading and re-reading for the past twenty minutes, never really managing to grasp the words written on it.

“Good luck taking it from Asher. The Douche has fallen asleep with it in his arms.“ Connor sinks down in one of the armchairs, leisurely picking up one of the files laid out on the coffee table, looking at it with little interest.

This time Michaela’s gaze does indeed leave the paper so it can land on her rival, as she raises an eyebrow that somewhere between shocked and offended, “That asshole’s asleep?”

“He’s not the only one.“ It’s Connor’s turn to not spare her a look while answering, “Him and Wes are as good as dead on the kitchen island. Laurel and Frank are most likely awake, but also most likely not working on the case. Well, not this case, that’s for sure.“ He chuckles at his own joke, seeing as how his correspondent found no humor in it, “So, it’s down to you and me and Bonnie if she throws us a bone, which I doubt she will.“

Annalise was very clear with what she had said. Speaking the whole truth here, the five college students weren’t really paying attention until they heard that very strictly spoken phrase: “No one leaves here until someone finds something. Anything” aka the last phrase their professor had graced them with before walking out to go meet someone important for the night. She had every right to be strict and maybe even a bit cruel to them after they all had been exhibiting typical brat behavior throughout the day. To make matters worse and the job even tougher, Annalise had instructed Frank and Bonnie to go home so the kids would really be left to their own devices. Bonnie had had enough so no amount of begging her was gonna get her to stay - it’s also been proven that no amount of voicemails are gonna get her to come back either - but Frank, solely because of Laurel, stuck around and has so far not proved to be any kind of extra help - the polar opposite, in fact, he’s been distracting them all with jokes and snide comments at how incompetent they all are. Now if that wasn’t the most hypocritical thing.

“If the pressure wasn’t on already, I’d like to remind you we have...“ Connor turns his hand over, checking his wristwatch, “less than four hours until we have to show our not-showered, sleep deprived asses in court.“

Michaela groans, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Not that she’d ever admit it, but she was actually glad to have an overnight task, something that wouldn’t allow her to go home, but this is beginning to be too much. What others would call ‘home’ Michaela refers to as or ‘hell’. It was place she called ‘home’ at one point too, but it wasn’t long before things started going south. And by ‘south’ I mean horribly wrong and toxic. The man she thought she’d one day call fiancée and then husband has now become a monster from her worst nightmares. Having grown up in an abusive household, Michaela had always dreamed of finding a place for herself, a place she’d feel safe in. With a person who’d love her unconditionally and provide her the security she lacked growing up. And that’s what she thought she saw in Miles. She wasn’t wrong for the first few months, the fucker was good at putting up a front, putting on a show for everyone to build a positive opinion of such a disgusting human being.

The mask started falling apart shortly after Michaela moved in with him. She didn’t accept his offer without any thought, quite the contrary actually - she pondered it for a week and a half, her heart taking the win in the end. Well, her heart may have won that time but it is now in pieces. Her eyes have never cried so many tears and her skin has never bled nor been bruised so badly before. She feels broken, alone, betrayed, hurt. She feels all she felt every time she got hit as a kid. She feels like the whole world has equipped knives and guns, each with her name on them, ready to put her through torture.

And she’s got no one to tell, because no one will know what to say back. For some reason, when people are speechless they tend to say the dumbest, most hurtful crap without realizing. Hearing that on numerous occasions before, she knows what effect it’ll have on her, so she strays away from speaking up about it. She’d rather be alone and battle her demons than present those demons to someone else who will introduce new ones into her head and life.

She prefers solitude and isolation over additional torment. It’s always been an easy pick for her.

“If you don’t wanna fight this battle on your own, go fetch me a cup of coffee.“ She instructs, half-expecting the turn-down she receives immediately afterwards.

“You really think I’m gonna help you when you are the closest thing to competition I have in this group of dimwits? Go get it yourself.“

Michaela rolls her eyes, wondering why she even asked such an abomination of a question in the first place. Finding her legs too dead to take her anywhere, she remains in her spot with a heavy sigh, returning to her attempt at reading the file she and the rest of the Keating 5 five have read through a dozen times today just to find nothing off about it.

“Hey, this one’s marked twenty-three, that one on the table’s twenty-five, where’s the twenty-fourth one?“ Connor suddenly perks up suddenly, cutting the short silence that had fallen upon them. With the least amount of energy she’s managed to save up, Michaela waves the file she’s holding, blinking away the blurriness of that clouds her eyes. “Give it to me, I need to make some comparisons.”

“Come get it yourself.“ She barks back with the same amount of spite he used barely a minute ago.

Unlike her though, Connor complies, finding that file necessary for some reason despite knowing it’s useless. It’s all pointless and they’re all gonna hear it from Annalise tomorrow morning regardless. But the most they can do is keep trying - trying to prove themselves worthy of that trophy.

Getting up with the most exaggerated distaste in his movements, Connor crosses the distance between the armchair he’s been sitting in and the couch Michaela has not moved from for hours, surrounded by piles of paperwork, folders and files. Much to his surprise, she doesn’t even put up a fight, clearly having been fed up with staring at the same words and not grasping anything for half an hour at this point.

“Thank y-“ Connor is a syllable away from finishing his sarcastic statement of gratitude when his eyes land on something peculiar, he’d even call is quite worrisome - a large scar going from Michaela’s elbow to about midway down her forearm. It looks to be recent, given that there are still some dried specs of blood around it, “Holy shit....“ He mutters, carefully taking hold Michaela’s wrist as to gently turn her arm a bit more to the side in order to examine the cut, “What the hell happened to you?“

Not having realized what he was examining before, Michaela’s eyes widen when they follow his gaze and land on the very cut she spent an hour taking care of last night. That cut is the aftermath of a drunk boyfriend who wanted nothing more than a reason to start an argument with her when she got home. A reason to hurt her. Coming into work this morning, despite the high temperatures, she was stubbornly keeping a long sleeved jacket atop her shirt to keep the ugly remainder of yet another failure hidden. The relationship in and of itself is a toxic failure, but it’s built of other failures Mihaela blames herself for - she believes she fails every time he hurts her. She thinks she’s the one to blame for the failure because she couldn’t protect herself. So she feels ashamed, disgusted and is attacked by that sense of betrayal all over again.

Feeling these three emotions flooding in at the sound of Connor’s concern, she snatches her arm out of his grip, keeping the scar out of his viewpoint while her eyes scan the room, looking for the jacket she doesn’t remember discarding. “Piss off, Connor. It’s non of your business.”

If she had said something along the lines of it being an accidental injury, Connor might’ve even believed her and let the whole thing go. However, seeing hw distressed his question has made her become, he feels there’s a lot more to it than she’s letting on. So, fully aware it’s non of his business, he keeps prodding on for a reason even he himself doesn’t understand, “Maybe not, but that’s a concerning scar, you might wanna get it checked. In fact, it already looks like it’s infected with something.”

Michaela’s brows furrow, her distress growing into genuine fear as she removes the hand that’s partially covering the scar to check on it and try and see what Connor saw to lead him to make such an observation. Connor takes this opportunity to also get a better look at the cut and it doesn’t take him a while to realize what tool was used in causing it - a shard of glass.

“Michaela, it may not be my business...“

She cuts him off with hostility, “It’s not”, but her words are choked up and wavering. Her voice is shaking like she’s seconds away from bursting into tears. And Lord knows crying in front of Connor Walsh is the last thing she wants to do.

“Right, but you can’t tell me that’s an accidental cut. That looks very intentional, very straight, and very much like someone inflicted it on you.“ Seeing her barriers slowly starting to sink despite her best attempts at keeping them up, he keeps his pursuit of his secret, for the first time genuinely curious to get to the bottom of what’s troubling Michaela and not a single ulterior motive in his mind. “You can’t tell me that I’m wrong. I’ve had my fair share of glass shard injuries in my life too.“ The girl’s gaze remains glued to the floor but Connor doesn’t miss the tear that escapes her left eye, sliding down her cheek. This only strengthens his will to getting the truth out of Michaela. “I know I’m not among your favorite people, but I’m not a piece of scum, damn it. You can tell me, Michaela. Believe it or not, you can tell me.“

Silence takes over, loud silence, the one on her end filled with the inaudible sound of her walls coming down quickly. She’s left bare and exposed. surrounded by their rubble and unable to look her rival in the eye. Though, is he much of a rival at this moment? He appears dangerously close to a friend. Hell, Michaela would even make a snide remark about it if her insides weren’t so broken - her heart, her soul, her mind, they’ve all been shattered, bruised and bloodied way worse than her skin.

“Turn around.“ She says out of the blue, the order sounding more like a plea especially when accompanied by another tear freeing itself from the confinement of her pride. When Connor doesn’t move, she finally looks up at him to meet his baffled gaze, “Turn around so I don’t have to see the pity in your eyes when I tell you I’m a pathetic victim of an abusive relationship. The punching bag of an asshole with a short fuse and a drinking problem. A failure to myself and my family. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you think you have the upper hand now?“ Behind the tears that are spilling freely now is the mix of rage, devastation, dread and sorrow. It’s a dangerous combination that could cause her to pounce at him any second, push him away, take her anger out on him.

But that’s what he wants her to do.

He wants her to let it all out, free herself from all that’s been sitting on her chest. He wants to free her from whoever’s responsible for that scar on her arm and those thousands of little cuts on her soul, all still openly bleeding and unable to heal. He wants to save her. And it’s scaring him. He wants to write it off as basic human decency but deep down he know there’s something more. As much as the both of them would like to deny it, if one of them left the Keating 5 tomorrow, the other would miss them greatly. Threats, accusations, arguments and bickering aside, they are aware how great of a team they are. What a good pair of friends they could be if they just let their pride slip aside. But they don’t, and maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why they work so well.

However, even with that theory in mind, they’ve both let their pride go in this very moment. Walls and barriers have come down, lines have been crossed and they see each other differently now - More as fellow hurting humans rather than rivaling lawyers-to-be. Closer than ever, that’s for sure.

“Listen, Michaela...“

She once again cuts him off, “I don’t want your pity, sympathy or your advice. I don’t need you telling me to leave him! You think I haven’t thought of that?! You know nothing about it, you don’t get to judge me on my actions and choices!” She’s sobbing at this point with no hopes or ways of stopping the strangled noises from leaving her throat or the tears from escaping her red eyes.

Connor quickly crouches down in front of the couch so he’s at eye-level with her, his hands taking gentle but firm hold of her shoulders, “Michaela, no! That’s not what I wanna say! Listen to me, damn it.“ To his surprise, this actually gets her to calm down and stop thrashing to get his hands off. Slightly relieved, he pursues what he started, “I know, I know exactly how it is. Every time he does something nice it outweighs the bad. It’s those good moments that make you stay, I know. But those moments are the rare rainbow after a ton of rain. They are not worth this pain and suffering you’re enduring. He’s not worth it. You deserve so much more, so much better and you are aware of that!“

“But no one else is!“ She snaps, her hands coming up to hide her face, “No one else sees my worth beyond the job I do or the person that’s willing to put a ring on my finger. No one sees me for me, Connor! My value is determined by what kind of men find me decent enough for their beds or family contracts! What kind of response do you think I’ll have if I leave yet another relationship?“

Her words break his heart but he doesn’t let it show in his eyes, he’d rather close them than let her see that pity she fears and despises. He doesn’t pity her, far from it, but a simple misunderstanding on her end could break this already fragile bond they’ve built so he keeps his feelings at bay.

“Fuck them! Michaela, you are an adult woman, they can’t control your life anymore! No one can! That’s why you need to cut ties with those whose opinions you fear most. I don’t know what kind of stick they have up their asses, but without them you won’t be alone. You’ll be free!“

“And you’ll still have us.“ The sudden and new female voice comes from behind them, right by the doorway.

Both of them turn to look in that direction to find the four missing members of this late case-digging session: the sleepy Asher and Wes with Frank and Laurel beside them.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but Michaela, you will not be alone, no matter what the context is. We might not be the best friends one can ever have, but we sure as hell aren’t monsters.“ Laurel continues, being the only one to actually take a step in the room while the three men stay put, uncertain of how to approach the situation. “I think we all care about each other to some degree. So, I want you to know, we care about you and we’re here for you. No matter how many times you leave us in the dust with your eyes on the prize.“

That remark manages to get a smile out Michaela even with the tears that are still not done rolling down her cheeks. Asher is also quick to pipe in, “I second that! Anything you need, we’ll be here. Need us to bust someone’s skulls - we’re your people.”

Scoffing, Connor shoots Michaela a look, “Now that’s an idea. Give us the address of that shithead and consider it done.”

She rolls her eyes, “Let me get my stuff out of there first. I don’t want you getting blood on any of it.”

Connor stands up from his crouched position and turns to the rest of the team with a determined look and a hint of a smile on his face, “You heard her folks! The lady wants to collect her stuff, and I’ll be damned if I let her do it alone.” He turns back to his temporarily-not-rival, “Come on, you can crash at my place until this friendly phase of ours fades. Then I’m dumping you at Laurel’s.”

She narrows his eyes at him, “Hilarious.” Suddenly her eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up, “Wait, what about the case?”

“Laurel and I found something, already turned it in. We were coming here to send you guys home.“ Frank replies in his usual reassuring manner.

“Ooooh, so you were working on the case after all!“ Asher comments, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Yeah, we were. Unlike some who were asleep in the kitchen cuddling a trophy.“ Laurel retorts, sending him the most sarcastic of smiles.

This whole interaction between her...well, her friends has lifted Michela’s spirits enough to get her up on her feet, “In that case, better get prepared to help me pack three large suitcases.”

And with that the Keating 5 (plus Frank) disembark, heading to their new mission. Walking out of the Keating household with four people, all unconditionally supporting her without even knowing what’s going on and one person with his arm tightly wrapped around her in a protective manner, Michaela has never felt more safe and secure. She might not love these people and they might not love her either, but they are all fond of each other. And if their fondness has reached the degree where they’re willing to accompany her and aid her escape from the hell she’s been trapped in this past month and a half, she’s willing to call them friends.

Some closer than others, but she cannot admit that knowing that in a week’s time her and Connor will probably be at each other’s throats again. And she’s fine with that. Rivalry’s a type of friendship too, ain’t it?

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moth-song-archives · 3 years

Text

The Insatiable Flow of Time (1/8)

I remembered that I can make posts here too huh! Anyways, I wrote a post-MAG200 fic <3

I’ll reblog it again with the link to ao3 if you’d prefer reading it there :D

Rating: Teens and Up Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Categories: F/F Relationships: Georgie/Melanie, Georgie & Jon, Jonmartin (mentioned) Characters: Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Jonathan Sims, the Admiral, Basira Hussain (mentioned), Rosie Zampano (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned)

Additional tags: Diary/Journal × post mag200 × Post-Canon × Canon Compliant × Rated for swearing and me doing my best to write a fitting epilogue for my most fave story of all time × Bittersweet × Hurt/Comfort × Grief/Mourning × Gentle-Sad-Soft × Fluff × Non-Sexual Intimacy × Tenderness × Generally Hopeful Ending × Ambiguous/Open Ending × Catharsis × You know how TMA is a tragedy? ... yeah × Hope Punk × dealing with the fallout of surviving a literal apocalypse × Moving on and letting go × Trans Georgie Barker × Nonbinary Melanie King × Melanie uses any pronouns but needs to (re)discover this first × and is then mainly referred to with they/them pronouns for diary-simplicity × Melanie is ace in my heart ♡ × Jon is also enby but it only gets referred to in passing × Georgie has a Type™ × Character Study × i love them all so much × Nonbinary aspec author × it's very hope punk and somft BUT ALSO VERY SAD × in like a cathartic way × because i like causing pain :') × pre-written and updates every 2-3 days

I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

As the world tries to piece itself back together, Georgie grapples with her past, her present, and her future by keeping a diary. She also keeps having this strange, recurring dream that involves Jon. Post MAG200.

Finished at ~12k, will upload over the next couple of days <3

Day 3 - Evening

Melanie is sleeping. Basira is also sleeping, on the sofa in the living-room. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, these days, so for now she’s staying with us.

I am not sleeping. I’m so far beyond tired that I can’t sleep anymore. It’s been... how long? More than a day, certainly. I’m at the kitchen table and the night outside is darker than any I’ve ever seen. There are no street lights and a million more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. I wish Melanie could see them too :(

Back before everything in my life went wrong, I used to be really good at this. I think I got my first diary when I was... seven, maybe eight? I used to be obsessed with it. I guess I stopped writing in college, after the incident, because it felt... wrong? Like I was lying to myself, trying to fabricate emotions that just weren’t there, keeping up with things that no longer seemed important or note-worthy. Mainly, I couldn’t make myself care about anyone or anything anymore.

I think I want to find that person again, now that it’s over. Try and… move on? And Melanie encouraged me :) I guess that’s the main reason. I found this notebook in one of the domains when we were rescuing people. I don’t know what I originally wanted to do with it, but I did end up forgetting about it until I went through my bag again today. It smells like fire and is a bit singed in places, but I kind of like that? I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. ...that sounds very pretentious, but this is just for me, so...

And I like that it’s just cheap paper scribbled on with a shitty biro. Maybe I’ll just burn it when all the thoughts are on the paper instead of in my head. When I can sleep again. And the prize for the most dramatic way of closure goes to Georgie Barker! But yeah. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel different, now that they’re gone? The entities, I mean, though Jon and Martin seem to be gone, too.

I keep remembering Martin’s expression when he told us to go early, how upset he was.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. As long as I’ve known Jon, he’s always done what he thought best. It used to drive me up the walls, but I also admired it, I think? I never would’ve told him that, but… Well. He’s gone now.

It’s over, all of it.

And I still can’t sleep.

And Melanie is still blind, and I still feel empty, and my fear still hasn’t come back. Everyone who died is still dead, and the trauma is still there. There were angry mobs in the streets, and people got killed.

I can’t quite believe that Jon and Martin went with them. I can’t believe they left us behind to explain the entire mess.

We’re back in our old flat. It’s so weird to be back home. Everything looks the same, as though no time passed at all. Nobody knows what date it is. How long were we caught in there?

Outside, it feels like spring. There are birds everywhere, singing their hearts out. Sounds like more birds than there used to be, too. The trees are leafless and dead-looking, but Basira pointed out that they’re getting there... and it feels like spring.

I haven’t slept properly in 3 days because the questions keep me awake. It’s not that I’m worrying, really, just… thinking? I think I could sleep better if the worry had come back, but it hasn’t.

As far as we can tell, all modern devices are broken, too. Computers and phones and such, digital cameras, generators... we don’t even know what the rest of the world looks like. I hadn’t realised how much gets controlled by computers these days, we don’t even have central heating or water access in our flat. Rumours and news are spreading person-to-person, like in the Olden Days. We only have emergency systems that were installed in case of nation-wide blackout. I guess I’m glad we don’t actually have a blackout, we just need to get the computers back to work. (If I understood it correctly.)

Melanie thinks it’ll all come back to life in a few more days. I certainly hope so. I also hope I’ll stop feeling like this. Or rather, not feeling like anything. It’s so strange. Like in the first days after the incident, when I just felt numb?

They’re gone! I want to feel like a person again! What if I never get myself back?

They’re actually gone.

What will we do with our lives now? Basira isn’t the only one who feels uprooted. I think the whole world feels like that right now.

I hope my computer comes back soon. I miss music, and making things. My photos, all those memories.

I don’t want to lose all of that. I want to start fresh, but not without records of the past.

…I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, specifically. Records, and futures.

What the Ghost is done, right? There’s no fun in creepy ghost stories if you’ve been through an actual, living nightmare.

I think I want to start new with that, too. When everything works again, that is.

New world, new future, new podcast. I like that. I think. Make a record of what happened through eyewitness accounts? Or is that too similar to the Statements… then again, it’ll be more like interviews. And I think we shouldn’t forget.

We owe them that much.

I’ll have to talk it over with Melanie tomorrow. Maybe.

We’ll see.

God, I think maybe… maybe I can actually try and sleep tonight. Writing does seem to help.

Note to self: thank Laverne for suggesting it. (Also for being there for Melanie. And listening to us. And stopping with that culty nonsense. She’s the only one we found so far, but she actually listened to us. Strange to think that in this world, I have to be grateful for someone not worshipping me for some dumb reason?!)

Day 4 - Morning

So. Three things.

1) I did manage to fall asleep after all! I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, especially after the incident, so actually getting some proper rest felt really good.

2) I somehow woke up right as the sun went up! I think I’ve never seen a dawn this beautiful? I watched it from the bedroom window and I’ll definitely describe it to her in detail when she wakes up! The Admiral was sleeping on our pillow, right next to her head, snuggled up against the back of her neck and shoulder... it was so cute. I can’t believe my phone and camera still don’t work! Melanie has that old polaroid camera somewhere but we haven’t found it yet, and I wish my art skills were any better. I did draw a sketch of the two of them though. I’ll cherish it forever, no matter how shitty it is :’)

After everything that happened, the Admiral is still a bit weird around us. He started out really aggressive, calmed down a bit, and now… now he’s weirdly skittish? Meows a lot. Keeps walking around the flat. The only thing that even remotely returns him to how he used to be is tuna. It’s weird.

But seeing him like that, with Melanie? I love him so much.

I think he’ll be okay.

But before I forget, and why I actually got out the diary at this ungodly hour instead of trying to go back to sleep now that the sun is up…

3) I had a really nice dream. And... I don’t even know. I think I want to try and hold onto the feeling? I don’t think I’ve felt that… deeply… in a long while. Maybe the last time was before all this, when we decided to move in together. Before all of this happened.

For a moment, I felt like I was whole again :’)

It didn’t even have Melanie in it, which is very rude tbh. I think Jon was there? The Admiral, too. We were just chilling on the sofa, watching netflix I think... It felt so... mundane??? Casual, somehow??? Like it was normal to feel like that and I just... I want THAT. I want to feel like that again, instead of this weird… blank nothingness? I want that all the time, not just when I’m riding a high or feeling so terrible that it pierces through.

I don’t know if that makes sense but this is just for me anyway so I suppose it doesn’t have to.

I think I should feel bad about Jon being gone, but I still don’t even feel relief at it being over. Just this vague numbness.

I hate it so much, except I don’t, actually, I just know that I should?

Melanie keeps saying that I need a therapist but if we’re being honest here, I guess I need one the least? The whole goddamn world needs therapy right now. Including the therapists. And I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now.

I guess I keep hoping it’ll just go away somehow.

Anyways. Enough introspection, I’m going back to bed. I hope I don’t wake them! :)

Day 4 - Evening

It’s night now, the sun went down hours ago. We have a bunch of candles, but I’m trying to use them sparingly, so I just have one lit. I put a glass of water next to the candle so now the light gets magnified a bit more. It’s a weird atmosphere, but I kinda like it? Feels… cozy! :)

I’m still not over how everything looks the same, but nothing works like it did before, and there’s this… burden? This collective trauma everyone went through. It feels so surreal. So many things are still broken… it’s like we woke from a collective nightmare, but pieces of it still remain, floating around.

And we just sent it away with the tapes. I really hope those other worlds are doing better than us, but what else could we have done? I… try not to think about it. I know I should, but I still can’t really bring myself to care, or even feel overly guilty for that? …

Melanie fell asleep with her head in my lap half an hour ago. I was reading to her. She says she loves the sound of my voice, so I’ve started doing that in the evenings. (I still love that we had separate crushes from a distance on each other for ages because of youtube and WTG. We’ve been talking about that a lot, too.)

She still has nightmares, but apparently she’s also been having good dreams, and she looks so peaceful right now. The last few days have been a lot, but in comparison to before, and even before then…

It’s over. We made it out. We get to have a future together. I still can’t quite believe it. :)

I guess I’m writing again (despite already having done so in the morning) because it somehow helped yesterday and I’m hoping to replicate that. And I have a lot to think about. It’s been a long day.

Basira is still out there, helping out where she can. I think she feels guilty. Melanie says she doesn’t because there was no other choice, but I know her, and I know that she’s lying.

There’s always another choice. We just say that to make it easier to bear.

I hope she knows she can come talk to me when she feels ready to tackle it.

I hope I ever feel able to tackle it myself. No. I will talk to her when I’m ready.

We did talk a bit about things, of course. Melanie doesn’t really remember her dreams, most of the time, but apparently she’s been alternating between horrifying nightmares and a really nice, recurring one that sometimes happens after the nightmares. She doesn’t really remember much of it, but she mentioned it after I told her about the Jon dream. Not what it was about, just… in general.

From the way she talked about it, I think her dad might have been in it? I’m actually not sure, but the way she smiled…

She has that little smile on her lips again, even now, dreaming. The soft one she gets when she talks about good things. About him.

About me.

(I still can’t believe she chose me. How impossibly lucky? How did I ever deserve her? But then, it’s not about that, is it? She is mine, and I am hers, and… life will be good. I know it will be.)

She’s been smiling a lot more, these past few days.

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bangtan-madi · 4 years

Text

546 Days Without You — Eleven: Day 412

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 3.1k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 11 / 15

Warnings — minor language

Previous — Next

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. Time flies by as you travel from Korea to Europe, then to the Americas, then to Australia. In the four months that have passed, the amount of concerts has crossed over two-dozen. You've crossed into at least half as many countries across six continents, and this is only the half-way point.

Shortly after the new year, the group finds itself emptying out of the plane. Having landed in Nagoya minutes before, at an ungodly hour of the morning, you struggle to keep yourself awake. Gravity pulls your body towards the earth. The soft rain falls, creating a lullaby for the weary souls trekking towards the ride to the hotel. You'd like nothing more than to let the ground swallow you whole.

Tour has left most of the members worse for the wear, despite the joy and fulfillment that it brings on an almost daily basis. You considered it a gift from the gods that you had a whole 36 hours before the show. Everyone needed a good shower, a proper meal, and a long night's sleep after leaving Melbourne after the last show. If the next concert was going to be a success, the boys and you needed it desperately.

Along with some cheering up. It isn't lost on you that this is the last show for the next month. After Nagoya, you'll all be heading back to Seoul, where Hoseok and Namjoon will begin final preparations for enlistment. Their date is just under a month away; once mid-February arrives, you'll be saying goodbye to two more members.

It's the thought that's consumed your mind as of late. A lot has happened since Seokjin and Yoongi were conscripted; over a year has passed. Both the time and space have allowed you to reevaluate your stance on conscription.

A soft hand shakes your shoulder, bringing you out of your quasi-dream state and back to the moment. Jimin offers you a hand, assisting you in stepping from the car. The hotel is dimly lit against the Nagoya sky, and the famous castle stands high against the horizon. Any other night you might stay and admire for longer, as this city was one of Seokjin's favorites, but you willfully allow your closest friend to tug you into the building.

As Sejin checks the group in for the next few nights, you throw your arms around Hoseok's neck, mumbling, "Up, up."

The brunet bends down, scooping you up and cradling you against his back. Hands under your thighs, arms around his shoulders, head lulling against the crook of his neck, you welcome his comfort — quite literally with open arms. The youngest member kindly grabs your suitcase. Breathing deeply, your eyes flutter shut once again.

"Jungkookie's right," you slur on the short elevator ride to the upper floor. "You do smell nice."

Hoseok's laugh reverberates through his body, one of the greatest sounds turned to one of the greatest feelings. It's joy taken physical form.

"You're so cute when you're delirious," he chuckles.

"Don't make me out-rap you next time we perform. I have no problem taking my brother's place in 'UGH.'"

Hoseok slides the key to one of the rooms. "Oooh? Threatening me now, are we?"

Nodding against his shoulder, you tighten your arms when he tries to put you down. "M'comfy."

"[Y/n]-ahhh."

"Fiiine."

You drop your clingy arms from around his neck, and Hoseok settles you onto the queen bed in the center of the room. Jungkook drops off your suitcase, giving a small wave before departing for his suite across the hall.

A sudden vibration originating from your jacket pocket causes you to stir. A soft, quiet chorus from Seokjin's last song plays. Your exhaustion suddenly fading, you tug the phone from your pocket. Your boyfriend's face glows on the screen, giving you the option to accept or decline a face-to-face.

A grin spreads across your face, and you accept without hesitation. The call connects, and suddenly you're able to see him. He's already dressed in uniform, the patches on his collar revealing yet another promotion that happened over the new year. This status gives him even more freedom than before, and he can pretty much call you whenever he wants. Yoongi has reached the same status, although he tends to send you more voice memos than actual calls. Just like the two of you used to do.

Seokjin laughs, eyes crinkling up at the corners, at the sight of you on your side. Cheeks mushed up against the pillow, eyes barely open, curled up into a fetal position, you must be a sight for sore eyes.

"Just landed, I see?"

"Shut up," you murmur.

"You look exhausted, Jagi."

"That's because she is, hyung," Hoseok interrupts from across the room. He's finished dragging his suitcase into the room, then opens the door that leads to the other bedroom in the other suite. "Can't you call some other time? We're about to crash."

You roll your eyes and snicker. "Someone's getting cranky."

"He's right,"

Seokjin chuckles, bringing your attention back to his face.

"I just got up, and I wanted to check in, make sure you got to Nagoya safely. That's all. Don't want to keep you up."

Giving a thumbs-up, you force a smile and pull yourself into a sitting position. "Never better! Slept the whole way. How the hell are you up so early?"

"You know me: I'm always the early bird!"

"Yeah, except the earlier you get up, the more chaotic you are. Remember the punching bag and yoga mat incident?"

"Well—"

"—Or the time you about choked on mangos, after calling yourself elegant?"

"Aish! I get it! At least I don't snore when we stay at any—no, every hotel."

Hoseok returns to the doorway, toothbrush shoved into his mouth and an unamused expression on his face. He gestures with a flourish of his hand. "Wrap it up with loudmouth. I'm dead. We can admire your bickering tomorrow when we're human again."

Giving the older member a nod of assurance, you watch in mild amusement as he leaves for the washroom once again. Turning your eyes back to the phone, you find Seokjin mirroring your playful, mischievous expression.

"We're the worst, aren't we?"

"Oh, definitely."

Seokjin sighs, then straightens his posture.

"Do me a quick favor before I hand up?"

"For you, anything."

"Wooow, cheesy, [Y/n.]"

"Be quiet or I might change my mind!"

"Can you show me the Castle? In the center of Nagoya? I'm sure your hotel can see it. You can see it from anywhere, pretty much."

Your smile softens at his request. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you step towards the balcony door. Even through the window, Nagoya Castle is stunning. Once the door is opened and you step out into the crisp air, you flip the view around so Seokjin can see what you do. The lights around the castle case brilliant golden light across the white and green structure.

"Wooow,"

he breathes, causing you to smile at the screen.

"That's just like how I remember."

"Wish you were here to see it in person."

"You know I would be if I could."

Flipping the screen around so that he can see you once again, you ask, "When can you use the time off you've built up? I didn't think there was anything you had to wait for after your first year."

"Not on paper there isn't," he nods, running a hand over his shortened black hair. "But you haven't been back in Korea since before then—way before then—and I can't leave the country while on leave, so..."

"You can take a day off without us being there, you know."

Seokjin shakes his head stubbornly.

"Not vacation time. Nope, I'm saving all that for when you come back."

"We'll be back for a few days when Joon and Hobi enlist, their ceremony and such," you mention.

"I know..."

His sentence trails off, awkward and hanging in the air. Your boyfriend's eyes avert yours, and something in his voice cues you to pry further.

Tilting your head slightly, you lean against the railing of the balcony. "Why the hesitation?"

"I'm not hesitating, it's nothing."

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. "You're a liar, Kim Seokjin. Fess up."

His lips pull into a smile, and his eyes flutter shut. Not out of exhaustion, as your own so desperately crave, but out of near-annoyance.

"I was going to surprise you, fool! I was going to take off those days and show up at the dorms without telling you...but I guess you read right through me."

To say your jaw dropped in surprise would be a huge understatement. Eyes gaping and breath caught in your throat, you gawk at your boyfriend as he bursts into laughter.

"Surprised, Jagi?"

"Um...yes! You—wait, how? What?"

"Korean, [Y/n]. You can rap for god's sake."

You shake your stun away, forcing watery eyes to remain held together. "You're serious? I'm really gonna see you in less than a month?"

Seokjin's laughter fades, but his eyes are still sparkling.

"Very serious. I've already gotten the time approved."

Tears prick your eyes, and you lower your head into your sweater sleeve to hide from his gaze. This only amuses Seokjin.

"Getting all soft on me again? Your cool exterior is crumbling."

"I hope you know that this is all your fault, you ass. I never used to be this close to crying all the damn time."

"It's cause you've been without me for so long, isn't it? I'm your cure."

The balcony door slides open, revealing a sleepy, disheveled, and unhappy Hoseok. He doesn't say a word, only glowers at you—whites of his eyes hardly visible as he squints—until you sigh, "Fine, I know, I know. Time's up." After which he nods once and disappears back into the hotel.

"I'll go,"

Seokjin agrees, voice lighter than when he first called.

"Gotta do some work sometime today."

You blow a kiss to the camera, one that he pretends to catch and hold against his chest, over his heart. "Love you, miss you, but you know all that."

"I do,"

he teases.

"Love you, miss you, even more."

The next morning, you're awake after most of the other members. The sound of Hoseok drying his hair brings you out of peaceful slumber, much to your grumpy chagrin.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" he cheers, already fully awake even before coffee.

You give him the universal sign of love and affection, otherwise known as the bird, and stumble towards the other bathroom. Hoseok giggles at your less-than-pleasant attitude and goes about his business as you struggle to get ready.

After stepping from the hotel room, refreshed and ready for the unplanned day, Jimin appears with a cup of coffee extended towards you. "Fuel for m'lady," he greets.

Grateful for the favor, you give him a swift hug and walk at his side towards the recreational area on your floor. Suited with a pool table, miniature bar, breakfast nook, dining and sitting area, it's a perfect place for the whole group to spread out and hang in the free time. Since the members and staff take up most of the rooms on this floor, you basically have it all to yourselves.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" you announce as you enter.

Taehyung looks up from his platter of local tamagoyaki; beside him, Namjoon continues to read the book in hand. "I don't think we've decided," the former states.

"The show isn't until tomorrow night, so we have time to kill," Jungkook states from the breakfast bar. He's piling every kind of Japanese breakfast cuisine he can find onto his plate. "Sejin says we can kill time here if we want."

"Or we can go out and explore with the managers," Hoseok adds as he enters the room. "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel claustrophobic."

"Agreed," you mutter. Taking a long sip from your coffee cup, you walk towards the breakfast bar and snag onigiri. Looking around, you make sure that the members are the only ones present. No managers, no staff, no cameras. "I have an idea."

At your lowered voice, you catch the youngest's attention first. Jimin grins in your direction, and you flash them both a mischievous wink. "Aigoo," Namjoon breathes.

"I think we all need to get out of here, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda wanna explore Nagoya like a local. No security, no managers, no babysitters. Think about it--when's the last time we did that?"

"Went out without Sejin or security, and outside of Korea?" Taehyung asks, and you nod. He takes a moment to contemplate, eyes flitting upwards as he thinks. "Honestly, I can't remember."

Hoseok pipes up. "Since before Wings, probably. We're never really alone anymore."

Sensing trepidation from the members, you hop up onto the back of the sofa, perched with legs crossed. You press the tips of your fingers against the opposite hand's, creating a mirror image of mischief in front of your wicked grin.

"Here's my proposal. I've been to Nagoya a couple of times with Seokjin. It's one of his favorite cities, so I know all the best spots for fun. I also know how to avoid staff for the same reason."

"Yeah, you're an expert," Namjoon scoffs.

You hold up a hand in his direction. "Be quiet, Bonsai Boy. The Queen is speaking."

"She's spent too much time with Jin-hyung," Jungkook murmurs under his breath, and you choose to ignore him for now.

"So...who's going to take a leap of faith and trust me?"

Jimin mirrors your folded-hands, then slowly moves to rub them together with a slightly evil chuckle. "I'm in."

"Of course you are."

Jimin grabs the Taehyung and Jungkook by the arm, dragging them closer to you. "They are, too."

Seeing neither Maknae put up an argument to the contrary, you turn your hooded gaze to the eldest members present. "What say ye, Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon?"

Hoseok begins bouncing on his toes, clapping his hands together as he turns towards the leader. His smile is bright and wide, earning a sigh and shake of the head from Namjoon.

He gestures towards you with a defeated smile, dimples showing at the corners of his mouth. "Lead the way, Ms. Queen."

Having the agreement from each member, you clap your hands once and announce, "All right! Everyone go grab what they want for an afternoon and evening out. Make sure to grab a cap or beanie and glasses so we can blend in. I'll text the managers and tell them we're going to be hanging out in my room and that we want some alone time. Done it before, and they've never bothered me so I think it'll work. Meet back here in two minutes."

"How do you expect to get out of the hotel without being seen?" Jungkook inquires as he removes his arm from Jimin's grasp.

You reach up and pat the younger boy on the head. "Don't worry. I'm magic."

As everyone scurries back to their rooms, you text Sejin along the way; you give the listed excuse, and then grab a jacket and shoulder bag. Hoseok tosses you one of his beanies, and you pair it with your sunglasses.

Once reconvened, you nod for the boys to follow you. Pressing a finger to your lips, you tip-toe down the hall. The members follow suit, equally as quiet and sneaky, like a series of ducklings behind the mother goose. Instead of going towards the elevator, you lead them to the opposite end of the hallway. The staircase is unmarked and unguarded, but you've stayed at this hotel before on a previous trip and remembered it from then.

Opening the door, you usher each of the boys inside. "Go to the second floor. There's a fire escape we can take from there that will put us outside the building without having to run into everyone waiting in the lobby or the fans outside."

"You're eerily good at sneaking around," Taehyung repeats the sentiment from earlier, though he's smiling instead of shaking his head.

Your grin widens. "Did I ever tell you that my first date with Seokjin involved us sneaking into a theater to hear the live orchestra perform?"

"That makes a lot of sense," Namjoon chides in his usual passive-aggressive tone.

Once outside the hotel, around the corner from the entrance where most of the fanatic fans and insistent reporters pool together, you turn to the boys with two thumbs-ups. "Free at last! So, where do we wanna go? I know the best miso katsu place you'll ever visit. Or maybe we do something outside...or maybe a bit of both! What are we feeling?"

"We just ate," Jimin states, patting his stomach to show he doesn't have any room for more food at the moment.

Tapping your chin, you think back across all of the times Seokjin had taken you on various tours of Nagoya over the years. It's at least half-a-dozen times at this point, and on those days, you'd had a variety of adventures. Food, art, thrills, history: he'd shown you them all. You've explored the Castle and various other historical shrines and temples, and you've been to just about every food market and restaurant in the Showa-ku and Kita-ku wards. Museums and galleries have been ventured, as have tours of local wildlife and expansive parks. There have been many a shopping excursion, and you're an idiot if you think that Seokjin hadn't taken you to an amusement park or arcade at least a couple times. Holiday festivals, cosplay summits, local music--you've done it all.

But there's one adventure you had two years ago that's stuck in your mind ever since, the one day you both had more fun acting like children than any other date prior. A massive grin spreads across your face, and you grab the two oldest members' hands, dragging them towards the nearest subway station.

"Woah! Where are we going?"

"The Meijo Line!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin, @gracehiii, @live-2-fangirl, @rjsmochii, @btsnatalena

26 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 4 years

Text

Who's Side Are You On? (Part Seven)

Terminator (1984) reader insert

Warnings: blood, death, injury

Context: (Y/n) and Kyle are reunited again.

A/N: probably shouldn't be sharing this, but once I've finished this fic, I might do a similar thing but for T2, because I absolutely love it😅💛 if anyone actually reads this, then let me know what you think of both the fic and the idea!

Masterlist

After a good hour of tactical driving and tight manoeuvring, Kyle and Sarah finally manage to lose the Terminator, the red motorcycle swiftly disappearing from the rear view mirrors as the former navigates a busy main road, the expanse somehow still filled with vehicles despite the ungodly hour. Thankfully, the cyborg seemed to have run out of ammo for the guns on hand, given that it never fired any shots at them the entire time, which is unlike the killing machine's usual strategy of ruthlessly gunning down anyone in its path. By now, Sarah has started to drift off a little against the car door, exhaustion starting to set into her as the events of the day catch up to her, though Kyle is much more alert, his eyes scanning the road behind and ahead of them for threats, whilst his mind runs at a hundred miles per hour. Since they were taken in by the police, he hasn't seen his sister at all, only just catching a glimpse of her caught underneath the Terminator's foot as it slowly choked her to death with its weight, the thought of which eats away at him. Before Kyle and (Y/n) jumped back in time, they made a promise to each other, a promise that was almost cruel in nature:

"Whatever happens, just make sure Sarah lives. If that means leaving the other behind, then that's what needs to happen. We can't let our conscience get in the way."

Turning those words over in his head, Kyle decides to finally pull out of the city, seeing that they need to find somewhere to rest up for the night, somewhere that the cyborg on their tail won't find them so easily. A curse escapes him as he checks the fuel guage, noting that it is much lower than it ideally should be.

The roaring of a motorbike engine snaps his attention back from the controls of the car, his eyes widening as he catches sight of a familiar figure fast approaching, his jaw clenching as he notices exactly who it is. Taking the handgun from his pocket, he checks the magazine and cocks it, the sound startling Sarah from her reverie as she take a note of Kyle's sudden tension, her eyes widening when she realises what it means.

"Drive." He orders her, voice toneless as he leans out of the smashed-in window, the gun raised and aimed straight at the approaching motorbike, his arm unwavering in its determination. Taking off the safety, he prepares to shoot.

Pain erupts through me as my conscience starts to leak back into my head, agony shooting up through me from a profusely bleeding wound on my stomach, bruises, cuts and other aches swiftly making themselves known. Letting out a strangled growl, I grip the handlebars tighter, my focus set on the car in front of me as I start gaining on it, trying to ignore the fact that I have no recollection of the last hour or so, the blood coating my body totally unexplained, except for the fact that the last thing I remember is gunshots. Adjusting myself on the bike, I accelerate faster, only to slow again when I notice my brother leaning out of the car window, a gun aimed straight at me. Panicking, I try to lift a hand from the handlebars to wave him off, only to falter as a sudden jolt of pain tears through me, my body falling awkwardly into the bike.

Struggling to regain control, I manage to lift a hand up, feebly forcing my stiffening fingers to form the signals we've all been taught to recognise, knowing Kyle will recognise them and be able to tell it's me...the safe version of me.

I repeat them a few times until he lowers the weapon and reciprocates them, gesturing for me to follow them, before he climbs back into the car, leaving me to fight with the pain flooding my body. Determinedly, I pull the motorbike in line with the car ahead of me, making sure to follow them as closely as possible, glad now that we were trained on the reconstructed dirt bikes, back home. Fighting off the spasms of pain in my muscles, as well as the overwhelming light-headedness from the blood loss, I pursue the car ahead of me, noticing that it is becoming ever slower, the fuel most likely running out as they eventually flick on their hazard lights, pulling over into a side road. Following, I slow and stop the bike beside the powerless car, kicking the stand out and climbing off, collapsing down beside the vehicle as my knees give out, my head spinning violently, a grunt of pain escaping me.

Black spots start to appear in my vision, but I force them away, gritting my teeth as I heave myself back upright again, using the bike as a crutch, only to find myself swept up into a tight embrace as I do so. Kyle instantly buries his face into my shoulder, crushing my body against his as I try to reciprocate, weakly wrapping my arms around him as I lean against him, reassured by his familiar smell and presence. Holding me for a few more minutes, he mutters relieved and thankful words into my ear, glad to see I'm still alive after what I can only assume was an attack from the Terminator on our asses.

Pulling away, he props me up and helps me over to the underside of the road, where there is a small underpass, sitting me down against the wall as I try not to black out again, before he goes back out to help Sarah win moving the car from the side of the road. Returning to me, they find that I'm desperately trying to stem the slow flow of blood from the wound in my stomach, the bullet having left more of a mark than I would've liked, my teeth gritted against the sensation.

"Hey, let me help." Kyle kneels down, opening a small box beside him as he checks over the wound, a grave expression on his face as he takes in the marks all over my body. Taking out some rubbing alcohol, he carefully wets a cotton pad and drags it over the jagged hole, the harsh chemical stinging painfully as I groan in response, my muscles tensing sharply. Cleaning away the blood, Kyle then bandages it up, staunching the flow with a wad of cotton, taping it securely to my abdomen with a practised ease.

"Th-thanks." I smile up at him, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my stomach, my head feeling heavy.

"No problem." He replies, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my forehead.

Beginning to drift off, I let myself relax finally, knowing I won't get much productive done in the morning if I can't stay awake. Idly, I listen in to Kyle and Sarah talking with each other, not reacting to any of it as I try not to move too much.

"Cold?" Kyle asks Sarah, having taken note of the violent trembling of the girl across from us, her teeth chattering.

"Freezing." She confirms, giving him a surprised look when he moves to sit with her, awkwardly cradling her body against his.

A few moments of silence follow, during which I pull myself up tighter, wrapping my coat tighter around my body as I start to feel the same chill Sarah does.

"Reese?" Both Kyle and I look up at Sarah's questioning tone, the two of us hardwired to respond to that name, though I quickly figure out that she means him, "You got a first name?"

He frowns slightly before replying, as if he forgot that he was referred to by anything over than his surname, even though I've always called him Kyle.

"Kyle." He reveals, looking down at her.

"Kyle." She repeats as if testing the name, "What's it like travelling through time?"

Once again, Kyle frowns, unsure of how to describe the feeling. I struggle to hold back a chuckle, knowing full well that the feeling is indescribable, the sensation alien and foreign to the body, disorientation and nausea clouding he mind as soon as it is sent through.

"White light. Pain." He says, trying to think up better ways of putting it, "It's like being born, maybe."

All of a sudden, he flinches, arm jerking back as Sarah accidentally runs a hand over his forearm, causing her to jolt upright.

"My God!" She exclaims, staring at him questioningly.

"I think I caught one back there." My brother confesses, drawing his arm into himself, noticing me looking at him in concern.

"You mean you got shot?!" Sarah bites out, terrified.

"It's not bad."

"We need to find you a doctor!"

"I'm ok, forget it." He tries to reassure her, wincing again when she takes hold of the arm.

"Forget it? Are you crazy?! Take this off!" She helps him pull the long coat off, revealing an ugly gunshot wound, the skin around which is already bruising, "Jesus."

"See, it went straight through the meat." Kyle tries again to get her to leave it, but she isn't having it.

Grabbing the first aid kit from beside me, she murmurs something about puking form the sight, before taking a bandage out of it and unravelling it, moving to his arm so she can work on it.

"Can you talk about something?" She requests, looking between the two of us.

"Like what?" I hoarsely croak out, my throat dry and sore.

"Anything. Tell me about my son, what's he like?"

At this, I look to Kyle, knowing he has more of an affection for the leader than I do, given their closer connection. The soldier starts listing off the many talents and virtues of our resistance leader, leaving me to zone out again, my own thoughts straying back to memories of my "home" and the many people we will never see again.

My eyelids finally fall closed, sleep quickly taking me as I overlook the overwhelming pain in my body, my head falling to my chest, hand reaching for my gun, a habit I'll never be able to kick...

The air is thick with the reek of burning metal and flesh, dust and smoke mingling with every breath that is inhaled, leaving many of us coughing as we move through the great piles of rubble, our helmets doing little to protect us from the airborne particles. Our eyes sting, tears falling persistently from bloodshot expanses of pale, nearly emotionless, white, our skin darkened by the smog and pollution, dirt lingering like a perpetual second layer over it. Not much is visible, but we know where we are going, the route from the outpost to the main base familiar to us, given how many times we travel it

We are silent, listening out for the approach of any HKs that could be on patrol, the ruthless machines often out at this time of the night, their systems somehow having picked up on the fact that we use this time to travel around the most, though we are usually prepared for any major problems; a variety of sharpshooters range around us, staying out of sight, ready to fire on anything that makes a move on us. Tonight, however, the silence is eerie and thick, as if concealing a threat we can't see or sense, which is entirely likely. My fingers tighten on the stock of my assault rifle, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as I start to feel an odd sensation, my gut twisting uncomfortably. Frowning, I check the safety on the weapon and cock it, just to be sure.

Just as I do so, a familiar, metallic whine starts up behind us, the rhythmic clanking of metal feet on pieces of debris suddenly filling the air. My gaze snaps up, my heart stopping at the sight around me.

We're surrounded.

Hellfire breaks out, screams of agony exploding from my comrades as they fall to the floor, chests smoking from the wounds that killed them, many of them writhing around as they die of blood loss, rather than immediate causes. Biting my lip, I change my stance and start firing back at them, catching one in the eye, the metal endoskeleton collapsing to the floor without a sound, it's crimson eyes flickering out as it "dies".

My ammo runs out far too quickly, however, and I am soon left defenceless.

Bristling with hostility, I stand my ground, fumbling for the handgun at my belt, only to cry out when I'm shot in the leg, the impact crippling me as I fall onto my knees, groaning in agony as blood starts to pour out of the new wound. I grit my teeth, trying to stay upright for long enough to shoot then back, only to let out a pained grunt as I am suddenly kicked to the floor, my face colliding harshly with a brick, throwing dark spits into my vision. Starting to black out, I eye the cyborg stepping over to me, confusion filling me when I see it crouch beside me, even more shock accompanying it when it reaches down and takes a register of my pulse, as if making sure I'm still alive. Satisfied, the cyborg takes hold of my leg and starts dragging me behind it, my body bumping over the debris, scratches and bruises appearing on me quickly.

As it walks, the cyborg this one look over its shoulder, it's scarlet eyes boring into mine as they start to close, fatigue setting in...

I jolt awake, wincing as a sharp spike of pain tears through my body, my face covered in sweat, muscles shaking badly.

"You alright, (Y/n)?" Kyle asks me from across the gap, still holding a now-sleeping Sarah, eyes narrowed in worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine...just having some...vivid dreams..."

Part Eight

#terminator imagine #terminator 1984 #terminator #arnold schwarzenegger #michael biehn #Linda Hamilton

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ofendlesswonder · 5 years

Note

“It’s three in the morning.” if it moves you :)

3. “It’s three in the morning.”

Cat’s just started to drift off when the ringing of her phone cuts through the haze of sleep in her mind, and she groans as she rolls onto her side, reaching blindly for the device sitting on the bedside table of her hotel room.

Leaving behind CatCo was supposed to stop phonecalls at ungodly hours of the night (or morning, she supposes, as she glances at the time, her eyes bleary as she forces them open), and her thumb is already hovering over the ignore call button before she recognises the name on the screen and feels suddenly wide awake.

“Kara?” Cat answers with a question, because since she’d left National City, she hasn’t had any contact with her former assistant. Not directly, anyway – Cat has been keeping an eye on her from afar, though, with a google alert for both Kara Danvers and Supergirl set up on her phone, and she tells herself that it’s not weird, that she just wants to see how Kara is faring in her new role (the answer is, ofcourse, excellently).

“It’s me.” It’s Kara’s voice, but not in a way that Cat has ever heard before, the words loud and slurred, music pulsing in the background, and is she drunk at a bar?

Could she even get drunk?

Has she lost her powers again, rendered human, and wondered what the fuss was all about?

“Kara?” Cat repeats, her brain not quite working atfull speed. “Are you alright?”

“W-why wouldn’t I be alright?” The words are strung together, and it takes Cat a moment to decipher what she’s said.

“Because,” Cat replies, rolling onto her back andstaring up at the pale blue ceiling of her suite, “it’s three in the morning, and you’re calling me drunk after we haven’t spoken in months. Did you mean tocall me?”

“Yes.” Kara says it with certainty, and Cat can imagine her perfectly, sitting in a leather booth somewhere in a dive bar, her head nodding eventhough Cat can’t see her. “It’s not three in the morning here.”

“No, I suppose it’s not,” Cat acquiesces – she’s onthe east coast, visiting D.C., which will hopefully become her new home, if she plays her cards right, and she’d completely forgotten about the timedifference. “Why are you calling, Kara?”

“I… I miss you.” Kara’s voice is smaller, now, less certain, and Cat’s throat feels tight as she swallows, because she misses Kara, too, but that’s a secret that she’s sworn to take to her grave.

It wasn’t the only reason she’d left her companybehind (she was growing bored, felt like she needed a new challenge, a new adventure), but it was definitely a contributing factor. Cat had no idea when Kara Danvers had managed to worm her way under the sky-high walls that surrounded her heart, but by the time she’d realised, it had been too late, she was in too deep, and the only way she could think of to stop her falling even further in love with her unsuspecting assistant was with time and space, two things that she’d gotten by packing up her belongings and leaving National City behind.

(Not that it had worked, not really – she stillthought of Kara often, but at least here, with half a country separating them, Cat could avoid any kind of temptation, any risk of doing something reckless,like drawing Kara into a kiss and ruining everything).

“Kara…” Cat doesn’t know what to say, knew that ‘Imiss you, too’ would send them tumbling down a rabbit hole that would be hard to come back from. “Do you want me to call someone to come and get you?” Cat’s sure that the sister wouldn’t be too hard to track down.

“There isn’t anyone.” Kara’s voice is small, and sad, and Cat aches at the sound of it. “Alex has Maggie, Winn has Lyra, J’onn has M’gann and James has been doing everything he can to avoid me, lately. Lucy left and… so did you.”

The words come out quick and fast, and Cat struggles to keep up, especially when she has no idea who half of those people are.

“Are you okay, Kara?” Cat asks because she absolutely doesn’t sound it – Kara, who is so bright and full of hope, sounds completely and utterly defeated, and Cat’s chest feels tight, wishes she could be there to comfort her.

She wonders if Kara had already tried to call herother friends before she’d landed on Cat’s number, and tries to ignore the flash of pain that being a last resort sends rippling through her.

“No.” Kara’s laugh is bitter. “I have someone here, you know, that wants me.”

Cat’s jaw clenches at that, images flashing throughher mind, of Kara kissing someone else, a face lined with shadows but Cat knew that whoever Kara chose to be with, they would be handsome or beautiful, ageappropriate and decidedly not her boss.

“Then shouldn’t you be on the phone to them, and not me?” Cat counters, sitting up in bed because after this there’s no way she’s getting any more sleep tonight.

“You see, that’s just the thing, Cat.” Kara’s voice sounds so very tired. “I know it would be so, soeasy to let myself be with him, but I… I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words almost stop Cat’s heart dead in her chest.

She’d known, of course she’d known, about Kara’s crush on her – she wasn’t blind, and Kara wasn’t exactly subtle, but she also wasn’t delusional, knew that there was a world of difference between admiring someone (an older, confident someone) and actively wanting to pursue some kind ofrelationship with them.

“Kara…” It’s barely even a croak, but that’s all Catcan manage, clears her throat before attempting to continue. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Kara replies. “What’s that saying? Drunk words are soberthoughts? Maybe I just needed a little bit of liquid courage to admit the way I feel.”

“Even if that’s true,” and Cat didn’t want it to be (couldn’t let herself believe it might be, lest she fall apart), “why are you telling me this now? It’s been months sinceI left.”

“I was trying really hard to forget about you.” Kara’s sigh is heavy. “But I never could. And I guess seeingeveryone else so happy, I… I want that, too.”

“You could have that,” Cat says, gently. “With… withwhoever it is you have over there.”

“He pales in comparison to you.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true.” It’s Cat’s turn tosigh, now, sure that she could never offer Kara all of the things that she deserves – and she deserves the world. “I think you should go home, Kara. Get some rest – you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“No, I won’t.” The music in the background fades, and Cat wonders if she’s stepped outside. “I won’t feel better until I see you.”

“Kara - ”

“Where are you?”

“Too far away for you to make it tonight.”

“I think we both know that that’s not true.” It’s quiet, but it’s an admission all the same, and Cat wonders if Kara will regret trusting Cat with her closely guarded secret in the cold, harsh light of day – not that Cathasn’t known for all this time, anyway.

“Regardless, I don’t think you should drink and fly.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’d hit anything. Well, maybe a bird.”

Cat allows herself one moment to dwell on that visual before replying. “You might fall out of the sky.”

“I wouldn’t.” There’s that certainty (and stubbornness) again. “Where are you?”

“I really think you should sleep on th - ”

“Fine, I’ll find out myself,” Kara huffs, and Cat can only blink as Kara hangs up on her, the dial tone ringing in her ear. She rings Kara back immediately, but there’s no answer, and Cat hits redial as she climbs out of her bed to pace, mind filled with visions of Kara hurtling into buildings or falling out of the sky, too inebriated to know what she’s doing.

The tap on the glass probably shouldn’t have startledher, all things considered, but Cat still jumps when she whirls to find Kara hovering outside of her balcony door. At least she’d had the wherewithal tochange into her suit, won’t have been spotted flying cross-country in civilian clothes, and Cat supposes, as she slides the door open, that any pretencesbetween them are long gone, now.

“Are you crazy?” Cat hisses as she ushers Kara inside, and she’s never been so grateful that Carter’s spending a few weeks with his father as she is right now. “What if someone had seen you?”

“What, like ‘Cat Grant gets late night call fromSupergirl’ wouldn’t give you a big media boost?” Kara counters, and she’s clumsy as she collapses onto Cat’s bed, kicking off her red boots and fallingbackwards with a sigh.

So, still drunk, then.

Cat allows herself a moment to drink in the sight ofthe other woman in all her glory, in a way she’d never dared, back when they’d used to work together. Kara’s eyes flutter closed, the light of the mooncasting shadows over her face, and she’s so beautiful that it almost hurts to look directly at her.

“What were you thinking, Kara?” Cat berates her, standing at the foot of the bed with her arms foldedacross her chest, only suddenly becoming aware of the fact that she’s wearing only her pyjamas, the cotton fabric thin and clingy, and she feels exposed,vulnerable, as Kara’s eyes flicker open to meet her own. “Flying out here like that? What if you got hurt?”

“I was fine,” Kara huffs, leaning up on her elbows.“And I was thinking that I needed to see you. To make you believe that I’m serious.”

“I’ll believe you more when you can stop slurring yourwords.”

“Drunk words are - ”

“Sober thoughts,” Cat finishes, “yes, we alreadycovered that.”

“We did?” Kara frowns, and really, she has absolutelyno right to look that adorable. “Oh.”

“See, you’re not even going to remember this in themorning,” Cat sighs. “You’re going to wake up in Washington D.C. in my hotel room and think I’ve kidnapped you.”

“I’m staying the night?” Kara perks up at that.

“Well, I’m hardly letting you fly anywhere else.”

“We’re in Washington?” Kara clambers out of the bed to go to the window, pressing her face against the glass to look at the twinkling lights beyond.

“How do you not know where you just flew to?” Catasks, alarmed. “Come to think of it, how did you find me?”

“Um.” Kara glances away from the window to look at Cat’s face, looking more than a little guilty. “So, don’t think I’m creepy for this, but… I kinda, sorta, know what your heartbeat sounds like, so I just… followedit.”

“You… followed the sound of my heartbeat… across the country?”

“Yes.”

“Your hearing is that good?” Cat is impressed, morethan anything.

“Kinda,” Kara shrugs. “Once I’m familiar with a sound, if I really, really focus on it, I can pretty much follow it anywhere.”

“And you’re so familiar with my heartbeat because…?”

“We spent two years working together, Cat. I picked it up.”

“That’s how you always knew I was coming,” Cat murmurs, more to herself than anything – it hadbeen notoriously difficult for her to sneak up on her former assistant, no matter how hard Cat might have tried. “Do you have any other weird habits Ishould know about?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, then.”

“Cat, about everything I said before - ”

“Don’t.” Cat cuts Kara off with a wave of her hand,not wanting to hear what she said next. “I meant what I said before – you should sleep on this, before you say anything else. If you still feel the same in the morning, when you have a clearer head, then we can talk about it. But only then.”

“So you want to talk about it?” Kara asks, her eyes looking so very hopeful, and Cat’s throat feels tight, because god, she’s never wanted anything more. “I’m not just… showing up here barking up the wrongtree?"

“No, Kara,” Cat murmurs, doubtful Kara will remember any of this in the morning. “But you need to get some rest. Sleep it off.”

She’s about to clamber into the bed, suit and all,before Cat stops her, handing Kara a pair of pyjamas and promptly spinning on her heel when Kara began to tug at her suit – apparently drunken Kara has verylittle modesty, and Cat’s sure that she won’t survive the sight of the other woman half-dressed, ducks into the bathroom for a moment, instead.

She can’t help but pinch herself to check that thisisn’t just all a dream, that she isn’t imagining the fact that Kara is here, all of the things that she’s confessed to tonight. She doesn’t allow herself toread too much into what it might mean, because for all of Kara’s assurances, she is still drunk, and things might well change when she wakes up in Cat’s hotel room, and reality sets in.

By the time she deems it safe to emerge from thebathroom, she finds Kara already under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing even, and Cat shakes her head wryly, more than a little jealous ofthe other woman’s apparent ability to immediately fall asleep.

She can’t resist the urge to step close to Kara, topull the covers, abandoned at her waist, up to her shoulders, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She’s about to walk away when ahand shoots out to grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks, and when she turns back around, Kara’s eyes have blinked open.

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.” Not that she’d get muchsleep, anyway – not with the way her life has just been turned upside down.

“But there’s plenty of space right here.” Kara’s thumbrubs against Cat’s wrist as she uses her other hand to pat at the other side ofthe bed.

“Kara - ”

“Please?” She asks, gaze pleading, and oh, how doesCat have any hope of denying her?

With a sigh that holds no trace of reluctance, shemakes her way around the bed and slips into it, her breath catching when Kara shuffles towards her, reaching for one of Cat’s hands and pulling it around her waist.

Cat wonders, as she rests her forehead against theback of Kara’s head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, when Kara had become so emboldened. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but it seems like more than that, somehow, and she wondershow much has changed since she’d left National City, how much she’s missed, whilst she’s been away diving.

There’s no time to ponder that now, though – she can ask Kara about it in the morning, along with the million other things on her mind. She’s convinced she won’t be able to sleep a wink, worrying too muchabout what tomorrow would bring, but she finds that, with her arms wrapped around the one woman she’d never dreamed of getting into her bed, it comes easier than it ever has before.

#supercat #supercat:fic #this very much moved me lol this is way longer than i anticipated #lockdown prompts #hope you enjoy!#Anonymous

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sylph-feather · 4 years

Text

Resident

Summary: The student body is fascinated by the green eyes in the courtyard.

Prompt by @enigmaris

“Due to an unfortunate housing mix-up, Danny arrives at his first year of college only to find that he was never assigned a room! Rather than be stuffed into a too small dorm with five other guys, Danny decides to take the refund for his housing and find a place on campus to haunt until he can find his own apartment. Write a story about the new campus ghost everyone keeps spotting.”

Wordcount: 1438

They say it’s a pair of green eyes in the dark. Many dismiss that as just an animal: a squirrel, or (at most interesting) perhaps a raccoon. The Zoology majors throw around fancy words like tapeta lucidum, but the sentiment remains the same.

Still, the insistent say “it’s too tall,” or “floating,” and won’t be swayed by any notions of fences or reflective animal eyes or tricks of light.

But if it were only two eerie wisps floating on the large lawn, it would not have gained much traction.

No, no, of course there’s more.

Underneath the lawn, there’s a large physics lab— underground to keep cool. Some say that it’s been cooler than normal, in the night, when they burn their candle with coffee in order to get a paper done. There’s frost patches on the lawn in the morning sometimes, even when it’s not at all been the weather for it.

Some physics students (astrophysics especially), strained looks in their eyes, say that sometimes when they go to do a lab in the night (long after they should have, or should be there or even awake) the equipment stills from movement and papers ruffle with a ghoulish wind— as though someone else had been doing that same assignment, and quickly ghosted out of there. Literally.

...Little do they know, they’re quite accurate. Danny Fenton is a similar procrastinator, and he simply has the added bonus of being half ghost on top of it, sneaking down to the labs to get last minute work done.

And, as for the lawn— well. There… was a housing mix up. A mix-up he just kind of shrugged off, said, “sure, I have a place to stay until something opens up.”

...He sleeps floating, invisible. It’s quite comfortable, oddly enough, and he takes almost a comfort in being Phantom so casually in this new place.

The other students don’t find their apparent haunting quite as comforting. Hence, you know, the rumours.

...It really, really comes to a head the day more logical students become interested. Science majors sticking their noses into things, because surely these observable phenomena have a similarly observable cause.

The most popular theory is faulty cold vents from the labs, animals revelling consistently in that with the summer, consistently enough to provide those eyes. Other theories regard anything from a release of liquid nitrogen to hallucinations.

Needless to say, nerds that they are, they are curious, and curiosity leads to tests.

Perhaps, if Danny were less tired, he would’ve been invited— but no, that nerdy group encourage the tired looking teen (in truth, tired from another night literally ghosting the astrophysics lab) to get some rest. They resolved to tell him about it tomorrow.

That is, until the bump into him. Literally.

Well, the group doesn’t know it’s him— looking for a vent or gas leak, somebody’s head collides with something solid, mid-air.

Phantom falls gracelessly out of the sky, pinwheeling his arms to crumple into something less face first but still uncomfortable.

The nerd group stares. And stares. And stares.

“This has got to be a prank,” one finally says.

Danny blinks awake. “Uh, yes, haha! Yes! You got me, putting, uh,” he pauses. One of his palms is flat on the soft grass, and beneath it he creates a handful of ice cubes. “Ice! Ice. On the lawn.” Phantom pauses again. “To make people think there’s a ghost.”

“You’re glowing,” another points out, dumbfounded.

Danny’s laugh just gets more nervous, more unbelievable. “Gotta look the part, I guess,” he tries.

“How are you glowing?” one asks. “Is that makeup bioluminescent?” Agh, Zoology major, Danny curses mentally.

“Yes,” Danny agrees, “let’s go with that.”

“I bumped into something midair,” says the mousy boy who had indeed bumped into a floating Phantom, running straight into that horizontal figure and taking it right in his chest. “And then you showed up. Right after.”

“Me being a ghost,” Phantom scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”

And then before anyone else says anything, he playfully floats off the ground and gives a mock salute before flickering out of existence.

The students yell and circle like angered, frightened, confused chihuahuas, yipping and yelping about this and that. Danny watches from further in the air, snickering. He is far from Amity Park, where ghosts are an expectation and a reality. There are no actual (that is to say, effective) ghost hunters here.

They investigate further-- now the popular theories are that all this is some elaborate prank (they justify his weirdness with light tricks and whatnot), and the second being that all this was some shared hallucination (perhaps from a gas leak indeed). They find evidence of neither; no projectors, no escaped vents, nothing.

Danny dozes off, high in the air, befuddled and now tired students searching all night.

The next morning, the science group presents a logical, factual report. There is one section with a neutral description of the night: ...bumped into a solid object in the air. It appeared that a person fell from, or was this object. They appeared male, with white, wispy hair, wearing what appeared to be a jumpsuit of black with white gloves, and a distinct spiked logo of a D. He appeared to put off a glow, and had green eyes. We exchanged words. Dialogue transcript and artistic rendition attached below.

Underneath the transcript and picture-- a picture, Danny noted, was quite alright, though a little vague on the facial features-- was notes on theories.

Of course, the student body only cared about the first part of the document.

His backpack was hidden in some swirling ghostly pocket space-- something he learned how to do and was quite useful given the housing mishap. Still, it was annoying to have more and more students poke around the lawn when he was trying to sleep.

Now that he’d mostly passed off the ghost fighting to his parents (he occasionally teleported back and forth to Amity, but that took a lot of energy), Danny was actually enjoying freedom of sleeping. He still, of course, pulled the stupid student things going down into the lab to finish a project last minute at ungodly hours of night, but he was still largely enjoying this new sleep. So yes, annoying.

After a week of the same number of people still poking around, Danny decided that no, it wouldn’t die off, so he planned something.

Phantom began showing up elsewhere.

Green eyes in the forest, a flit of a jumpsuit above the fountain, flickers in the hallways. Just little bits; enough to be seen, enough to direct their search elsewhere, but not enough to actively wig people out. Danny’s goal wasn’t fright, after all, it was to be left alone, please, I like sleep.

That’s how it went until Skulker showed up, that is.

Ghosts had trouble away from ghost portals; even Danny needed some spare ectoplasm from his parents to keep that half of himself powered up, and he had a human half’s energy to fall back on. They tended to turn wispy and fragile, barely-there things that were more the typical picture of ghosts.

Skulker managed to secure some tech; perhaps Fenton, even, considering his parents had been trying to design him an ecto-generator that put out sustainable energy for a longer time than just consuming raw ectoplasm. Skulker certainly had a new, fancily whirring thing on his suit when he came on the lawn, missiles ablazing in broad daylight, and demanded: “ghost child, come out! Your cowardly place of hiding is doomed, and any others shall be doomed as well! I shall hunt and pursue you to the ends of the earth, now!”

The student body, many on their way to lunch, stared gaping at the maniac. Danny smacked his face amongst the camera clicks and amazed chatter, then slid away, hiding. Easy to do when everyone was so focussed elsewhere.

“Seriously, were you itching for a fight that badly? Something go wrong with Ember again?” Phantom barked, flickering into visibility on the lawn. “I’ll have to find somewhere to sleep, now,” he scoffed at Skulker accusingly, “they’ll never leave the lawn alone now.”

Indeed, the student body had a general murmur: “it’s him.”

“Making a name for yourself here, too, whelp?” Skulker scoffed, firing off a few missiles.

Danny shrugged. “Not necessarily intentionally, I guess.” He frowned, turned to the student body, “and in case you were wondering, the name’s Phantom,” he declared. “Don’t want any repeats of Inviso-bill,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

The students were all gaping.

“You’ll get used to it,” Danny said, and set about frying Skulker’s mechanics.

#dp #danny phantom #phic #phic phight 2020 #phic phight 20 #danny phantom fic #fanfiction #quill #my writing

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timelord-winchester-22b · 4 years

Text

Careful and Oblivious

I?? Actually?? Wrote something??? I didn’t edit it though, as per usual, so uh, just ignore any and all obvious mistakes.

Anon request:

Could you write an Ianto Jones imagine where she likes him but he’s really oblivious to it and when they start arguing that she got hurt on a mission he just kisses her , thank you 💓 xx

I misread the prompt and the reader is the oblivious one but that works too~

It was, yet again, a mission at some ungodly hour of the morning. Sometimes you thought Jack got the ability to never require sleep when he became immortal. But then again, you had found him passed out on his desk after a long week before, so you supposed not. Either way, you weren't very happy with him calling you in at four in the morning, even if there had been a very unusual spike in rift activity nearby.

You were happy that you weren't the only one not enjoying the wake up call however, as Tosh didn't seem to appreciate it, and Owen was being very clear about the fact that he hated it. The only person other than Jack who seemed unbothered by the hour was Ianto. But he never seemed bothered by anything. There had been moments where you'd had a bad day and were ashamed to admit you had snapped at him once or twice, because stress came with your job. But he always took everything in his stride, and offered you tea, coffee and biscuits, whatever you wanted to cheer you up. He truly was a godsend in the worst parts of this job, and you couldn't imagine doing it without him. In fact, you couldn't imagine doing anything without him any more.

He had greeted you with your favorite hot drink already in hand as you headed right towards the Torchwood van, giving you a summary of what was going on. The others were just getting settled in the car and you gave Ianto a smile as you took your drink from him. You were well aware of the fact that you were supposed to be professional, and that you were supposed to be hurrying, but then he was there with his drinks and his smile and making sure you were okay and ready for the mission. Like he did for everyone else, right?

You thanked him sincerely, because someone should, and you couldn't help but pause when he lit up a little at the recognition. Purely because you were the only one on the team to regularly thank him for all the little things, no other reason. You jumped when Jack called your name, still standing outside the van whole everyone else was already in their own seats.

Going to climb inside Ianto called your name too and you turned.

"Just.. be careful. I know how you get when you're tired" he warned you. You gave him a smile and nodded, closing the door as you got yourself situated and Jack was already driving off.

"Alright, everyone make sure your comms are in working order" Jack started off, which you knew was code to listen up. You did so, of course, sipping your drink and trying to wake yourself up a bit more. "We're having Tosh stay in the car on computers, scanning the area and keeping an eye on local security camera feeds. Ianto will be helping her back at base, while keeping an eye on the rift itself. Owen, I'm going to drop you off first, I want you to move in on the signal from the west"

You perked up a little at the mention of your name, Jack glancing in the rearview mirror for half a second as he addressed you.

"You're going to be going in from the northeast, while I go from the southeast. The three of us will be moving on toward the signal sweeping the area for signs of anything unusual. If you do find anything, report in on the comms immediately and keep everyone updated, got it?"

Everyone muttered an agreement and you pressed your earpiece into your ear as the car was stopping for the first time and Owen was jumping out.

"You ready?" Jack asked you, glancing in his mirror again.

"Ready as I'll ever be at four in the morning"

"Just be careful" Ianto said again in your ear.

"Always am" you returned, throwing yourself out of the car and into action the moment Jack slowed for you.

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

Turns out you couldn't be ready enough at four in the morning. Or perhaps it was just one of those times that generally didn't work out the way you planned. Whatever it was, it landed you propped against the nearest storefront with Owen trying to apply pressure to a large gash down your side that was steadily losing blood. Jack was dealing with the alien that gave it to you. You never did find out what he did, because in the next moment he was there beside Owen, tearing up a piece of his shirt even as you tried to protest. It was a nice shirt.

He used the strip of material to secure one of Owen's shirts, which he'd already been using against the bloodflow, tightly to your side. You cried out at the flash of pain as he tied a knot to hold it in place, squirming against their hands as they attempted to reassure you. You could hear Ianto in your ear, who likely had little to no clue what was going on other than the fact that you were hurt. He was speaking to you, as he'd been doing this whole time, but you couldn't make out exactly what he was saying. He was always talking to you, reassuring you. This was just another day at the office, wasn't it?

Oh, no, you didn't tend to bleed out all over your co-workers shirts everyday.

Next thing you know Jack was picking you up as carefully as he could. You knew he couldn't help it, but you still cursed at him when a fresh stab of pain hit you at the movement. Red tinged at the edge of your vision as everyone's words became more urgent, but at the same time less defined. You were definitely having a hard time working out what Ianto was telling you. But you knew that his tone was reassuring, even though his voice was shaking.

You knew you should be trying to stay awake, how did you know that? Perhaps it was one of the things that you had worked out the team was saying. Oh yeah, there it was again, Ianto was saying it, his voice cracking a little. Oh, he sounded upset, why was that?

You could always just have a tiny nap, right? Just for a bit. It's not the end of the world, it's not like you wouldn't wake up.

Right?

Ianto was still talking when you fell asleep.

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

Ianto was still talking when you woke up. It made you wonder if he'd ever actually stopped. It seemed dark, which made you briefly wonder if you had been asleep all day, but in the base it was always dark unless the lights were all on. There was definitely a light on somewhere, because you could see the outline of a person sitting slumped over beside you, but there was no light on above you.

You shifted, trying to find out where the light was coming from, but a sharp stab of pain in your side had you suddenly stilling with a barely audible gasp. You were barely breathing now, as if hoping the pain would subside if you didn't move. But now that it had been remembered it was persisting.

A call of your name brought your attention from the pain back to the figure beside you that you had nearly forgotten about. Ianto moved so that he was pressing gently on your shoulders, trying to get you to lay back again. You shook him off, managing to sit up a little, but his grasp on your shoulders persisted.

“Slow down there” He cautioned you. “Just rest for a bit”

“I’m fine” You insisted.

“Oh yeah, you’re always fine just like you’re always careful” He muttered and you blinked in surprise.

“I’m-? what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about me telling you to be careful before every mission, and the fact that you never are, you’re always throwing yourself headfirst into danger before you even think about it.”

“Jack throws himself into danger all the time” you scoffed. “way more than I do, you never yell at him”

“Jack comes back when he dies! You don’t! If you died I would lose you!

You both paused when he’d finished, and he faltered.

“I mean we- the team- would lose you, But you still won’t listen to me” He gave another gentle push against your shoulders to demonstrate, but when you shifted to sit up more he adjusted his hold to steady you upright.

“Ianto… you, the team… none of you are going to lose me anytime soon, okay?”

“How can I believe that after what happened today? I thought… I thought it had already happened” He looked down, avoiding meeting your eye and you felt an ache in your heart when you realized he was crying. You felt yourself tearing up in response, reaching out to take his face in your hands, you pulled him forward to rest his forehead against yours before taking one of his hands and moving it from your shoulder to your pulse on your neck. He moved on instinct to feel your heartbeat properly under his fingers. You hoped he couldn’t feel how it stuttered and sped up at the action, but the important thing right now was to remind him that you were here.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t have to. He understood what you were doing and when he met your eyes finally you could see how grateful he was for it. What you also saw was his gaze flickering down to your lips, and you were sure he felt your heart stop for half a second that time. When he leaned in to kiss you it was slow and sweet, but desperation built quickly and the kiss deepened. Until, of course, you tried to reach up to run your fingers through his hair and the stitches in your side tugged unpleasantly at the movement. You gasped in pain and Ianto pulled away immediately, taking your hand and placing it in your lap to remove the strain. His wide eyes searched yours before scanning your bandages, one hand lifting the side of your shirt just enough.

“I should tell Owen you’re awake, get you some painkillers” He suggested, his voice definitely a degree rougher than it was a moment ago. You smiled at the sound. “Good idea” You nodded “Painkillers sound good” Ianto pulled away agonizingly slowly, one hand still clasped in yours until the very last moment, and he kept his eyes on you until he’d left the room completely, like if he let you out of his sight for too long he would lose you this time.

“We can.... Continue this when you’ve healed a little more” He said just before you lost sight of him. You couldn’t help the smirk that crossed your face at that. You couldn't wait.

#torchwood #torchwood x reader #x reader #reader insert #torchwood reader insert #doctor who #ianto jones #ianto jones x reader #ianto x reader

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