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mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

Atsumu + Alcohol

If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>

He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!

Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)

——————

Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu

⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)

Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“I think we should break up.”

(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head.��He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.

“...ok.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”

“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”

“But...can I at least know why?”

The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.

“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”

“I think I found a girl I really like.”

(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...

“Ah.”

Was all he could say.

——

Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.

“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”

Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”

Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.

“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.

“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up.

“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”

“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table.

“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”

Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“

“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”

Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.

“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”

“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.

“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”

“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink.

Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print.

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”

——

“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home.

Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.

Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car.

“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”

“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?”

Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”

“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”

Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”

Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove.

“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.

“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”

Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”

Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”

Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”

(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.

“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”

Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”

“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”

Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm.

“Let’s go. You need rest.”

The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.

——

Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away.

“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself.

Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”

“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”

“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.”

Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.

“Oh.”

“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”

“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”

Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.

“...What makes sense now?”

Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”

Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.

Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone.

“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.

“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”

Atsumu stared at Kenma.

“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”

“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing.

Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus.

“How...did you get-”

“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”

“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”

“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”

“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.

“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”

“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”

Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged.

“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow.

Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.

——

Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more.

“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”

“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket.

Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”

“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”

“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”

The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”

(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk.

“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”

“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”

“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”

Atsumu nodded vigorously.

(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.

So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine.

What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to.

(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.

Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet.

“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.”

Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.

“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”

(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“You look cold.”

“I’m...really not.”

“S’comfier on the bed.”

“...I like this chair.”

“I can scoot over-”

“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”

Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice.

“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”

When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that.

Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot.

Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed.

“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”

“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”

(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?

He was.

(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life.

(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again.

(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.

Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”

(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:

“I love you too.”

“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”

(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”

“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night.

“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”

“...”

(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.

“...huh…?”

Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”

“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”

“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”

“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”

(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed.

He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”

“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”

Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor.

“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”

He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”

“...Wait, n-no you-”

Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw.

Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try.

“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”

“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”

“I did too.”

They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone.

He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer.

‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’

“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”

Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!”

He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.

“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.

“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”

And he didn’t.

Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.

——————

I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,

Lil thing I found funny

#hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x male reader #hq sakusa #msby 4 #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu male reader #hq atsumu #atsumu x male reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu angst #atsumu miya x male reader #miya atsumu x male reader #miya atsumu

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ohheyfullmetal · 4 years

Text

some dumb bnha headcanons i wrote down during algebra last year

•uraraka floating to the ceiling and/or making furniture and other people do the same when she’s asleep

•shigaraki disintegrating doorknobs, toga thinks it’s hilarious, kurogiri has receipts with just,,,, DOORKNOBS

•that’s what afo really pays him for

•lmao like he pays him rest in peace oboro

•aizawa uses erasure unintentionally whenever he’s angry (or he does it on purpose because red eyes scare the kids and it brings him pleasure)

•dark shadow randomly joining in on class discussions and spilling tokoyami’s darkest secrets including his hawks shrine

•he and izuku make shrines together

•midoriya has freaky green lightening crackling up his arms and I’m trying to sleep, mr aizawa

•denki getting unnaturally jittery during thunderstorms. sometimes he causes a power outage.

•the man sucks the energy from power cables on a daily basis and charges his friends phones godbless

•katsuki’s banned from being sick because his sweat could cause the dorms to explode. same with his gym socks

•”why are these cats laying on me” -todoroki

•air conditioner and heater but he never feels like the right temperature, and it flares up (especially his ice) when he’s angry

•naomasa uses his quirk to his advantage whenever he can don’t lie

•he’ll know

•literally that’s his quirk

•sato is dorm mom, as we know, but,,, a quarter of UA’s budget is sugar for his cakes

•nezu gets some whenever sato bakes so he doesn’t really give a fuck that it’s taking all the school’s combat supplies

•momo shares her clothes with all of the girls especially ochako because the poor (no pun intended) girl is broke af

•tsuyu eats bugs and it freaks present mic and all might out but aizawa kind of vibes with it

•”TSU WHY ARE YOU LICKING YOUR EYES”

•kirishima accidentally using his quirk in his sleep and tearing his sheets by tossing and turning

•jirou has sensory overload and aizawa

has tea and blankets on standby send headcanon

•everyone loves shouji and he drinks respect women juice every day.

•he thinks he’s ugly but everyone loves him.

•sometimes his arms get in the way.

•doorways are a nightmare because his arms are so wide and he’s so fucking tall

•everyone just vibes with it tho

•secretly nicknamed kakashi

•”SHITTY NERDS HE’S OBVIOUSLY THAT STUPID GRUNT THAT KIDNAPPED PUSSY BOY SASUKE”

•”kacchan, you watch naruto?!”

•we know that mina sneezes acid

•that’s a recipe for disaster in itself

•sero loves this really old movie with this american hero named spiderman

•tape webshooters

•dispenser hair is brought into the shrine cult,,, but make it animal crossing

•”hey bakubro you really look like marshall”

•”WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY TO ME SHITTY HAIR I’LL KILL YOU AND STUPID DEKU”

•”kacchan i didn’t even say anything!”

•”YEAH, AND??”

•tokoyami has a grave for midoriya in the dorm courtyard just in case

•todoroki brings flowers there every day

•”um todoroki i’m not dead”

•”i know.”

•”what”

•aizawa puts all his kids in therapy

•mina’s therapist recommends television as a distraction

•”fuck” -aizawa

•the entire class ends up watching the entirety of subbed sofia the first

•aizawa kind of likes it tbh

•everyone screams when he mentions prince james at dinner: how the hELL DOES HE KNOW WHO THAT IS

•izuku nags bakugou to make katsudon every night bc it’s his favorite

•bakugou’s is really spicy like his mom’s, since inko learned the recipe from mitsuki

•sometimes bakugou WILL make katsudon for deku because he’s a closet softie and secretly feels bad for being so mean to izuku before everything at ua happened

•he won’t admit that but kirishima knows and thinks it’s sweet

•kiri is trying to get them to be friends again

•katsuki says NO. and dyes kirishima’s hair purple in retaliation

•in solidarity with shark boy, all of 1a dyes their hair purple

•even bakugou, eventually

•shinsou is really fucking confused

•the general studies classes think it’s because 1a wants shinsou in the hero course

•the support classes just think everyone in 1a is actually in love with shinsou because of his new abs

•i mean 👀

•izuku misses his mom :(

•at least he has his all might body pillow

•and all might who begs bakugou to burn it

•if it’s kacchan it won’t be suspicious

•”just ask for a hug kiddo I’m literally one building away???”

•1a adopts eri and she moves to the student dorms with her 19 siblings

•mineta literally just drops the hero course after the lov kidnaps bakugou he’s done with ua

•that’s what i did with my ap music theory class oops

•ua’s done with him

•kouta punches him in the balls on midoriya’s request

•he really is the future number one hero

•1a is slightly horrified because this is deku who cried over an ant dying

•actually he cries over everything

•which just makes them even more horrified

•but not opposed to it at all

•kirishima records it

•movie night is once a week and it’s the top pick

•shinsou moves to 1a with his “i have no intention of making friends” family

•rumours are it’s because of the whole hair dyeing incident

•no seriously, even aizawa participated, nezu had no choice at that point

•shinsou knows that it was just a prank that went too far but goes along with the rumors anyway just to fuck with people

•”yeah, i’m dating everyone in 1a”

•”WE KNEW IT”

•hatsume was the one who started that rumor btw

•eri has her newest big brother

•this one is very tired deku please force him to sleep

•mirio gets his quirk back and heads off to help at nighteye’s agency during school breaks

•but he comes back to visit 1a and eri so much that it’s like he’s not even gone

•halloween comes

•aizawa is dorothy from the wizard of oz because hizashi wanted to be toto

•all might risks his life

•”eraserhead! may i see those red heels of yours?!”

•he gets red eyes instead

•is it his quirk or are they just bloodshot??

•who knows

•shinsou dresses as “himself but happy” which is just foundation over his baggy eyes and a horrible yellow smiley face t-shirt

•eri is lemillion for all hallow’s eve and deku for halloween

•deku cries

•mirio also cries but only amajiki knows

•she tells aizawa that she had to be the heroes who rescued her this year, but promises she’ll dress as him next time because he’s her hero too

•aizawa cries to midnight and hizashi for three hours straight

•they didn’t even know he could cry

•hizashi freaks out because he thinks aizawa’s quirk malfunctioned or something and almost takes him to the hospital

•”i haven’t felt emotions in years, what are these children doing to me!!”

•midnight just awkwardly pats him on the back and gets him a beer

•then she goes back to playing candy crush so hizashi can handle it

•she’s on level 2,487

•todoroki is only one level behind

•he plays one level of candy crush for every time his dad is an asshole

•he downloaded it two weeks ago

#roy mustang

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years

Text

Reticence (soft! Yandere Hoseok)

Summary: You were always terrified of getting kidnapped when you were younger, and now that you’ve been taken by a man who claims to want to take care of you, you recede within yourself so far you refuse to even eat... but Hoseok is determined to let nothing hurt you, not even yourself.

Warnings: Kidnapping, kind of Stockholm syndrome, mentions of not eating so if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff pls be careful <3 Yandere behaviour, though I am kind of romanticising it in this fic, please remember that that is all it is: Fiction. Obviously in real life this behaviour would be unacceptable and horrifying.

Word Count: 2.2K

Masterlist :)

a/n: my first hobi fic!!! this is for @kpopgirlbtssvt from a request made about a billion years ago (sorry :/ ) for made-for-each-other verse! Yandere Hobi with a shy reader who wouldn’t talk even though he begged her to, and then him coming home from work to her telling him she missed him and was glad he was home. this was a lil less fluffy and a lil more angsty than i intended, but its still a ‘happy ending’ bc im a weak bitch with simple pleasures, what can i say lmao

Reticence

“What do you want for breakfast, sunshine?”

Silence.

Hoseok sighed, then straightened up again, walking over to the refrigerator. You remained sat by the kitchen island, empty gaze fixed on the marble countertop.

“Omelettes it is, then!” He exclaimed with artificial excitement, trying to be cheery in the face of your taciturnity, but even the sunshiney optimist that was Hoseok was finding it more difficult than he expected. He had hoped that by now you would’ve accepted him, but you remained as quiet and unresponsive as the day he brought you home. Not that you thought of it as ‘home’ yet, but he hoped you would eventually. Hoseok was not a patient man, but he was willing to wait forever for you.

You didn’t even blink when he set the plate down in front of you. It didn’t seem like you were going to attempt to eat it either. Hoseok sighed. He could understand if you didn’t want to talk to him yet — even though it had been months and he’d been nothing but kind to you — but he drew the line at refusing to eat.

You had lost weight. The cute cheeks he loved to watch bunch up as you smiled were now sunken. Your beautiful figure which he had admired from afar was starting to become worryingly waif-like. Hoseok frowned, a crinkle between his brows forming for the first time as his usually exuberant features warped with agitation.

“Listen, Y/n-” Hoseok sat down at the kitchen island across from you, bracing his forearms against the table and leaning forwards. “You have to eat. I promise there’s nothing in it that could hurt you. Look, I’ll even eat it myself!” Hoseok carved out a small piece of the omelette and popped it in his mouth, exaggerating his chewing and swallowing. “See?” You offered no reaction, and Hoseok felt his disappointment join the omelette on its way down to his stomach.

“I can understand that you maybe aren’t so happy with me right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Just, please, please stop shutting me out.” His pleading tone did nothing to move you. You just sat there like a ghost, and a groan of frustration slipped out of Hoseok.

“Please! I’m begging you! Just eat! I don’t understand, all I want to do is take care of you! All I want to do is love you, why won’t you accept me? Why won’t you even talk to me?”

The only sound was Hoseok’s harsh breaths after his outburst. If he couldn’t see the slow rise and fall of your chest, Hoseok would think you weren’t alive at all. He slumped in his seat, allowing himself to wallow in self-pity for a moment, before forcing himself to get up and ready for work. When he passed through the kitchen again on his way out the door you were still sitting there, staring at the countertop.

The front door banged shut, the sound echoing in the apartment. Then, silence. And then, very quietly, the noises of cutlery moving against a plate and chewing.

~~~~~~

“I don’t know what to do~” Hoseok whined, his head buried in his hands. Around him, his shocked friends were gathered in an informal circle. Each of them had an expression with varying degrees of surprise and confusion — they had never seen Hoseok, the literal personification of sunshine, so dismayed.

“It’ll be ok, Hoseok. I know it’s bad at the moment, but you just have to wait until she trusts you. Once you achieve her trust, you’ll both be the happiest you’ve ever been.” Taehyung reassured him. Taehyung was obviously the source of authority, since him and his wife were basically the perfect couple.

“But what if she never trusts me?” Hoseok fretted, before groaning again. “She won’t even eat! I don’t know what to do, I’m just watching her slowly starve in front of me and she won’t even look at me!” The rest of the group paused as they digested this new information. It seemed this girl was particularly stubborn.

“Force feed her then.” Jin shrugged and Hoseok’s head shot up in outrage.

“No! I could never hurt her like that!”

“You’re hurting her by letting her starve.” Jeongguk pointed out, and Namjoon smacked the back of his head, chastising. Meanwhile, Hoseok looked like he was about to cry.

“Listen, Hoseok, are you sure this girl is the one?” Jimin questioned, bracing his clasped hands on his knees.

“I know she is.” Hoseok replied with a conviction he rarely used. “The second she came into my life, it was like I was born again and she was the first thing I saw. The only thing I could see. Her face- God, it just… glows. She’s like sunshine. She’s an angel. She’s so beautiful and kind and fragile and I want to protect her from everything, and I don’t deserve her but no one else does either and I know we’re meant to be together. If I thought I could’ve let her go, I would have. But I can’t. I have to have her, she has to be mine.”

The circle of men was quiet for a second, before a quiet chuckle broke the silence.

“Well then,” Yoongi rasped, “if she’s all that you say she is-”

“She is.” Hoseok interjected fiercely.

“Then all you can do is have a little patience.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was incredibly boring being kidnapped. Especially when your kidnapper did nothing interesting except make bad food and dance along to music from the TV surprisingly well and cry sometimes when you wouldn’t look at him. Frankly, it would have been easier if he were more of the torturey-type, because it was really hard to stay stubborn in the face of his sparkling eyes and radiant smile.

When you were younger, there was a poster up on the wall of your homeroom at school. On it was an old man with an ugly sneer and a beige trench-coat, with the slogan ‘DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS’ superimposed in glaring red letters. You used to stare up at the poster and wonder how anyone could be so stupid as to talk to someone who looked like that.

You were never afraid to yell ‘STRANGER DANGER’ at the highest decibel your little lungs could manage whenever a person brushed too close to you in the mall. It was almost a habit — you were avidly fixated on your own personal safety, much to your mother’s chagrin and public embarrassment. Being banned from all the surrounding stores within a 20 mile radius had two consequences:

You had to drive forty minutes for a new pair of socks.

You stayed at home a lot more than you went out.

You became a homebody, and it was certainly not something you were unhappy about. Staying safe in your room meant there was less risk for someone to kidnap you. The comforting layer of your blanket was a shield from everything bad in the world. When your parents were arguing constantly, screaming at each other every other night, you would just tuck yourself in and read a bedtime story on your own since they were both occupied. When your parents eventually divorced, you buried yourself under your duvet rather than answer their questions about who you wanted to stay with, and what your preference was. When your mom died in a car crash, and your dad started drinking, your mattress was the shoulder you could cry on, your blanket was a warm arm holding you close. You had always felt safe in your bed. Perhaps that was why you were having such an averse reaction to being taken from it.

Hoseok was not a man with an ugly sneer and a trench coat. He had an impeccable sense of style, and his smile was breathtaking on the few occasions that it appeared. You more often saw his face twisted into a pained grimace. For a kidnapper, he was awfully sensitive. You were pretty sure it was reasonable for you to be holding grudge, and it’s not as if you were actively fighting against him or anything. You were just refusing to acknowledge him. You were highly skilled at repressing things, or ignoring them, and you were resolved to do the same now.

By 7 o’ clock, your resolve was slightly eroded. Hoseok always arrived back at half-past 5 on the dot. He was a very punctual person, and you felt an unwelcome sense of worry curl along the edges of your mind as the clock counted away the seconds of him not being there. You remembered feeling the same way when you waited for your mom to pick you up from your dads, watching the clock hand sweep past the numbers, increasingly taunting. Of course, you hadn’t realised that she was at the time caught in between a lorry with a drunk driver and a very steep incline. You wondered if you were being similarly clueless now.

When the door clicked open at quarter to 9, you had to restrain yourself from exhaling in relief. Hoseok came in looking slightly disheveled, his collar undone and his hair mussed as if he had ran his hands through it over and over again. He gave you a quick once over to see if you were alright, shot you a small, forced smile and then went straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

That was odd. He never closed the door to his bedroom. He had always left it open in case you needed anything, despite your refusal to acknowledge him. First, his late arrival and now yet another uncommon action? You felt curiosity bubble within you. That was it. Curiosity. It’s not that you were at all worried about him, you were just being nosy. Of course.

You tiptoed towards the door, tracing a finger around the door frame lightly. What if he didn’t even come out again for dinner? You doubted he had dined out without you, he had been eating his meals sitting across from you while you refused to touch yours since the day he stole you. You really should check on him, if only for the fact that if he dies then you’re trapped here with a high chance of starvation.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you opened the door and stepped inside. The only light-source came from the moonlight filtering through the window, casting Hoseok’s form lying on the bed in a deep blue. His eyes, which you assumed had been closed previously, shot open to observe you as he propped himself up on the backs of his forearms.

“Y/n.” He rasped, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “D-do you need anything?” His tone was both excited and confused, probably because you had literally never directly interacted with him before.

You didn’t speak, and for the first time your silence was due to speechlessness, rather than a conscious desire.

“I-I, uh,” You stuttered, and Hoseok sat up ramrod straight, hearing your voice for the first time. “You… were late home.”

Hoseok felt like he couldn’t breathe. Your voice was so soft and pretty, fuck, and you were actually looking at him, you were actually talking to him, holy shit- and you called the apartment home. You said he was late ‘home’. Hoseok somehow managed to keep his shit together.

“I was?”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a small nod of your head. Fuck, you were so cute. “You normally come back at half five. It’s almost nine now.”

“I’m sorry. I was working late.” He was staying at the office because he felt guilty for not taking proper care of you and wanted to avoid seeing the proof of your unhappiness, but you didn’t need to know that.

“It’s ok.”

You remained standing at the foot of the bed, locked in his gaze. The bed looked so comfortable, moulding to support his body, and his warm body was exactly the comforting presence you were searching for all those years ago and you found yourself asking,

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

It was a quiet, timid suggestion but Hoseok reacted to it like a bombshell. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets and his entire body tensed. You were about to rescind your offer when he reached out a tugged a corner of the blanket down, welcoming you into the warmth.

You awkwardly sat on the edge of the mattress, nudging off your house slippers with your toes before slipping under the covers. The relief was instantaneous, shrouded in comforting and familiar warmth, and you couldn’t stop yourself from plastering yourself against his side, arm reaching out tentatively to rest on his chest. You felt his muscles jump under your touch, before his arm slid under you and tucked around your shoulders, drawing you into him closer. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet little sigh, and you let yourself say the words you wish you could’ve said all those years ago when your mother never returned.

“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #yandere hoseok x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #jung hoseok

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aquaticalay · 5 years

Text

Old Flames Die Hard (The Mandalorian x reader)

Summary: You've only seen Din Djarin's face once before, when you were younger. Now he shows up at your door looking for shelter, and he can't help but crave your touch.

Warning: fluffy smut and blindfolding. Bit of angst :)

Word count: 2.6k

Note: literally no one asked for this, but I'm in love with Mando, so enjoy! :)))

Also I'm reuploading this bcs tumblr apparently hates me and they took this off the tags

Your peaceful reading was disturbed by the sound of a firm knock on your door. You look. away from you scrolls, wondering who might be here this early in the morning.

Walking to the front door of your hut, you peek from the hole of the door viewer to check who it was.

A familiar helmet and figure stood on the other side of the door. You inhale sharply because the figure was too familiar.

What could he want from you? After all this time?

You open the door, an inevitable warm smile plastered to your face.

"Hello," you say, keeping your composure straight.

"Hello, (Y/n)," he greets. You could see how tense he becomes. You wish you could see his reaction, his emotions through the helmet, but you know better.

"What are you doing in Takodana?" You ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

So she still has it, Mando thinks to himself, those hypnotic eyes full of wonder. A gaze he had not been able to resist then.

"I need a place to lay low," he tells you. If there was ever a coldness to his voice, it was easing.

"Why—" you start to say, but was interrupted by a small, adorable squeal of a small, pale green child with eyes bigger than his nose and ears longer than his arms.

You knelt down. "Hi, little one," you coo, letting its tiny tridactyl hands curl on your pointer finger. "Where did Mando find you, hm?" You added.

"Are we welcomed inside?" Mando asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. You lifted the infant, rocking him gently in your arms.

You nod. "Of course. Come in."

You lay the child on a bed of fur, making sure he is comfortable. When you pull your arms away from the child, it let out a high-pitched noise. It didn't want you to go.

You shush him attentively. "It's okay," you say quietly, "I am not leaving, I will be right here."

Even with your back facing Mando, you could feel his piercing stare.

When the child yawned and relaxed, you let him rest. You take a seat on a table not far from him, where Mando was sitting across from you.

"So," you cross you arms on your chest, "Why are you running this time?"

"The child is a bounty," he tells you.

"Ah," you say, leaning back on your chair. "You helped him escape?"

He nods.

To an extent, knowing Mando rescued this child restored your faith in him. You shake your head, letting out a cynical chuckle. "This is why I am a bounty hunter no more."

"What are you now?" He asks. For the first time since he got here, you can hear that he still cares.

"A scholar," you answer lightly. "I teach travelers now."

He nods again, but does not answer with words.

"Tell me more, Mando," you start to say, "about what you've been up to."

And he does just that for the next hour or so. You listen intently, lost in his tales of exciting adventures.

You excuse yourself to your room, telling him that you needed rest after a long night of reading scrolls. You made it clear that he could knock anytime, and he could sleep to the next room if he wanted to.

You lay on the bed, trying to rest.

You could not. Not with the Mandalorian out there. Too many memories, good and bad, about him, and with him.

After fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on the door.

You sit up immediately, "Come in."

The door creaks open, and Mando steps in. A full second passed before you stood up, and it was easily the longest second of your life.

"The child is asleep," he states. His voice slightly falters, revealing the possibility of a hidden intention.

You step closer to him, until there is so little space between the two of you, not even a scroll could fit in the middle.

You both know neither of you could hold back the unspoken silence. After all, you can't just pretend that what happened between the two of you never happened.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, his voice quivering.

You have tried to be strong, but now a pearl-like tear slid down your face. You let your arm rest on his beskar helmet, where the line of his jaw would be. "Just curious," you manage to say, "of how you've changed. How you look like now, Din."

At the mention of his birth name, his breathing hitched. As far as he was concerned, you were the only one alive who knew his name, aside from the creed.

Years ago, the night before you left the guild, you were faced with a similar situation.

You told him you were going to leave. He met you in your quarters, and there, he had given you permission to lift his helmet off his head.

You had admired him. The first and only time you saw him, you noticed how beautiful he was, strong and mature features with a boyish smile. At that point, you were convinced the Maker accidentally made an angel in the place of a human.

You kissed him that night, all tongue and teeth clashing in desperation, and you had taken him to your bed, to have one last night with him. Limbs tangled and fingers entwined, he had declared his love to you, and you did, too. Neither you nor him regretted it. The only thing you wish you could do was take him with you when you escaped the guild. You left the day after, with a heavy heart and a memory that was damn near impossible to forget.

He was an old flame that died hard.

Only for you, he had broken his vow.

You had kept it a secret since.

You have to make sure it stayed a secret, or the Mandalorians will not let his put his helmet back on.

Now, his hands are on either side of his helmet. He slowly slides it up. "Why don't you find out?" He asks, almost taunting, challenging.

Before he could lift his helmet too far off, you gently brought both your hands over his, and pulled the steel dome back down.

"No," you let out a ghostly whisper. "Don't."

"Do you not lov— want me anymore?" His voice shatters. That's how you know that he is as heartbroken as you. "Is there someone else?" He asks, his voice straining.

"No," you say. The dam behind your eyes broke, tears dropping off your chin. It wasn't crying, no. It was the beginning of a desolate sobbing that came from a person who had built a wall over their emotions. "There has never been anyone but you, Din. There will never be."

He pushed his gloves off, the metal pieces carelessly clanging to the floor. His calloused fingers wiped your tears away, rubbing circles on your skin. "Then I ask for your permission to do this once again."

You step back, and his hand falls back hopelessly to his sides.

"I want to," you whisper, only barely audible, "But I will not. For your sake. I will not let you break your vow again."

"You did not mind when you held me that night, in Navarro." His voice is now softer, defeated. He will not ask again, if you do not wish to, but he had to know why.

You hold his hand. You step forward again, this time the gesture was more certain. "We were young. I did not understand what the Mandalorians meant back then. I am a scholar, Din. I learn, especially from my mistakes," Gently, you kisse his palm. It's a show of affection, and Din let you.

By any means, you did not think he was a mistake. The night you spent wasn't a mistake either. The mistake was simply your lack of experience. Your lack of knowledge.

You continue, "I did not respect the Mandalorians enough, then. I did not respect you enough. I do now."

He moves his hand, and you let it wander your facial features.

His hand moves to your hair. He unties your headband, a piece of cloth that held your locks together. You hair spill on over your eyes, and he tucks them behind your ears.

Oh, you thought to yourself.

Your mouth opened a little, realizing his intentions. His finger went under your chin, lifting it up. "Do you know what I'm about to do?"

He asks, his voice as coarse as sand.

"Yes," you admit.

"Would you let me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?" He asks one last time.

You have never been more certain, "Yes."

Slowly, but surely, he covers your eyes with the cloth of your headband. He tied a knot on the back of your head, not too tight to hurt you, but tight enough so it wouldn't fall off.

He was a smart man, and still is.

"Can you see?" He asks.

"No," you reply honestly. Almost breathless, you thank the Maker that the questions he's been asking doesn't need more than a one-word answer at a time.

"Can I take my helmet off now?"

"Yes," you sigh. You can hear him taking it off and you assumed he laid it on the floor.

You gasp when you felt your lips against his, cold and desperate. Isolated, almost. You could feel the relief in his touch. He cups your cheeks, pulling you up towards him. What he looked like, you did not care. You know that this is him, at the fact alone is enough. It was the same person you made love to all those years ago. You know because you remember every waking moment of it.

You let the kiss become feverish and heated, placing your hand blindly on his shoulders and around his neck. You did not need to see him to know that he was smiling against your lips, that his cheeks was just as soaked with tears as yours.

Low groans unintentionally flutter out of his mouth, music to your ears.

Your hands make their way to his cheeks, caressing the rough skin. Stripped of your sight, you trail you fingers on his cheekbones and jawline to get a sense of what he looks like now.

He pulls apart from the kiss, and you manage to hold on to his shoulders for support. You felt his hot breath against your temple, and you shiver because of it.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks, hopeful but uncertain. His voice is clear now, unmodulated and raw. Easier to read.

"I want this. You, Din," you whisper, raspy words dripping in desperation, "please."

Gently, his hands dance to your hips, gently squeezing it. He steps forward, pushing you until you feel your blanket and bed on the back of your feet.

He drags the invisible weight off your shoulders, making you sit down on your bed.

You let go of him for a split second, feeling lost in the dark. Then, you hear the unmistakable clutter of beskar on the floor. Piece by piece, he placed it on the ground, his adrenaline pumping from the sight of you attentively waiting for his to strip himself off his heavy armor.

When the soft metallic noises stop and you felt his hands on your waist, you knew he was done. His hands went to your fabric belt, the only thing that held your robe together. Untying it, he pushes the article clothing off, until you were completely bare to him.

"My love." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, mouth trailing down to your nose, then to your lips. This time he doesn't hesitate, and he knocks the air straight out of your lungs. You return it with just as much passion, encouraging him to come closer.

He opens his mouth, and you feel his tongue brush on yours, fiery and longing. He pushed even further, and you let him, until your the crown of your head hits the soft pillow beneath. You can feel him hover, shifting half of his weight on you. You let his mouth leave kisses down your neck, biting once in a while as he goes.

It was hard to think of him as a battle-hardened bounty hunter now that he was over you, peppering loving kisses, making sure you were taken care of.

Your hands travel you his curly locks. You massage his scalp, tugging ever so slightly. You imagine his chestnut hair, the same color you've seen before, maybe with a few grey hairs given by time.

"Din," you manage to say, "Please. I can't take it anymore."

You feel him lick a stripe from your collarbone to your jawline, nipping at your skin. "Patience, my love," he mutters in your ear, pressing his teeth to you earlobe.

You shudder, heart thumping faster than your ribcage can handle.

You drag your hands down, raking his bare back. Caving into his touch, you feel your heat pooling between your legs.

You bite your lip instinctively, holding a moan. He does not say anything, but you knew it drove him crazy.

His hand rub on your lips, and you take advantage by pressing your tone on the pad of his finger.

"You're as beautiful as I remember," he admits. He sounds a bit sad.

He should've gone to find you sooner. If he could turn back time, that was the only thing he'd change.

You reply with a long purr.

His left palm runs down, squeezing your hips.

"No need for foreplay?" He asks, and you swear you could hear a hint of amusement in his voice, perhaps to cheer himself up. He probably noticed how wet you were, how submissive and desperate.

"No," you yelp, feeling his length against your core, "Just make love to me."

He takes the consent, sliding his cock into you. You mewl, trying your best to steady yourself, hands holding on to his back. He moves when you beg him to, rapidly slamming into you. It was slow at first, but your otherworldly moans encourage him to go faster.

His legs tangled with yours, he rocks up and down, providing counter-resistance. His rhythm ends you into cloud nine, sultry and irresistable. His hips move in a figure-8 motion, his pubic bone stimulating your bundle of nerves with explosive friction.

His breath was as heavy as yours. His lips latch on your shoulder, burying his neck into your shoulder. He does this to suppress his filthy moans so he doesn't wake the child. You, on the other hand, was forced to bite your lip, swallowing your groans.

"Din," you whisper, tone going up in pitch.

"I know, I know," he licks the shell of your ear, "Come with me."

His voice undid you, becoming the catalyst of your long-awaited satisfaction.

He rides your high, coming only a few seconds later. His heavy moans turning fulfilled breathing.

He drops to the space next to you, your back pressed to his chest, his hands secured around your waist, you own hands on top of them, rubbing comforting circles.

The blindfold on you is still tightly wrapped, not losing its integrity at all. Frankly, you don't mind. You did not have to see him to enjoy his company. That's how much you trust him.

"Promise me," you say, your voice only barely audible, "that this is not the last time."

"I promise," he hums, his nose affectionately pressed into your hair.

You did not need to hear him say 'I love you' to know that he does.

-end

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagines #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

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mingying · 5 years

Text

Ep 12 Spoilers!!!

IM WRITING THIS WITH TEARS IN MY EYES oh my god I can't believe this drama is making me feel so many things. On to my favourite moments from this episode, in no particular order just what I remember from the top of my head:

1) The recount of what the soldier gang each did in their attempts to locate Seri is HILARIOUS. I really lost it at Gwangbeom getting agency scouting cards from SN/YJ/JYB HAHAHAHA EVEN THE CARD DESIGNS ARE SIMILAR ISTG THIS DRAMA

2) Junghyuk and Eundong playing that online game tgt without even realising is the cutest thing pls TOMATO CULTIVATOR?!AJZKAK Junghyuk really thought of that as his username aka the plant the love of his life gave him I'm yelling!!!

3) Seo Dan's mother's "good morning" and "oh my gosh" cracked me up, I really really love her random English outbursts.

4) Dan saying if Seungjun is lying about him being sick/cold he would get it but then proceeds to bringing food for him and that whole porridge scene between them ugh their dynamics really SNAPPED, I LOVE THIS PAIRING SO MUCH it's such a breath of fresh air that kdramas don't create unnecessary love square/triangle and just focus on developing both couples. I love it!

5) The drinking scene between our favourite riri couple...I had so much feels pls the fact that he told her STRAIGHT UP that he doesn't want to leave the south and that he wants to MARRY her, have CHILDREN THAT LOOKS LIKE HER AND THEN SAYING HE WANTS TWINS IM--- HOWDKKSKS I'VE BEEN GIVING MY ENTIRE LIFE AND NOW I'M FINALLY RECEIVING ;___;

6) I started tearing up when the ahjumma gang each brought something for Young Ae who is sort of in a house arrest now. And her asking them to leave before breaking down seeing all of them coming to help her?? Like, man, I didn't expect this scene to move me so much but it did and now I just want all of them to be happy please they deserve it :(((

7) THE REUNION SCENE OF OUR FAV BOYS AND SERI PLSSSSS when she asked Chi Su to just hug her and he did it while grumbling I think my heart just COMBUSTED with happiness. Finally. FINALLY!!! Also ps I laughed when Junghyuk got jealous of all of them hugging Seri for so long that he broke their hug apart lmaooo

8) The insurance guy getting what he deserves TT I actually was so touched when Seri was looking at the CCTV recordings and then reading the notes he left for her secretary to read like ahhh I know he did it for his work but when Seri said that he was just a stranger but looked tirelessly for her and was maybe two of the only ppl that wanted her to be alive...ugh my heart, my heart!!!

9) Seri's mom is despicable but... I don't exactly hate her? Like ugh she was so damn heartless to leave a child on the beach the entire cold, night...but honestly I'm just glad she's at least trying to redeem herself now even if Seri didn't believe her. I think what really got to me was when Seri apologised for being born into the world, for even breathing. How devastating can that be honestly? :( I just wanna hug her.

10) and then we get THAT birthday surprise scene (I sort of predicted it would happen bc no way they would leave so early...) but what I didn't expect is to start UGLY CRYING like literally my TEARS were just rolling down my cheeks at Seri completely breaking down bc she came home to an empty house and the thought of Junghyuk having left her was too much for her to bear. ON HER BIRTHDAY TOO! I was aboutta throw hands--

11) AND THEN THE LIGHTS CAME ON AND THEY ALL CAME OUT LOOKING GUILTY AF and I started laughing again bc Chi Su holding that penguin plush toy and then hitting Joo Meok with it bc he was the one that suggested they surprised her akzkaksk I LOVE MY SOLDIER BOYS OK

12) okay okay okay I know this is cliche af but I am fcking WEAK for back hugs. It's one of my favorite tropes and to see that happening in this episode...I have officially ascended into heaven.

13) how sweet is it that Junghyuk told Seri that every birthday of hers will be a good day bc it is a reminder that the woman he loves was born on that day, and is alive and well? Holy shit I cannot fathom how good this line is because it is a parallel to all that Seri said about apologising for being born and being alive bc she thought no one loved her?? But then you have Junghyuk who assured her that in this world HE will ALWAYS be grateful that she is part of the world AND is alive. How important is this scene for Seri who has always had suicidal thoughts? I cannot stress how much this scene moved me like I know I'm dramatic af rn but those are words she needed to hear and he gave them to her and I just--

I need to lie down and cry into my pillow now knowing there is no such perfect man like ri junghyuk that exists in real life

#crash landing of love #crash landing on you #ri junghyuk x yoon seri #my otp #episode 12 recap #ramblings #im still crying ok #god i love this drama sfm #kdrama

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wkemeup · 5 years

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Guiding Light (5)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7.9k warnings: torture, angst™, a fluffy flashback bc it’s seriously needed 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

O N E M O N T H L A T E R

Bucky was covered in sweat. Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead and an awful pain in his left thigh from where a knife was currently embedded into the muscle. He let out a guttural shout, shoving the Hydra agent back several feet and straight through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the foundation as particles of dust and drywall clouded around him.

The agent groaned, turning onto his stomach and attempted to crawl away, hands scrambling on the concrete, but Bucky was too quick, stalking over him with a quick yank to the knife buried in his leg and tossed it across the room. He reached down and grabbed a tight grip of the man’s collar, heaving the agent to his feet, then higher still as he held him off the ground. The man’s feet kicked at the air.

“Where is she?!”

“I don’t know what you’re—"

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Bucky howled, shaking the agent as his hands grasped at Bucky’s left wrist, nails scratching over metal plates. Bucky slammed the agent against what was left of the wall. “Tell me where she is or I’ll end your pathetic little li-”

“Bucky!” Steve shouted as he emerged through the hole in the wall, holstering his weapon.

Bucky shot Steve a glare, turning back to the agent and pressing the grip of his hand around the man’s neck, watching as he started to turn red. It was satisfying to watch him squirm.

Steve groaned, half-jogging towards Bucky until he stood over his shoulder.

“Buck, stop it,” Steve demanded, voice stern though he didn’t make a move to force Bucky to stand down. “We need him for information. You kill him and he’s useless to us.”

“He’s pretty useless right now,” Bucky countered, pressing harder on the agent’s windpipe.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Steve warned, cautious eyes glancing over his friend. “We’ll bring him back with us and interrogate him. He might know something, even if he doesn’t realize it.”

Bucky growled, eyes narrowing on the man as his skin began to turn a light shade of blue, lips gasping for breath, eyes bulging, and then, Bucky released his grip. The agent fell to the floor, coughing and retching as he struggled to find air. Bucky rolled his eyes in disgust, stepping away just as Sam rushed in to restrain the agent on the floor.

As Bucky made his way through the hole in the wall, blood dripping from the open wound in his thigh, Steve put his hand on his shoulder, a soft touch though it brought Bucky to a cold stop.

“I don’t like what this is doing to you, Buck.”

Bucky shook his head, the flattened expression seemingly permanent on his features. “I left this one alive for you, Steve. That should be good enough.”

Without bothering to wait for the speech Steve usually gave at the end of every raid about how Bucky was coming dangerously close to winter soldier territory and how he should take a break from missions for a few days, Bucky pushed his way out of the room and towards the quinjet. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d sit out another mission, not until they brought you home. He didn’t care if he fell right back into the cold, dark shell he barely existed in in the years before you came into his life. He'd put himself through the chair before he gave up on you. Consequences be damned.

The ride back to the compound was filled with the same uncomfortable silence it usually carried. With Steve attending to the pilot’s seat and Sam guarding the Hydra agent they had taken prisoner, Natasha swung her legs around the seat ahead of Bucky, eyeing him carefully as he kept his stare hardened on the flicker of the altitude light on the dashboard.

He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, and he curled his hands around the arm rests.

“Steve’s got a point, you know,” Nat said, leaning her right shoulder against the backrest of the seat. “Don’t think Y/n would like what all this is doing to you, either.”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Y/n is being held captive by the people who tore me apart from the inside out. She knows what they could do to her and she'd want me to do whatever the hell it took to bring her home.”

Nat sighed, gaze dropping for a moment as her eyes flickered over to your empty seat, the one next to Bucky. “She wouldn’t want you to lose yourself in the process, James.”

She was right. Bucky knew as much. From his first mission back in the field following the clearance from his therapist and Dr. Cho, he’d been different; more aggressive, too quick to shoot on sight, a cold hollowness in his chest with every base they raided only to come up empty.

He was a far cry from the man you knew. The one who smiled often and teased you about the pillow crease marks on your cheeks in the morning and learned how to make banana bread just because he overheard you mention just once in passing how much you loved it. He lost his quick-witted jokes with Sam and flinched away from Steve’s touch. You’d be disappointed in him for closing up so easily without you around.

Bucky clenched his jaw, turning back to Natasha. “Yeah, well Y/n isn’t here, is she?”

Nat stared back at him, firm features on her face, though a sadness lingered being her eyes. She nodded carefully because there was nothing left to say and turned back around in her seat. Bucky felt no relief.

Hours later as the team debarked the jet, Tony was waiting at the edge of the hanger, arms crossed over his chest and a desolate look upon his face. Bucky could already fell the tightness in his chest, knowing exactly what that look meant.

“We got another tape,” Tony said flatly. Steve and Sam exchanged a worried glance and Bucky could feel the entire team’s eyes on him, searching for a reaction they wouldn’t find. He was too numb for that now. Tony gestured for everyone to follow him back into the compound.

“How many does this put us at, Tony?” Steve asked as they made their way to the living room on the eleventh floor.

“Five,” Bucky replied, interjecting before Tony could answer. Sam cursed under his breath.

Since the first video was played on live television, different news networks across the country had started to receive a new tape once a week.

The second time you appeared on the television, looking worse than the first with the infection on your cheek spreading in angry red veins down your face, and dark purple bruising under your eye, Bucky had been out on a run.

He’d returned to find the entire team gathered around the television in the living room. Nat’s hand pressed over her mouth. Steve pacing back and forth as he stole quick glances at the screen. Sam gritting his teeth, arms crossed over his chest. Tony sitting on the very edge of the couch, hands clasped, head dropped.

You’d been forced deliver some bullshit line about how Hydra was the real hero of the attack in D.C. and how SHIELD was an enemy of the people. You looked like you had taken a fresh beating before that recording and Bucky knew you had tried to resist reading those cue cards, but Hydra has an exceptional way of making even the strongest of wills cave. He was familiar with it himself and he was thankful you did, if it spared you even an ounce of pain.

Tony was somehow able to get a hold of the third video before it aired and he did everything in his power to keep the news network from releasing it. It was shock value, ratings, just to have your face on their screen, broken and beaten, reciting from cue cards with a voice so raspy Bucky could barely stand hearing it without tears welling behind his eyes. You swayed in the seat as you spoke, barely able to keep yourself upright. This time, Hydra had you talk about their technological advancements, how they were surpassing SHIELD in strategy and resources. Steve was taking notes.

The media started to speculate after that; throwing around commentary aimlessly about whether you were a traitor to the state or if you had been a double agent all this time. They had debates about if resources should be spent to find you at all, given the state of your appearance and the apparent ‘obvious’ fact that you’d given Hydra information on US defense programs. Bucky had nearly thrown an entire chair at the TV when he heard that. Even daytime talk shows and late-night hosts were talking about it, giving their two cents as if their opinion mattered.

The fourth video had been the worst. They didn’t bother with cue cards, or with strapping you to a chair. Instead, the entire three minute and forty-six second video was just a man in a black mask beating you. You were too weak, your muscles too deteriorated and brain too foggy to fight back. Blood splattered onto the camera lens when the final hit took you down, knocking you out cold.

Sam nearly lost his mind, calling down to the network himself for them to cut the feed to the damn video, questioning how they could even air something as graphic and violent as that. It always came back to the same answer: ratings.

The man in the mask, the same voice Bucky recognized from the first video, had said that this was a punishment for you as he held your unconscious body up for the camera to see. For what, Bucky didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t matter. He had gripped the edge of the counter so tight it broke into pieces in his hands.

Forty-five days you’ve been held captive by Hydra by the time the fifth video came in. Forty-five days.

Bucky knew exactly the kinds of horrors you would face. He knew they would beat you and starve you and torture you until you lost your will to live. He didn’t dare let himself imagine you like he had once been; crying and begging, so fucking afraid and cringing from every touch because pain was all he came to know. He didn’t want to imagine you as anything other than the impossibly sweet, bubbly, endearing woman that pulled him from the cold edge of darkness, the woman he came to love.

“This aired while you guys were somewhere over the Atlantic,” Tony said, turning the TV on and setting up the recorded segment. This time, a man sat behind the anchor’s desk, dark brown hair coiffed away from his face and a navy-blue suit. He was scribing with a pen as he spoke, keeping his hands busy.

“--received yet another recorded tape from members of the terrorist group known as Hydra,” the man stated as an image of your face appeared on the screen beside him. It was a still from the previous video, blood covering your face. Bucky cringed.

“This time, the tape had been left at our studio headquarters in Los Angeles. The random drop offs seem to be the culprit's main tactic in evading the police who have attempted to apprehend whoever is behind these recording.”

The anchor sighed. “Please be advised that what you are about to see may be graphic and difficult to watch.”

The warning that always proceeded these videos.

They didn’t have to show this. They didn’t have to put your pain and torture on display for millions to witness, but they did anyway. For what? Ratings? They were feeding into what Hydra wanted. To create fear and distrust amongst the people, to see their hero beaten and broken while the Avengers did nothing to save her.

Bucky felt sick.

The screen switched to the same dark room they usually filmed these videos in and sure enough, there you were, gazing at the camera under heavy lids, purple bruises and features gaunt. Bucky gripped at the edge of the couch as he leaned against it for support, dropping his head for only a second to catch his breath. Steve’s hand rested on his shoulder and Bucky took as much strength as his friend was offering and faced the television again.

You swallowed, eyes glazing over as you struggled to read from the cards. There was a clench in your jaw, a sniffle, and Bucky realized suddenly you were trying to keep yourself from crying. You glanced over at someone behind the camera, pleading, begging, and you closed your eyes shut at whatever his response was. A tear slipped down the side of your face. Defeated.

Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he tasted blood.

“Bucky,” you choked out and his stomach plummeted, all eyes in the room turning to him, “they know you’ll-- you’ll be watching this and they have a message for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, hands curling against the arm rest, finger nails long been ripped from you, red angry skin in its place. Licking at your lips you shook your head subtly, so carefully that Bucky almost missed it, like you were trying to send him a sign beyond what your captors would notice. A tear passed over the dried blood caked on your cheek.

“This is—this is because of you.”

Then, your restraints were released and you were being thrown from the chair, body slammed against the wall with such force you let out a pained cried as you struggled to grab onto the arm holding you in place. A tall figure, muscular build, with that same black mask covering his face he wore in every video thus far, wrapped his hand around your neck.

Bucky clenched his hands, arms trembling, helpless, because there was nothing he could do. This had already happened. You’d already been beaten, already uttered his name in that helpless cry, all while he was completely unaware. It was only a recording. He couldn’t save you from what had already happened.

The man pulled you towards him, only to slam you against the wall again. When your face turned blue, he tossed your body carelessly across the room. You heaved through raspy breaths, desperate to find air and you tried to crawl away. The fear in your eyes was enough to break Bucky in two.

Then, the screen turned black.

“What the hell!” Bucky shouted, rushing towards the television, searching for the power button only to find it did nothing as he pressed it. He whipped around to face Stark. “What did you do!?”

“You don’t need to see that,” Tony replied calmly and Bucky nearly released a feral growl as he attempted to charge at Stark before Steve came up behind him and held him back.

Tony stood his head. “There’s nothing else in that video beside that asshole beating Y/n unconscious. Again. They’re doing it to torture you, Barnes.”

“So, let them!” Bucky shouted, struggling against Steve’s grip. He slammed Steve’s back against the television, though it did nothing to release his grip.

“I’ve seen the whole thing,” Tony snapped, shouting over the struggle between the super soldiers. “It’s ugly and I know for a fact Y/n wouldn’t want you to watch it. Its only purpose is to mess with you, don’t you get that? You saw how hard she was fighting even having to read that damn card! We all know you’d only use it as fuel to punish yourself again and again for her being where she is and I’m sick of it! Y/n would be pissed as hell that you’ve been so willing to jump right back into Winter Soldier mode at the first excuse you got!”

“Watch it, Tony!” Steve warned and Bucky threw himself from Steve’s hold.

To everyone’s surprise, even as Tony activated the extension of his suit on his hand from the pieces in his watch, as Sam and Nat readied themselves for a fight, Bucky remained completely still. Chest panting, hands clenching into painful grips at his side. A lull came over and everyone relaxed. Everyone but Bucky.

“What’s happening to Y/n is not your fault, Barnes,” Tony pressed and Bucky kept his gaze focused on the floorboards. “We all know that you did everything you could to save her that day. But Y/n is strong. Her body may be weak right now but her mind isn’t. She’s strong and she’ll survive this. Just... don’t be a different person when she gets back.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking up to Tony who was disarming the iron man armor on his hand. Tony was never someone Bucky expected to get along with, not after the history they shared, and he was okay with that. So, for Tony Stark, the man who Bucky deprived of his parents, to show him concern, to some him even some level of compassion, was too much.

He turned on his heels and left the room, disregarding his name as it was called.

***

“Let me talk to him.”

Forty-seven days since you’d been taken and Bucky stood outside of the interrogation room in the sub-ground level of the compound. Behind the thick layer of the one-way mirror, Bucky observed the agent he nearly beat to death in the abandoned Hydra base in Germany sitting smugly at the center of the room. The agent that now had an identity after FRIDAY was able to run facial recognition.

His name was Cal Jennings, a mid-level agent with a Hydra security clearance high enough to know more than what he said. Dried blood caked on his upper lip from where Natasha had broken his nose on day one of her interrogation. He wasn’t the same fearful mess he had been when Bucky had his hands on him. It was a front, a ploy, to lure Bucky into killing another one of their agents before they could be interrogated for information.

Jennings sat alone, arms tied behind his back, as he stared at the mirror. If Bucky didn’t know this was a one-way mirror, he would have thought Jennings was looking right at him.

“You know I can’t allow that, Buck,” Steve replied to his request as he turned away from the window to face his friend. “He knows something and--”

“That’s exactly why you need to send me in, Steve,” Bucky countered, growing desperate. “I can get it out of him. You know I can.” Steve hesitated, clearly thinking and Bucky continued, “If he knows anything about where Y/n is... Please, Stevie.”

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping and he gave a slow nod.

Before Steve could change his mind, Bucky pushed his way out the door and into the hallway. The fluorescents were brighter out there, enough that he had to squint to avoid the harsh influx of light to his eyes. A few more steps and he was at the door. Right hand reached out and touched the cold metal of the knob, unclicking the locks until it swung open.

Jennings didn’t so much as turn in Bucky’s direction as he stepped into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Bucky studied Jennings, searching for weaknesses he’d been trained to locate in his Hydra days; fresh wounds to exploit, the slight dip of a bone broken years ago he could re-snap, the flicker of eyes to a vulnerable position. Jennings gave him nothing, kept his stare straight ahead on the mirror, admiring his own reflection, but Hydra had trained Bucky well. He would find something to make Jennings talk. He always did.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky grumbled, pacing around the room in slow, calculated steps, “where is she?”

Jennings chuckled and it made Bucky’s blood boil. “I thought I was... what did you say... ‘useless?’”

“An act,” Bucky spat, circling around the back of Jennings’ chair. “You wanted me to kill you so you wouldn’t have to sit where you are now. You knew what you would face if we brought you in alive and you cowered away.”

Jennings smirked, meeting Bucky’s eye in the mirror. “You think very highly of yourself, Soldat.”

Bucky flinched at the name, a chill sweeping through his spine. Jennings pursed his lips, taking note of the curl of Bucky’s hand at it clenched into a fist.

“Tell me, Soldat,” Jennings taunted, “does your whore know everything about your past with us? Does she know how many you’ve killed? How many civilians have been caught in the crossfire? Does she know how much you enjoyed it?”

He paused, snickering as he glared over at Bucky with a kind of disgust and amusement all mixed in one, eager to watch the former soldier fall apart at the mere mention of your name. Jennings smirked.

“Does your girl know she’s fucking a monster?”

A growl ripped through Bucky’s chest and his left hand was suddenly wrapped around Jennings’ throat. Pressing hard against his vocal cords, Jennings still managed to chuckle through the gasps of air.

It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you like that, that he’d never had the chance to so much as tell you how he felt, let alone show you in such a way. The very idea of this man talking about you like that, the clear picture in his head as his licked his lips even with Bucky’s hand wrapped tight around his neck, drew a burning rage from somewhere dark, deep within Bucky’s chest.

A hand slammed against the one-way mirror from the observation room; Steve’s warning to back off. Bucky released Jennings with a grunt.

Heavy coughs and a snicker under his breath, Jennings only seemed to grin wider at Bucky’s reaction. “Touchy...”

“Where is she?” Bucky demanded, voice low, even, and restraining the rage festering under the surface.

“Who?”

“You know the fuck who, asshole.”

“Oh,” Jennings feigned realization. A short shrug of his shoulders and then, “Agent Y/l/n?”

Bucky took in a breath that was hot in his lungs. He folded the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing the cold metal of his left forward. Jennings laughed to himself.

“I remember her. Liked the way that stealth suit of hers clung to her ass,” Jennings jeered, shooting Bucky a watchful stare from the reflection of the mirror, waiting for him to break. Bucky clenched his jaw, curling his hands back into fists to keep them off of the man’s face.

“Enough,” Bucky spat. “Where is she?”

"You know, I see why you’re upset, Soldat. You know exactly what we will do to her because you’ve experienced it yourself,” Jennings said, too calmly, too arrogantly to stir up anything but a paralyzing dread in Bucky’s stomach. “You know that we’ll ruin her. You know we’ll rip her apart from the inside out. We’ll break her down so she becomes something so unrecognizable you’d wish we had killed her!”

Jennings yanked on his bindings, almost feral, and Bucky suddenly couldn’t move.

“She’s been beaten and tortured and mutilated just like you were!” Jennings continued with a malice in his voice Bucky had only heard in his decades under Hydra’s hold. “You won’t find her in time. You won’t save her. She’ll die in that cell the way you were supposed to! You’re never going to see her again!”

It was too much, the blood boiling in his veins, the pulsing in his head blinding his vision, and Bucky could hardly feel the ground beneath his feet. Jennings watched him from the mirror as Bucky stood in the back corner of the room, eyes on the floor, struggling to get ahold of himself and Jennings began to laugh, a sick kind of sound that only seemed to worsen the trembling in his hands.

“Tell me where she is!” Bucky yelled out, punching his fist against the wall enough to break off fragments of the concrete wall behind his knuckles. Jennings shrugged, unaffected.

“Why would I do that?” he sneered, a vicious grin curling up his thin lips. “It’s so fun to see the infamous Winter Soldier, the man who has killed presidents and taken out entire governments single handedly, reduced to a lovesick, pathetic little man over some cheap, worthless whor--”

Bucky’s fist collided with the side Jennings’ face, enough for blood to splatter from the sick curve of his grin to the pavement below. But he didn’t let up. No, he swung again, this time with the hard metal of his left fist and Jennings’ chair, bolted to the ground, lifted from the hinges and crashed to the floor on its side. Bucky couldn’t hear Steve as he pounded on the glass, warning him, not as he threw punch after punch into Jennings’ side, his face, his gut, as he grabbed a hold of Jennings’ leg and twisted until something popped and Jennings let out a scream.

Steve and Sam barreled into the room, arms snaking around Bucky to hull him off, blood dripping off of his knuckles as he shook Sam off easily, shoving Steve back against the mirror causing it to crack. Bucky charged back to the ground, grabbing a firm grip of Jennings’ collar, forcing him to meet his eye, even under layers of blood on his face and the swelling already forming over his features.

“I won’t ask again!” Bucky roared, fist held high, ready to strike, “Where is she?!”

Steve and Sam froze behind Bucky as Jennings began to snicker, blood sleeping out from behind his lips, pooling over his chin. He spat a thick glob of it to the floor, teeth red as he jeered up at Bucky.

“You will never find her, Soldat,” Jennings slurred through the blood pooled in his mouth. “Your final punishment is what we will do to her and she will never be the same.”

Bucky dropped his grip, stumbling back and Jennings collapsed to the ground. Sam rushed forward, hulling Jennings’ chair back on its legs and pressed his fingers to Jennings’ pulse. A sigh of relief as he looked back at Steve, a nod, and Bucky nearly fell to the ground. Steve’s strong arms snaked under Bucky’s and yanked him to his feet before his knees could buckle under him.

“You got this?” Steve asked Sam, nodding at Jennings whose chin was draped to his chest, knocked out cold.

“Yeah I can handle this piece of shit,” Sam grumbled back, resting his hands on his hips. He glanced back at Buck as he hung in Steve’s grip. “Get him out of here.”

Bucky allowed Steve to assist him out of the room, just long enough to regain strength in his legs, and he waved him off carefully, giving him an appreciative nod. Steve didn’t say anything, but he walked Bucky the entire way to the elevator. For good reason, Bucky assumed. He would have tried to sneak back into the interrogation room for another shot at Jennings if he thought Steve wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“You’re not thinking straight, Buck,” Steve said as they approached the elevator. He pressed the single button and it illuminated under his touch.

“Never really could without her,” Bucky shrugged.

“That’s not true. You’ve done so well and, sure, Y/n has been a huge help in your recovery and you’ve only gotten better since you guys have been, um... close,” Steve said awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head, “but, you can still be you without her. You’re strong enough for that.”

“What if I don’t want to be?” Bucky sighed dejectedly.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, though Bucky didn’t move. He stared at the small scratches on the metal shine of the wall, tiny imperfections. An ache sat and festered in Bucky’s chest, like a boulder holding weight on his lungs, only able to alleviate when you were beside him.

“Please, don’t say that,” Steve exhaled sadly. “We all know what she means to you and I know this is killing you but... you’ll survive this, Buck. We’ll bring her home, you hear me?”

“It’s just, I...” Bucky let out a heavy breath, turning to his oldest friend as his clenched his jaw, trying to stop the lump building in his throat, “I love her, Steve, and... and I’m-- I’m afraid it’s the reason they’re doing this to her.”

The doors began to close and Steve stuck his hand out to hold them against the frame. Bucky stepped inside, pressing his lips into a thin line. It was the most he could manage. Steve only stared at him, trying to find the right words to say even if there were none. The doors tried to close again but Steve kept them open.

“We’ll bring her home, Buck,” he said again, though the hesitancy in his voice betrayed him.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from the ground. He wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore.

The doors rang out and attempted to close a third time and Steve let his hand fall away, stepping back into the hall. There was nothing left to say.

***

Bucky didn’t know how he ended up at the door to your room, but there he was. It was quiet on the floor. With Steve and Sam still in the sub-level interrogating Jennings and Natasha spending most of her time training, the private quarters were largely unoccupied. You shared a floor with Bucky, Sam, and Wanda, though Wanda has been off in Wakanda for the last few months working with Shuri and Vision on controlling her abilities.

Bucky wondered if Stark had assigned him to this floor on purpose, with his room just a few feet away from yours. He could have thrown Bucky into a floor all his own, secluded, away from everyone else, just because he could, as some frankly reasonable punishment for what he did to Stark’s parents, though, he must have figured Bucky would have preferred that. And yet, being so close to you, running into you every morning felt almost like fate.

Slowly, he twisted the knob to your door, cool under his touch, and stepped inside. The window was open, curtains flowing softly with the breeze as it swept through the room. Chills ran up Bucky’s spine and he crossed the room to close the window. As he turned around, he spotted your workout clothes from that morning still tossed over the edge of your bed, sneakers kicked off by the bathroom, and the hanger your stealth suit lying on the floor by the door.

It was untouched, like you were never gone, like it hadn’t been forty-seven days since he last saw you.

Bucky swallowed back the bile in his throat, glancing down at his right hand as he sat on the edge of your bed. His knuckles were covered in blood, red angry marks and broken skin upon his fist.

He closed his eyes and tried to bring himself back to the first time you had helped clean the wounds on his skin. Dr. Cho was busy tending to Steve’s injuries, with Sam closely next in line, and Bucky only had superficial cuts, ones he insisted would heal overnight, but you wouldn’t accept that.

You dragged him up to your room, demanded he sit on your bed, and you grabbed the first aid kit from your nightstand. He couldn’t quite tell if you were angry or just determined with that thin little crease forming on your forehead as you worked bringing a twist to his stomach. You didn’t say a word as you disinfected the open wounds on his hand or when he hissed at the alcohol on his skin. You didn’t warn him to be careful next time because you knew it would happen again. It was his job, after all.

Soft, careful touches as you wrapped his hand in gauze, offering him a sweet smile as you told him he was good as new like you actually believed that. It was one of the memories he held onto tightest. Just the ease with which you touched him, like he wasn’t made of broken fragments, like he was something whole. It was the first time he considered that you might be right.

Bucky stood and rounded the corner of your bed, pulling out the drawer of your nightstand. Sitting on top, just as he remembered, was the first aid kit. He pulled it from the drawer and set it on the bed, popping open the lid and grabbing the supplies he would need. He did his best to clean the mess on his hand, all the while knowing that you’d have done a better job because you always handled him with the kind of care he never gave himself.

After his hand was wrapped and the sting of the alcohol was fresh on his skin, he moved to set the kit back into the drawer when something caught his attention.

Carefully, he slipped his left hand into the drawer and pulled out a single polaroid. It took him a moment to recognize where it was from, but the moment he did, the memory came flooding back.

Bucky always liked running; the feel of the air sweeping through his hair, the burn in his lungs, the sore ache of his legs. It let him focus on something other than the thoughts rummaging in his mind. It gave him an opportunity to just... be.

You were on his left, a slight pant in your breath, and Bucky was cautious to take note of when it sounded like you were struggling to hold the pace for his sake and he’d slow down enough that you wouldn’t notice and your breaths came in a little easier. Then, he’d speed up when he thought you were ready again.

Seven miles around the property; the path twisting through the back field where the recruits did their field training, behind the lake, and through a section of the forest which helped to seclude the compound. It was a beautiful view, if Bucky was being honest. Upstate New York in the fall just as the leaves were turning colors, some crunching under his sneakers as he ran. The air was crisp in his lungs, cool on his skin.

It had been a while since he felt so relaxed. You had a habit of bringing that out in him. It had become part of his routine, getting up in the morning and throwing on shorts and a crew neck, tying his sneakers at the kitchen table as he waited for you to emerge from your room; that genuine look of surprise that always seemed to morph into something like relief as you spotted him.

Even after he warmed up a little, letting himself find his voice around you and reluctantly agreeing to follow you into the middle of Brooklyn, he still found himself incredibly nervous. It was foreign for him to feel such a way, like a heat could form in his cheeks if you asked him the right question and the sweat that lined in his right hand as you stood close to him without thinking much of it.

You were starting to breath too hard beside him, face burning red and sweat dripping down from your hairline, and Bucky slowly pulled to a stop. There was only a half mile back to the main building from here, and he figured you could use a cool down to stretch your muscles anyway.

You paused, leaning over and resting your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. You stole a quick glance up at Bucky, who was only watching you carefully. His heartrate was hardly elevated, hair dry and hanging by his shoulders, breaths even.

“You’re insufferable. You know that?” you teased with a growing smile, wiping your forearm across your hairline and shaking the excess sweat out into the grass. “Why even bother coming on these runs with me if they clearly do nothing for you?”

“I never said they did nothing for me,” Bucky replied softly, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked back up at the compound.

These runs may not challenge him physically, but they still had purpose. It got him out of his room and dressed in the morning. It got him using his body again for something other than destruction and survival. It got him pumping the blood back into his veins and out into the fresh air, something Steve had been trying to accomplish with him unsuccessfully in the month before he met you. It got him more time with you.

These runs were something Bucky looked forward to. It had been a while since he had something like that.

You narrowed your eyes on him, a purse of your lips as you studied him for a tell you wouldn’t find. A short laugh as you shook your head and exhaled, “ok fine! Run at a mortal's pace then, super soldier.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath as you started to walk back along the path, watching as you shot him a teasing smirk over your shoulder and he jogged a few paces to catch up to you. He always felt better by your side, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

It was a slow walk up to the back entrance, with you stretching your arms behind you until they cracked, pulling a wince out of Bucky you found to be rather hilarious. You complained about your sore muscles and teased Bucky about his unfair advantage, all while tossing him those smiles that made his stomach weak.

He pushed a few steps ahead to grab the door for you as you walked back inside, giving him a casual salute as you passed by, causing him to chuckle softly.

“So, what are your plans this morning?” you asked off-handedly, like you genuinely believed he might have something on his schedule other than secluding himself to his room. You grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and tossed one to him over the counter. He caught it easily in his left hand.

“Super busy,” Bucky shrugged as he twisted off the cap. “Thought I’d head back into the city and walk around for a while. Maybe see if Sam wanted to meet me at one of those coffee joints with cats hanging around and buy a novelty shirt from Times Square.”

“Wow, Buck, that’s--” you started, a little taken back and surprised at his answer. Though, when Bucky tried to suppress a laugh as he took a swig from the water bottle, you pouted, putting your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to the city.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky confirmed with a slight shake in his head. “I’m a little shocked you thought I’d go anywhere with birdbrain, let alone back into the city.”

“Oh, it’s not entirely unrealistic! You had a good time when we went to Brooklyn last month, didn’t you?”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, but I was with you, wasn’t I? Different situation entirely.”

“Is it?” you asked curiously, the teasing nature absent from your voice and Bucky realized the implications of what he said. You were watching him too carefully, with a hopefulness behind your eyes that caught Bucky entirely off guard.

“Oh, well, I meant that, um,” Bucky stumbled over his words, his throat suddenly feeling dry, “I just... I don’t know... I’m more comfortable around you. I guess.”

Your lips slowly curved into the widest smile Bucky had ever seen, which was a feat within itself knowing you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, think so,” Bucky replied with a nervous laugh and you punched the air like you had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. The anxiety faded away as he watched you grin at him, like you had been hoping for this all along. He let himself laugh.

“Good! Well that means you’re free then,” you quipped, rushing from behind the counter and grabbing a hold of the wrist on his left hand, like it wasn’t made of metal, like it wasn’t something lethal, and tugged him towards your room. “Come on! I’ve got something I wanna show you.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile pressing up on his cheeks as he followed you down the hall, your delicate fingers still wrapped around metal. He found himself fixated on it, so perplexed how you could touch this piece of him so casually, like it wasn’t something to fear, something to be disgusted by.

You pushed open the door to your room and shoved him teasingly to sit on the flood at the end of your bed. He watched as you raced around the room, grabbing a few books off the shelves and your laptop from the desk. You took a seat next to him, folding your legs under you and your shoulder brushed his.

“Prepare to get educated, Barnes.”

You showed him a few of the books he recognized from the trip to Brooklyn, ones you purchased after you had insisted he catch up on what he had missed. After careful consideration, you placed two of the five books on his lap, explaining the synopses and instructed him to pick one. He had just finished To Kill a Mockingbird, his first choice on the list you gave him. Of the two you laid out for him, he chose Fahrenheit 451. You, of course, got a kick out of that because it was Steve’s favorite on the list you had provided when you first met him as well.

Bucky couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the thought of anyone else sharing these kinds of moments with you, curled up one the floor by your bed, rustling through old books, as you typed away on your laptop. Though, with the way you were stealing glances at him every few minutes, lip caught between your teeth as you typed away, it was easy to forget about anything but you and this moment.

"What are you doing?” Bucky asked as he glanced over the back cover of the book, flipping through the worn pages.

“Making you a playlist,” you replied, eyes still glued to your screen as you clicked and dragged songs over into a folder on the left side. “Your education doesn’t stop with books, Bucky! I’ve got a whole plan here. Music. Movies. Television. Food. Theater. Tourist traps.”

“Of course,” Bucky laughed, the very idea of spending more time with you like this making his stomach pleasantly weak. You grinned back at him and set the laptop in the space between you, clicking play on the first song of the playlist. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’re done already?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you shrugged and Bucky’s lips curved up into a smile, wondering when you had decided to put the first song on the list and what moments made you think of him, what melodies or lyrics reminded you of him enough to put them together in a playlist. You shoved his shoulder, pointing to the laptop. “Listen!”

Bucky pressed his lips together, nodding as he stilled himself. The soft strum of the guitar filled the room, accompanied by what sounded like an old grainy texture he’d find on tracks from his time, only this sounded more like waves coming in along a beach. Then, a man’s voice came through the static and the acoustic strumming, soft, comforting, joined by the delicate pulsing rhythm of a tambourine.

‘Been traveling these wide roads for so long.

My heart’s been far from you

Ten-thousand miles gone’

Bucky sat back against the frame of your bed, letting the soft tones of the music relax in his muscles and carry away the thoughts in his head. He listened as the harmonies sang over the chorus, the familiar sound, the new sound, the somewhere in between, until it eventually slowed and a woman’s voice came through, lulling Bucky into a calm he could only drop his guard to find next to you.

The voices began to fade and tambourine chimed one last time, and you reached out and pressed pause before the next song could play, carefully looking to him for his reaction. Bucky didn’t know how you had come to learn him so well in the few months since he met you, how you had managed to get him to open up, even if in small careful steps, how you could possibly find a song that reminded him so much of his youth but ushered in a new era at the same time.

It was perfect. It was his new favorite song. He wanted to hear it twenty times over as long as you’d sit next to him.

“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, glancing back at the screen. “There’s others, too. I just thought, maybe you’d--”

“Play again, will ya?” Bucky interjected, smiling at you softly, enough for you to return it eagerly as a relief relaxed over your features. You nodded and restarted the song. The strum of the guitar filled the room again.

Bucky didn’t even notice you pull a camera from under your bed as he listened to the calming melodies of the song. You scooted an inch or so closer to him, enough that your hip touched his and Bucky sucked in a careful breath. You held the camera out at the end of your arm, lens facing you.

“Smile, Buck,” you requested, nodding to the camera when he shot you a confused look.

Bucky watched as you turned back to the camera, smiling as you leaned your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t imagine how easily it was for you to be so close to him, to want to be, after all that he’d done. You treated him with a kindness he never thought he’d see again. He decided he’d do just about anything you asked of him.

So, he took a deep breath, turning to the lens and allowing the smallest of smiles to curve on the edges of his lips, his head tilting until it rested on the crown of your head, soft waves under the subtle of his jaw.

The flash clicked and a square film printed out from the bottom of the camera. You pulled it out carefully and blew it on delicately. It was dark and Bucky could hardly tell if he was even in the image or not.

“It’ll develop, don’t worry,” you said with a wink. “In the meantime, I’ve got more songs for you. Get ready to be blown away.”

Bucky chuckled, settling in for the rest of the day if you wanted, resting his back on your bed and playing with the fibers of the carpet under his palm. Your thigh was still pressed up to his and you made no effort to move away. Bucky found he didn’t mind at all.

Three years later and you kept it all this time.

Bucky held the polaroid in his hand, gripped so tightly between his fingers it startled to crinkle in the corner. The curve of your smile, the lines by your eyes as you grinned for the camera, curling up against him. An innocence in his own eyes he hardly even recognized.

You changed him, pulled him from the darkness, helped him find his own footing to step into the light.

Bucky pressed the photo to his chest, tears welling in his eyes as a lump choked in the back of his throat. He didn't know if he could survive without you, without his light.

He didn’t know if he wanted to.

-------

If you didn’t notice up at the top, I’ve made an official playlist for this series! It has the one in the memory, some songs that will pop up later, plus just some stuff that inspired me as I wrote and songs that just complete the vibe of this fic. Check it out if you’re interested! 💕I am also working on one for The Witness and an upcoming mini series 🌸

feedback is always appreciated! 💖

tags 👟@sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #guiding light

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whatsmylaneagain · 4 years

Text

Amethyst - Third Chapter

Pairing: Eggsy x Agent!Reader

Word count: 1960 (a big one!!! Yay!!!)

Warnings: swearing, Roxy mention (bc she deserved more), reader’s character being a rebellious lil shit, Eggsy being kinda dumb (oh well this is all kinda narrated by his point of view, there’s no way to not expect that, right?!)

Chapter synopsis: so, we know that the bomb had Eggsy’s name on it, but.... what the hell is actually happening?

A/N: GUYS IM BACK AND IM SORRY!!!! I’ve written (and revised) this more than six months ago, but I absolutely hated how I made Eggsy a dumb character, so I spent all this months putting this story aside to fix it later... but I love it so much and this week I watched Spies are Forever and oh well.... idk, its been too long, but I’m posting this anyway.

Amethyst masterlist

Eggsy didn’t expect to find another person other than Harry and Merlin at the Kingsman’s meeting room. And what he definitely didn’t expect was for the person to be a beautiful Chinese woman laughing and having a drink with Harry Hart. The young man felt like he was invading a private moment, and had the sudden urge to grab y/n by the arm to show her the new victorian-style sconces he chosen for the rebuilt hallway.

But before he could say anything, y/n had already tapped the doorpost, making their presence known. The middle-aged woman talking to Harry glanced at the two young agents, giving the girl a sly smile.

“I’m glad to know you didn’t punch Mr. Unwin on your way here, y/n” she said, as Eggsy went straight for his chair on Harry’s right side.

“I would’ve if you didn’t send me that text” The girl had moved to the woman’s side, backing up to the wall for support. She never made mention of pulling a chair.

“Well, y/n, I take as you already know Harry.” Said the woman, gesturing to the older man, who smiled sweetly. Yes, that’s right. Harry SMILED.

“Of course, The Great Harry Hart, the man of a thousand missions;” when Eggsy thought he couldn’t get more confused, y/n pulled this. “Everybody at the headquarters knows who you are.” And some - fucking – how, she sounded genuine, and not witty or arrogant as she appeared to be. Was that… admiration?

Seeing Eggsy’s confused expression, the older woman gave him a small smile, welcoming, but not too sweet; just like an agent is used to do.

“Galahad, I’m Yijun, or as my agents – or people who can’t bother to learn how to pronounce it - call me, Circe. I’m the head of Amethyst, the agency that y/n works for.”

Eggsy must have looked very confused, because Harry intervened, while pouring two more drinks, giving him one and sliding the other across the table, towards y/n.

“Yijun is an old friend, we met some weeks after she came from China. I was already a Kingsman, and was trying to bring her into the organization – just like I did with you – when she was recruited as an Amethyst trainee.”

“You knew?” Started Eggsy, a little bit of irritation shaping his words. After agent Whiskey, he knew better than not to trust Harry. But he couldn’t help the feeling of being a pawn. “Why did you let me go after her then?”

“I didn’t know the agent who saved you was y/n. All I knew was that she was an Amethyst, since the intervention was fast and clean.”

“-almost clean;” Yijun turned her chair to y/n, who was taking a sip out of her drink, still leant against the wall. “If Morgan’s work were perfect, you wouldn’t be able to find her.”

“Nobody’s perfect, but I try my best.” She shrugged. “’m still your best agent tho.”

“Please,” Merlin entered the room, an IPad in hands, ready to the briefing. “put the blame on me for being able to hack into almost anything, including London’s surveillance cameras. She did a wonderful job.”

Merlin stopped right in front of y/n, extending his hand for a handshake. She grabbed it immediately.

“Miss Le Fay. Hope our codenames won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t see why, Sir Merlin. The witch from who I borrowed my name could very easily have been Merlin’s apprentice.”

No awkward pressure thing, from what Eggsy could see. Why were his interactions with her so bloody awful? For god’s sake, y/n was joking with Merlin!

It took him a moment to remember what history the two were referring to: Morgan Le Fay was a witch in King Arthur’s story, from where Kingsman got their codenames. Depending on the version, she can be portrayed as Merlin’s enemy, responsible for the death of King Arthur or as a powerful good woman, that had healing powers and could shape shift. For an organization like Amethyst, Eggsy supposed the second option was the one they had in mind.

Merlin greeted Yijun with a respectful “ma’am” before selecting something on his device, the projection of a document showing up on the wall above y/n.

“The techs over Amethyst sent us their reports on missing people, and turns out the man who you two,” Merlin looked at Eggsy and y/n. “saw is Adrian Bell. Seven months ago, he apparently went on a trip to India, but his family didn’t hear about him after he left. He never showed up on the airport camera footage.”

“So... he planned to disappear?” Interfered Eggsy.

“Apparently, yes. But there’s a problem.” Merlin changed the projection, it now being a series of pictures, especially ones where Bell hugged his family tightly, his wife crying, and his kids glued to his leg. It looked like a reunion. “He doesn’t remember anything and woke up asking for his family. His last memory was being in a bar and passing out. He thinks that he was in an alcoholic coma.”

Eggsy was about to ask a lot of questions, but Merlin had started talking again, while taking two Kingsman’s RayBans out of his pocket, giving each woman a pair.

“I’ve made a partnership with the group of cooperative organizations led by Amethyst, also called D.E.A.R; Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst Relations -” Introduced Merlin, but Eggsy wasn’t really paying much attention to him.

Instead, he was observing y/n, who hesitantly spun the glasses in her hands, analysing it, differently from Yijun, who just put them on right away. Her mouth twitched on the side, and she started to bite her tongue, as if trying to distract and put herself together. Y/n put them on, but kept looking down for some seconds, before fixing her posture and raising her head, crossing her arms, still leant against the wall on one shoulder.

It was quite weird seeing y/n wearing the glasses. Even though she had noting that could possibly remind him of Roxy, Eggsy couldn’t stop the deja vu of his best friend. A sad smile adorned his lips. He missed her.

A Kingsman-style hologram of a young 16-year-old girl appeared sitting on one of the chairs, big extravagant round sunglasses framing her face along with bright pink streaks on her brown hair. Although she was a teenager (and dressed like one, in a jean jacket and a white tee that said “girl power” in red), she sat perfectly straight, very professionally.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Tonks, Emerald’s tech and field agent. I just came back from an information gathering mission.” which, as a previous Emerald’s agent, y/n knew was just a fancy description for attending parties. Nothing too dangerous, especially for Emerald’s missions, that were more based in socialization and keeping an eye on people. Actually, y/n was impressed that Tonks had something substantial to report (especially to Kingsman) in a high school party. “A group of unmatchable individuals seems to be working together, all of them acting really uncharacteristic and very patronized. I detected the group spiking other teen’s drinks. I managed to intervene and get a sample of it. Agent Spellman also reported a strange movement, alike the one I observed, with a college group. We sent the samples to our biotechs, and the lab concluded it was a modified Mikey Pinn.” The girl grabbed her phone and sent something, the IPhone message sound reverberating through the room. “Now you have access to our outhouse cameras, Merlin.”

Merlin quickly changed the projection above y/n to eight squares of video that showed each teen in one small room, some asleep on the beds, some walking around nervously, and one passed out on the floor. Tonks started talking again.

“Spellman and I brought the group of high school and college students to our outhouse. Whatever drug they’re on soon will wear off, and then we’ll be able to analyse what happened to them.”

“Was that the first ever occurrence on your field, Tonks?” Asked Yijun, and then turned to the Kingsman’s, explaining; “Emerald agents that work on high schools usually only have to get in action to stop violence and abuse at their missions. Situations like what we’re dealing with right now is uncharacteristic.”

“No, Boss. Some students stopped going to classes suddenly, but we checked: they all were confirmed on exchange programs abroad. Apparently, they never went.”

Y/n wasn’t leant on the wall anymore. She’d walked to the table, bent over it, hands open, pressed on the cold wood, all her attention on Tonks. Tension.

“Who were the kids? High school and college. Why choose them?” She said.

Tonks flipped through her phone, messaging Merlin more documents - the ring once again filling the room - before answering.

“A rugby player, two perfect grade kids and a foreign student were the high school kids. Apparently, it’s a pattern: physically strong people and awarded students that stand out for their knowledge of exact sciences.”

“Have you tracked were they were drugged the first time?” Continued y/n.

“Not yet, but...”

“I did;” said Merlin, suddenly, typing on his IPad.

A new image showed up on the wall. The front of a bar that looked like it used to be fancy ten years ago. Now, the paint was coming off the walls, and the huge opaque black doors were rusted, chains and a big old padlock kept them closed. It had no name on the outside, only a broken light up waning crescent moon, just the inferior part working, shining in a weak yellow light.

Eggsy knew the place. Actually, every teen and young adult in London knew Moonz: the flat broke bar that let underage kids come in and drink. You didn’t even need a fake ID, they would pretend to not be able to do math and let kids in. In some months, it became domain of teens, turning into a considerably safe place for them to get drunk and party. Also, it was the cheapest place to get booze.

But the underage drinking caused a bigger problem; since it was illegal, the neighbourhood didn’t have a lot of cops because the owner kept them away. Consequently, Moonz’s location became a centre of violence, kidnapping, and other heavy crimes.

The young Galahad saw y/n turn to the projection in slow motion, the act of being casual being thrown out of the window. For Eggsy, she looked like a robot who got rebooted and installed a completely different system of command. When she spoke again, her voice was strong and deep.

“Tonks, do you know when it started?”

“It?” Asked Eggsy.

“The kidnappings.” Y/n answered. “The fact that they were drugging others looks like it was a kidnapping system. In this context, those kids were “recruiting” more teens.”

Tonks checked her phone.

“No, Morgan. We couldn’t track it. They apparently are the first ones to come back.”

“Shit.” Y/n paced around the room. “Boss, permission to do an observation and protection mission at Moonz.”

“Permission granted” nodded Yijun “take Galahad with you.”

“Yi, I don’t think the gentlemen can pass as a teenager.” Y/n had stopped walking. She looked straight into Eggsy’s eyes. “With all due respect...”

Yijun shook her head.

“You know there are other ways to get him inside undercover.”

Y/n ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath. Eggsy could almost hear her thinking “Fuck. Fine.”.

“C’mon Galahad, we’ve got a job to do.”

Eggsy and Y/n were almost out of the room when Yijun called her agent again.

“Oh and Y/n.” The girl turned around. “Don’t engage. I’ll send Emerald agents to protect the kids, but you and Galahad can’t have your covers blown up. Do. Not. Engage. Do you understand?”

All Y/n did was nod slightly.

If you made it to here, thank you so much! I hope it was worth your time! Some feedback would be appreciated, I really wanted to see if you liked this (dumb) Eggsy I’m presenting.... If you don’t want to be in the taglist anymore, I totally understand! Just message me :)

Also!!!! Feel free to message me any questions about the fic and this chapter! I have some fun reasons for choosing those codenames and Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst as the names for the organization!

Amethyst taglist

@a-dorky-book-keeper @50shadesofuncomfortable @arizonacolleen @infinity-of-high-dreaming @toasty-fish @pink-smarties @mc225g @dadd-ilf @sueeatstheworld @katorgatorgalaxy @the-ink-and-salt-club @incorrect-mcdanno @xelizabethvalentinex @ahyestheandersons @thatdamnokie @wxxnks @awesomewees @ryedikkulus @discodeak @clacestan @y-dadd

(If you got the notification again, sorry! I had a problem with the taglist and had to do it again!

#kingsman #kingsman fanfic #kingsman eggsy #kingsman au #eggsy unwin #eggsy imagine #eggsy x reader #harry hart

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nomnomsik · 5 years

Text

Eavesdropping - (m)

Word Count: 2.1K

Pairing: Idol!Jimin x Idol!Reader

A/N: To @chinkbihh bc she was being a hoe for Jimin.

Trigger warning: DOM!JIMIN, Smut, profanity, possessiveness, yandere-themes, humiliation, protection is used. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. [EDITED]

The endless sea of chants and screams roared, filling the whole venue. A bright smile was ingrained in the idol’s face which hid all of his fatigue and annoyance. The end of the year award shows wrapped up all the music that had come out in a pretty little bow; the most influential and popular ones being rewarded in the form of a glamorous award.

Each time his group was called for an award, Jimin hid his smirk behind a polite smile and his constant bows to other idols. He was finally being rewarded for all the struggle his group had to go through and those bastard idols who constantly looked down on them. The rewards were finally and rightfully his. Jimin had to remind himself not to get too carried away with his smug. But, how could you blame him when his group was snatching all the important awards of the night?

To top off his pleasant mood, your group had also attended the award show. Not only did you look gorgeous like usual, but the dress hugged your body that it was difficult for him to not stare at your ass. For once, he was actually thanking those ridiculous Korean beauty standards. He couldn’t stop staring at your thighs and legs, completely infatuated with your confidence and aura. You already killed the red carpet, articles popping up left and right minutes after your appearance. You were the gem of the group and you knew it. Your attitude completely hooked him in. He just had to have you.

Jimin was waiting for this award show because for once in his life, you were MC’ing with him. He was going to stand right next to you, converse with you, and maybe later in the backstage, seduce you. Jimin sat with a straight poker face, his legs crossed over each other and his hands shoved in his pockets. Excitement built up in his body as scandalous thoughts popped in his head.

How he just wanted to shove you into the bathroom and have his way with you. He wanted you to cry out his name, bend to his will, and lose all of your innocence at his hand. Jimin stared blankly at the performance on stage, completely lost in his racy thoughts that he didn’t feel the touch on his shoulder. With a harder shake, Jimin was forced to turn around, looking up at his manager who pointed to the backstage entrance. Jimin brushed himself off as he ducked and made his way through the black curtain.

The hair and makeup stylists retouched their work as he sat in the changing room. He wore his black suit with the low cut black shirt underneath that exposed his the top of his chest. His rose gold locks fell over his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh. He couldn’t focus at all.

“Whatever.” He muttered, trusting himself to just go with the flow. With a push, he stood up, the stylists desperately trying to get their finishing touches as if it actually mattered. His manager guided him through the hallway as the staff hooked him up with his mic pack that was pushed in his back pocket. He kept his cool as he was finally introduced to you, your outfit also changed.

You wore a black lace knee-length dress with a cascading waterfall opening chiffon jacket. The ends of your dress were delicately accompanied with a scalloped lace hem trim. Jimin almost felt his jaw fall in amazement as he stared. As he looked down, the gleam of your heels caught his eye. Your feet were comfortably strapped in a pointed cross-strap heel decorated with a crystal on the back. The heel was maybe almost four inches and yet you stood straight, clearly not bothered by it at all. Although you had the chiffon jacket overtop of your dress, he could see just how tight the wrapped around the curves of your body.

His eye twitched in irritation as the male staff attached the mic pack onto the back of your dress. He watched as the staffer pushed your chiffon jacket to the side, revealing your bare arms and helping you hook the pack with a bundle of cloth. Jimin glared at the male staff behind you back, earning an apologetic bow from him. The corners of his lips curled up as he had complete control over the people in the room.

Of course, they won’t want to mess with one of the most influential artists here. You better step back, that’s right.

As you looked over to Jimin, he bent his elbow, microphone in hand. You wrapped your arm around him, the staff giving you a countdown before your entrance. To Jimin, this was a pre-debut to the world of his relationship with you. The most beautiful woman of the night, arm wrapped around his as the two of you took powerful strides onto the stage. The pleasant sound of your heels clacking on the crisp floor further increased his smugness. It was a small thing, but so satisfying and sexy to him. The two of your charismatic looks earned the squeal of thousands, the loud screams bouncing off the large walls.

On the other hand, you were oblivious to his intentions, your sole goal of not messing up on live television. Jimin was handsome, his bright smile directed towards all the cameras catching his every angle. It made you flustered inside that you stood next to one of the most sought out man by so many. Like the professional he was, Jimin noticed your slight nervousness and hesitation. He picked up his mic, bringing it up to his mouth as he read the first cue card. Jimin’s voice broke you out of your hesitancy, as you brought your own mic to your lips, smiling up as if nothing had happened.

There she is.

Jimin smiled proudly, his eyes always looking straight ahead. The rest of the night had gone smoothly, you and Jimin sharing some funny moments live. Normally, the aegyo the show would force the MC’s to do would make him cringe. But he found it quite endearing and interesting that you were willing to humiliate yourself like that. Maybe you were into that. He’ll find out later anyway.

The next shift of MC’s were up as Jimin waited for you to wrap your arm around him again. The two of you gave waves to the crowd as you both stepped off the stage. The backstage crew immediately huddled around you, taking the earpiece off and the cue cards. As soon as you had handed your batch of cue cards, Jimin had dragged you by the wrist. You sputtered, unsure why this famous man was touching you at all. His touch made you feel dirty as he led you down the hall. He was too high above you that your face heated up in embarrassment.

Jimin pushed the door to the men’s room open, dragging you to the last stall and pulling you in. The back of his hand caressed the smooth surface of your cheek as you stared at him with fear in your eyes.

“Uh, Mr. Park… W-what are-... I mean what’s going on…” You looked around in the small stall as Jimin stood a bit taller over you.

“Do you know how annoying it is to watch you flaunt around in this outfit, completely blind to all the hungry stares directed at you?” He seethed, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Park, I knew that though… There’s not much I can do about it though…” You murmured, a sudden wash of submissiveness overcoming your body. It was a peculiar sensation that you never really felt before. But you wanted to please him through your obedience.

A smirk graced the corner of his lips as he let out a chuckle. “Oh, so you’re one of those girls, huh?”

“Mr. Park, I would greatly appreciate it if you could let me out. I’m very tired.” You ignored his comment, remembering that this meeting could change both of your careers forever.

“Turn around.”

“E-excuse me?” You squeaked.

“I said, turn around.”

You turned your body around until you were no longer facing him anymore. Not only was his voice threatening, but the desire to make him happy sent a thrill up your body. Jimin’s hand landed on your ass, rubbing his hand through the fabric of your dress. With a loud slap, his hand sent a shock through your body as you felt your legs on the verge of giving in and falling.

Jimin grabbed both of your hands, pulling them behind your back. He pulled your arms and forced your back to his chest as he whispered into your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you here and now. How does that sound, baby?”

“U-um, Mr. Park…” You gulped, embarrassment flushing your face. “Make it quick.”

“What happened to that confident woman from before?” Jimin sneered, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall a bit. He brought his hand into the inside pocket, pulling out a very familiar wrapper and ripping the top with his teeth.

“Why the fuck do you have that with you?!” You blurted out, your face searing in embarrassment.

“Because I know I get what I want in the end.”

He pulled your dress up to your stomach, his fingers brushing over the wetness of your undergarments. Without a sound, Jimin pushed your panties to the side, stroking his covered length a few times before slipping in.

You squeezed your eyes at the pain. Damn you for being stupid enough to not tell him to prep you at least. On the other hand, Jimin was in heaven, enjoying the rare tightness that he hadn’t felt in a while. With a rather large grunt, Jimin thrusted at a fast pace from the start, watching as you struggled to support yourself on the stall wall. Jimin held onto your hips, groaning at the intense pleasure that turned his mind blank.

You cried out as Jimin slammed back into you, sending a sharp shock of pleasure each time. Jimin took one of his hands off your hips, preferring to take a bunch of your hair as he pulled it back.

“You’re s-so fucking k-kinky, Mr. Park.” You stammered as Jimin harshly tugged your hair back. Jimin let out a huff, grinning.

“And you’re a proper bitch, calling me Mr. Park.” You let out a groan, feeling Jimin’s balanced pace become more erratic. “Call me that o-one more time and I swear I’m going to make sure that this whole facility hears you.”

You whined as he tugged onto your hair, pulling your body back to meet every thrust he sent into your body. You bit your lip to prevent slipping out his name, focusing on the pleasure that began to buildup in your core.

“S-shit… Fuck… I’m-” Jimin lowered his head, his pace slowing down as he emptied his contents into latex. His teeth found its way to your shoulder, biting and sucking on your skin.

The aftermath was uncomfortable as you pulled your dress down and cleaned yourself of the wet juices. Jimin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, checking his appearance once more before nodding. He looked as if nothing had happened. You, on the other hand, had to go to painstaking lengths to fix your hair and wrinkled clothes.

Jimin patiently waited for you before leading you out the bathroom door together. He found it charming that you could barely keep your head up. A bunch of staff looked at the two of you, their faces obvious that they knew what had transpired. Jimin hummed, not really caring. You were the only thing that mattered. Before the two of you split ways, a male staffer came up to the both of you, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Jimin recognized him as the same guy who had helped you put your microphone pack on.

“Uh… We need you to return your microphone packs… please…”

Jimin chuckled. “Well sweetheart, I guess you didn’t need to stop calling me ‘Mr. Park’. They heard anyways.”

“I hate you, Park Jimin.”

Dispatch had a field day with that content, taunting it in front of both of your agencies. You were absolutely mortified when you were told that it had gotten into the hands of Dispatch, but you sighed. Of course, it got into their hands. The vast contrast between your reaction and Jimin’s made it even more unbearable.

Jimin sat in the office of his manager, on Wednesday morning, as he was explained what had happened.

“We received something from Dispatch about your…” The manager trailed off, before clearing his throat. “About your rendezvous with y/n.”

“And what about it? You know I’ve done this so many times.” Jimin spoke nonchalantly, tilting his head back to stretch. “I’m going to keep her. I claimed her and I don’t need anyone else. She’s mine.” Jimin snapped. “Is it my reputation and career at stake? Just tell Dispatch I’ll give them 2 million if they keep their mouth shut.”

The manager just nodded, turning around to send a call. He just sighed.

What a mess.

Before Jimin walked out, he quickly added with a smirk.

“Also tell them to send it to me. I want to keep it.”

#yandere bts #bts smut #jimin smut #yandere jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts scenario #jimin scenario #yandere jimin #idol jimin #idol jimin x reader

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kouei116 · 5 years

Text

Piofiore no Banshou: Dante (1)

Y: Eeee!? Why are you ... But thank you for saving me ...

After the prologue, Dante brought MC to his Falzone mansion. She was treated as a guest, had a comfy room, an escort called Leo that brought her everything she needed but Dante refused to explain/tell her anything, didn't allow her to step outside the mansion either. One day MC knew Dante was going out, she told Leo she was taking a bath but actually making a rope from bed sheet to climb down and escape. The rope snapped and she fell straight into Dante’s arms below ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧ Dante had a bad premonition hence he quickly returned and managed to catch her. He was mad, she could have died! MC thanked him for saving her. Dante brought her to his office and explained Sister Sofia died from the wound that night, MC was in a dangerous situation, she should stay here so that the Falzone could protect her from LaoShu (the Chinese mafia).

Y: (His face is very gentle...)

D (to Carlo the cat): ... What happened to you? To be lost this late at night?

Leo brought MC books, music records so she wouldn't be bored, even a cat (that she named Carlo, it has blue eyes just like Dante's) so she wouldn't be lonely. MC was very thankful to Leo but eventually found out all of these were actually Dante's orders. One day, Carlo finished eating and ran off into Dante's office. MC followed and saw Dante patting Carlo's head gently ~(=^･ω･^)ヾ(^^ ) She came in to thank him for giving her all the books, records and Carlo. She asked if she could trust him, he said it was hard to ask her to trust mafia, but he had rules and he would move ahead to do what needed to be done without wavering - similar to what Sister Sofia told MC before. MC burst into crying missing Sofia and Dante stroked her back comforting her. She thought to herself, thanks to Carlo, she found out this kind gentle side of Dante today.

Y: (Dante was fighting while he himself was wounded like this ...)

Nicola (Dante's right hand man) told her to go with him to the mansion's dungeon where Dante and other men were interrogating Fei (underling of Yang - Laoshu's leader). Fei saw MC and said ohhh she is the Key Maiden! Nicola lied to Dante that they came down here to look for Carlo the cat. MC asked Dante to stop bc Fei was still a boy, but Dante said this was not her business. Nicola brought MC back up and explained he showed MC that to remind her even if they treated her kindly, they were still mafia, and the world they lived in was different from hers.

MC found out Sister Sofia was still alive, she wanted to go to the church to ask Sofia about the Key Maiden. Leo helped sneak her out on the day the Falzone attacked Yang's dealings but Sister Sofia wasn't in the church so they returned, bumping into Gilford (Visconti family's head) on the way but he let them go without troubling them. The Falzone's attack was successful, MC had been waiting to ask Dante abt Key Maiden, but when she saw blood on his arm, she rushed to get the first aid box and gave him treatment. She apologized to him, saying she found him scary in the dungeon and she still didn't like violence. He said it was natural to be scared and she didn't need to come to accept violence, in the world he lived in, sometimes there are things that need violence to get done.

Y: (The leaf must have been flown by the strong wind earlier)

MC saw a famous politician angrily left Dante's office then Dante came out, looking all gloomy. She asked him to come to the garden with her, she tried to cheer him up talking abt fall and winter lol but nope, not working. Then she asked what sweets he wanted, more dulce? panacotta? tarta caprese? Btw Dante had a sweet tooth, he drank cafe latte, cappucino and liked the dulce that MC usually made for him. He was interested in the tarta caprese. MC was very excited saying she would try her best to make it delicious for him - this made him smile (❁´‿`❁)*✲ﾟ* Suddenly a strong wind flown by and he came very near to her face because ... there was a leaf stuck into her hair. He took the leaf off and MC heart pounded in her chest UwU

Leo said he was sure Sister Sofia was in the church this time, so when the Falzone went to do another attack on Yang, they sneaked out again (urggg whyyy Leo). But the intel for this attack was a miss, Yang wasn't there. Meanwhile MC and Leo were cornered by Yang's underlings. They ran away, bumped into the police officer Marcus and Robert. Leo offered to acted as the diversion while Marco helped bring MC back. But Marco and MC bumped right into Yang... Luckily Dante arrived and fought with Yang to protect MC. Then Nicola and more backup arrived so Yang left.

When they returned to his office, Dante slapped Leo for not thinking before acting, then was abt to explain everything to MC but there was a commotion at the front - Orlok arrived and on his own beat up the Falzone people to get inside the mansion. Leo rushed in to warn Dante, Dante prepared his gun and as soon as he stepped outside, Orlok was right at the door wanting to talk to MC. Dante wanted to stop Orlok so Orlok lunged at Dante with his short knife. Leo jumped in and got stabbed in his arm. More Falzone backup coming so Orlok jumped out the window and escaped.

After this, Dante told MC to pack things up and they immediately left to a hidden house that even among the Falzone, only Nicola and Leo knew about. These 2 usually came by to bring food and give reports to Dante. Nicola now was in command while Dante was here with MC.

Dante explained to MC, the Falzone has always been protecting the Holy Relic. In order for the Holy Relic not to be misused (that would cause Burlone to fall into wars and disasters), the Holy Relic was strictly sealed and according to legends, the 2 important factors to unlock the seal were the Falzone family's blood (hence the family was very strict with bloodline) and the Key Maiden (that the church chose aka MC).

D: Y...? What is it...?

Y: I really wasn't about to attack you in your sleep!

Later Dante fell asleep on the couch, MC was trying to wake him up to go to bed properly and avoid catching cold, but Carlo the cat at her feet made her slip and nearly fell down onto Dante, hence this adorable blushing Dante CG (*´﹃｀*) Well, she managed to get up and their hands only touched a little bit what a shame (￢ε￢　) The two of them lived in this house, MC cooked and cleaned bc when Dante offered to help he immediately broke a dish lol. He asked her abt her life at the church while she asked him abt his childhood (with Nicola sneaking into the kitchen, they grew up together so could understand each other very well). It's nice for Dante and MC to get to know each other while living here all on their own ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Nicola: Well, once I finish reading this book, the three of us (Dante, Nicola, MC) can discuss our thoughts together while having tea.

Introducing my Falzone Panini (the Italian cousin of Anna's sandwich™ haha): Dante Falzone (VA: Kaito Ishikawa) and Nicola Francesca (VA: Kimura Ryouhei). I automatically have a soft spot for Nicola the moment I saw Kimura Ryouhei as his VA. Dante is ahhhh, not only is he very handsome, I like how he seems cold but actually silently protects and looks after MC. He is sweet like his sweet tooth! His voice is so nice too, I'm definitely playing Midnight Cinderella's Alyn, Psychedelica the Black butterfly’s Hikage and Gensou Kissa Enchante’s Il Fado de Rie in his honour (♥ω♥ ) ~♪

This post is about chapter 1-5, about half of Dante's route that I have played and so far I enjoy it very much. The story, the arts, the music are stunning. I can't wait to finish the rest of Dante’s then onto Nicola’s ヽ(。ゝω・)ノ☆

#Piofiore no Banshou #piofiore #piofiore dante #dante falzone #kouei116 translation #kouei116 nintendoswitch

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years

Text

Unwanted feelings [Ben Hardy x F!Reader]

Words : 3, 900 K +

Warnings : angst, fluff, sad joe hours

Summary : Joe fall for Ben’s girlfriend. And obviously, it hurt.

Note : Poor baby Joe !!! I wrote these two parts in only few days bc i was super inspired for this request, thanks again @gardenjungle ! There a part 2 almost done to finish this story bc it would been too heavy in one part, tell me what you think lovies !!

☀ Masterlist ☀ 800 followers celebration !!!

Joe never meant to feel something for (Y/N), he was aware how wrong it was. Ben and (Y/N) were together for five years now and, recently, they get engaged. Joe’s heart broke at the new but he had no right to feel sad or jealous, she wasn’t his and she never will. But feelings weren’t something that Joe or anyone could control, they were here and there weren’t much Joe could do expect waiting for them to fade away.

Ben introduced (Y/N) to him and all the bohemian rhapsody cast during the shooting of the movie and at first, it was just an innocent crush for Joe. (Y/N) was a beautiful girl and even a blind man could see that. She had the prettiest and most charming smile he ever saw, his heart fluttered heavily in his chest every time. He also really like her doe-eyes, full of happiness and excitement each time she went on set, making Joe weak on his knees. Yes, she was absolutely a true beauty.

But things went down when they became friends and saw each other more and more, Ben was very happy that his girlfriend and his new friends were having fun together so he brought her everywhere. Joe felt himself falling harder. She was also a really fun person, always giggling at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny, she was definitively a good audience. Always a witty comment to tease back Joe, catching him off guard most of the time because he was noticing how similar they were and how much he wanted to know her more. Without Ben. But it was awful thoughts to have so he kept his mouth shut. Ben used to call (Y/N) sunshine and Joe never more agreed in his life, she was a literal ball of pure joy, in an eternal good mood and the red hair knew they could had been such a good match. He was just five years too short, life could really be unfair.

The other thing which wasn’t helping Joe about forgetting his feelings was how much (Y/N) was a touchy-feely person. She loved hugs and cheek kisses and everything that was friendly and totally innocent but it made Joe shivered every time. The other day, she cheekily pressed a finger on his nose, making a boop noise and Joe almost chocked at the gesture. She didn’t seems to notice how much this simple and childish act had make her friend blushed, Ben had just entered the room and nothing else existed anymore. Usually she only did the nose-boop to her boyfriend, loving to tease him and after that, Joe had think about the meaning, why she was suddenly so friendly ? Did that mean something ? Was he overthinking a stupid think ? He didn’t have the answer and wasn’t sure if he wanted them.

Joe knew he was too deep in with (Y/N) to not fall in love with her, after a year or so, during shooting, trying to repress his feelings for Ben’s girlfriend, it was worse than at the beginning. But during the seven next months, he saw her less, him and the cast were promoting the movie around the world and he didn’t think about her too much. He just knew she was with Ben in Italy for the shooting a new Netflix movie and he honestly thought that he was finally free of these stupid and forbidden feelings for (Y/N). He was so piss off with himself because Ben and (Y/N) were such dear friends to him and he could ruin everything if someone knew his real thoughts about her.

So when Ben invited everyone to celebrate his engagement with (Y/N), Joe was rather confident, his feelings were weaker and almost none existent at this point. Life was good again and he could hang out with his best mates without fearing to spill his feelings for (Y/N). But life wasn’t that easy. He should have know that. As soon as he stepped into the brand new house of Ben and (Y/N), he felt weird. Especially when Gwilym and Rami were doing bets about when (Y/N) would get pregnant. ‘In the next six months!’ Rami seemed very sure of himself and Joe’ stomach twisted uncomfortably. And then he saw her. Well, not really at first because she literally jumped on him, hugging him tightly and rambling about how much she had miss everyone. Her lips pressing in a loud Mwah! on his burning cheek and then she screamed for five minutes straight with Lucy about her engagement ring. The two girls gushing excitedly about how beautiful the jewellery was, looking at it in every angle of light possible, bouncing on their feet like kids in front of a candy shop.

Allen and his wife snorted loudly when Lucy sent a knowing glance to her boyfriend, Rami swallowed nervously at the silent meaning ‘what are you waiting to ask me the same question dumbass ?’ He could swore she actually mouthed the word dumbass.

Joe felt even weirder when he hugged Ben, who was telling him how happy he was to see him. Then the red hair looked back at (Y/N) and the guilt and shame were now very clearly the reason he felt weird. His feelings for (Y/N) hit him like a brick in his stomach, coming back even stronger than before. She was also prettier than he remembered or maybe it was just her glow from her recent engagement that was making her so breath-taking, she was literally shinning. The rest of the evening was blurry for Joe, he drank much more than necessary but it was the only thing he had to survive that night. Especially when Ben and (Y/N) stood up, his arm around her waist as he raised a toast at his future wife, telling everyone how much he loved her and how excited he was to spend the rest of his life with her by his side. The words of Ben weren’t the most painful for him, not even when he talked about having kids with her, no. The worst was the way (Y/N) was looking at him, her head raised toward the blond, eyes glossy and a smile of pure adoration on her features, like he was the only person in the room at this moment. It was love, pure and raw. Ben bowed to give her kiss and she beamed at the gesture, her fingers caressing his cheek so softly that it felt too intimate for Joe to watch. He wanted to do nothing else than go home and cry. And that what he did. After saying he was feeling sick, and it wasn’t a lie, only it wasn’t from the alcohol, but he kept this detail for himself, he left in a Uber and sobbed during all the way back to his place.

Joe made his best to avoid the couple during the next months, he was so ashamed of himself, he was supposed to be happy for his friends, not stupidly jealous. But he didn’t want to raise any suspicion and so he found excuses to not go mostly when (Y/N) was around, focusing on going out with only the boys. He even had a girlfriend! Her name was Molly, she was cute and adorably small and Joe liked her very much, she was really a nice girl. But she wasn’t (Y/N). He felt horrible because he was desperate to have a date at (Y/N) and Ben’s wedding, he couldn’t go alone, he would just break down. That why, when he noticed the way the waitress from his favourite café was looking at him, he asked her for a date. And from there, they started dating, making forget the pain in his heart for few moments.

Exactly eight months after the engagement party, it was the wedding day. Joe was sick, truly sick. The thought of watching the woman he was deeply in love with, marrying one his best friend was making him almost throw up. And he was the best man of Ben, like his life wasn’t enough of a joke but he couldn’t have said no to his friend. Despite being in love with the bride-to-be, he was happy for his friends, it was a bitter-sweet feeling.

“I’m so fucking nervous” Ben breathed as he watched himself in the mirror, straightening his vest for the million times. “What if she don’t come ? Maybe we planned our wedding too fast, maybe she is already far away and I’m gonna end up alone at the altar and–“

“Ben, relax, it’s just the wedding nerves which are talking” Joe put a friendly hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. “She loves you, it easy to see that mate, you and her belong together, she will come today, I promise you that” The red hair added with an emotional voice and Ben shook slowly his head, giving him a grateful smile.

“You’re right, she loves me and today we are going to get married” The blond took a deep breath then a sip of his neat whiskey – to calm his nerves but he was careful to not get drunk either – and readjusted his bow tie with shaky hands. He noticed how Joe discretely wiped his watering eyes and gave him a tight hug. “Don’t start crying now mate or I’m gonna cry too, I can’t go to the altar with puffy eyes” He joked with weak voice, making his best to swallow back his tears.

“I’m just so happy for the both of you” Joe replied with a sad smile. It wasn’t completely the reason for his tears but he wouldn’t never say the truth to Ben. “Let’s get you married, Jones”

"The future bride want to see you, best man" Lucy’s head popped up by the door and smiled fondly at Joe and Ben’s embrace.

"I’m coming" The red hair nodded and patted Ben’ shoulder. "I see you at the altar" He winked at the blond who chuckled lightly, still trying to shake out his nerves.

Joe followed Lucy in a long hallway until (Y/N)’s room. He took a deep breath before entering after the little blond, a bit anxious to see her in her wedding dress.

She was peering at the window, watching the guests walking to their seats for the ceremony. Joe’s breath itched in his throat at the sight. Now he was certain she never had been so stunning. Her white wedding dress was hugging her perfectly and wasn’t too classic, it was a true reflection of (Y/N) personality. She had a light makeup because I’m going to cry anyway! she had say to Lucy with an already glossy gaze. The little blond had left to check if everything was ready for the most important day of her friend. Joe had no idea for how long he stayed quiet, looking at her with pure wonder and so much fondness. The way her brows were frowning just a tad and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth were showing that she was nervous.

"You are beautiful" Joe breathed suddenly like he couldn’t keep it for himself anymore. (Y/N) jumped at the voice and turned around with a light giggle. "Absolutely perfect" It was probably the only day he could give her so deep compliments without seeming too desperately in love with her.

"Thank you Joe" She blushed and made a twirl on herself, making the red hair clapped. "You look good too, very nice suit" She smiled widely, her voice was sweating with excitement.

"Lucy said you wanted to see me ?" In a cheesy romcom it would be the perfect moment for (Y/N) to confess that she couldn’t marry Ben because she was in love with him instead. He would run away with her without a single hesitation, he didn’t care how mean that sounded, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But of course, that wasn’t the reason she called for him. Ben was the reason, her future husband and the love of her life.

"Is he okay ? Still want to marry me, right ?" Her fingers were fidgeting together as she sat on the sofa. "I’m so nervous"

"Ben is in the same state as you (Y/N). He is and I quote so fucking nervous that my ass is literally sweating, Joe, my ass is sweating!" The bride-to-be let out an airy laugh echoed in the room, her eyes glittering with adoration. "So yeah, he is nervous but he is very eager to marry you" Joe murmured, his gaze exploring every inch of her beautiful face, he didn’t want to forget this image.

"That sound like my Benny" She replied with a honey coated voice, her finger playing absent-mindedly with her engagement ring. Soon to be exchange for a wedding one. "I’m so excited Joe and so damn nervous too, what if I tripped on my way to the altar ? Oh my god, this is totally something that could happen to me !" She clasped her hand on her mouth with a loud gasp, her mind racing at the thought.

"I’m sure Ben would still marry you anyway" Joe chuckled and handed her a glass of bubbly champagne. She thanked him quietly and took a little sip, savouring the taste on her tongue. "I never saw you so stress before, you have no reason to doubt about your marriage" He gently rubbed her arm and she sighed deeply, her leg bouncing on the floor.

"I...I’m just...scared" She whispered, her eyes glued on the drink. "Sometimes I feel like Ben shouldn’t be with me, he is a freaking famous actor now and I’m still...me, the old and boring (Y/N)" She sniffled quietly before taking a bigger sip. "I’m afraid, one day he will notice that too, he could have any beautiful model or actress in the world but no, he is still with me and I know he loves me but...he could go for so much better" Her voice broke at the end of her sentence as well as Joe’s heart.

The red hair shook his head and grabbed her shoulders.

"(Y/N), look at me. This is bullshit okay ? Ben is crazy about you and in few minutes he will be waiting for you at the altar, you can’t think like that" She nodded slowly, her chest panting a bit with anxiety. "You are...I don’t even know how to describe how perfect you are, you’re funny and smart and incredibly caring, always brightening the room every time you step inside. And you are so beautiful, I wish you could see yourself the way I — the way Ben see you. He is madly in love with you" (Y/N) froze, blinking furiously and she wasn’t sure if Joe was really speaking about Ben anymore. The look in his eyes...she was sure he didn’t look at Lucy that way.

"Joe..." She didn’t know what she wanted to say or to ask, she was too confused right now.

Joe locked his gaze with her and saw the surprise in her eyes, he could see how she was wondering about his words, almost discovering his dangerous secret. And he never wanted to kiss her so badly before. Her pretty lips, covered in a light shade of pink, shinning and terribly inviting, seemed to call him. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. Instead he cleared his voice and stood up, placing his trembling hands deep in his pockets.

"Sorry I already took too much of your time, I need to go, Ben’s probably waiting for me" He gave her a fake smile and hugged her quickly. "You’re absolutely perfect for each other, stop doubting yourself, okay ?"

She nodded and watched him leaves, her mind clouded with questions. But Lucy came back right after, followed by (Y/N)’s dad and marrying Ben was the only thought floating in her mind.

The ceremony had been beautiful, in a little, cosy garden coated with flowers everywhere. It was like looking at a Disney movie and the bride and groom-to be were definitively looking like a prince and princess at the altar, both of their gazes glossy before the start. When (Y/N) had appear, Ben had gasp loudly, lips pinched together as he tried to shake away the tears. The first row of guest had let out a collective Aaww, all of them melting at the flustered Ben. The wedding symphony was echoing through the garden as (Y/N) walked slowly, her arm crossed tightly with her father’s, an adoring smile only destined to her future husband. Her cheeks were already soaked with tears, happy tears obviously. Joe, as well as Ben, didn’t look away from her for a split second, he couldn’t stop. For a minute it felt like she was walking to him, her glittering eyes looking at him and he smiled sadly, a shaky breath leaving his parted breath because he knew it wasn’t the truth.

That was almost the only thing he remembered from that night, booze helped him forget the rest. The vows had been so deep and sweet toward each other, promising eternal love then the kiss, loving and sweet one, sealing their union and putting definitively Joe out of the game. Which was a stupid thought really, because he never had been in the game to begin with, it always had been (Y/N) and Ben. He was just the idiot who was in love with the last person he should. He watched them all night, twirling together at the rhythm of the music, gazes locked with each other and smiling so widely, it was painful to watch for Joe.

"You’re okay Sweetheart ?" Molly plopped herself in his lap, throwing an arm around his neck as Joe was sitting alone, watching the others danced. He swallowed back a grimace at the nickname Sweetheart. He didn’t like it. The only time he loved it was during a drinking game, when (Y/N) and him were married —meaning they had to drink as much as the other did — and she had a lot of fun calling him Sweetheart during all the evening. Now, in Molly’s mouth, it just sounded stupid.

"I’m great" He replied before stealing another glass of champagne from a waiter.

"That was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it ?" Molly sighed as she watched the bride and groom sharing a sweet kiss, both of them giggling like kids. "They look so happy together" Ben made (Y/N) twirled on herself before catching her and pushing her flush on his chest, rubbing their noses together.

He hummed in agreement and gave her a light peck on the lips, knowing she was waiting for that. She smiled and blushed before resting her head on his shoulder sighing softly. Joe knew he was very selfish in his relation with Molly, she was clearly into him and, well, him...was trying to forget (Y/N), it wasn’t nice from to not be honest with her but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth.

Joe needed to forget about his feelings, it was an emergency now. Ben and her were freaking married, it had to stop. He was decided to. That why he didn’t understand how he could have made the biggest mistake of his life during that evening.

"(Y/N), your tan look so good on you ! I’m super jealous !" Lucy gushed when they all arrived to Gwilym’s new place. "And no bra mark ? Someone had been cheekily topless during her honeymoon" She grinned at (Y/N) who blushed a bit but smirked anyway.

"Believe me or not, most of my clothes disappeared as soon as we arrived in Bali" she giggled and shared an intimate glance with her husband who wasn’t far, listening to the conversation.

"Was too hot for clothes, sunshine" The blond replied and stole a kiss from the newly bride who happily deepened it, making there friends whistled. "And with tits like yours, wearing a bikini top would be a total insult to your body, too pretty for that" He playfully smacked her ass as she gasped loudly, throwing him a shocked look which quickly turned a soft one when he kissed her again and murmured a low I love you.

"Well, I guess your honeymoon went more than great" Gwilym smiled affectionately at the couple, taking a sip of his beer.

"It was perfect" (Y/N) gushed with dreamy eyes as they all walked in the little garden. The weather was really nice and the sky clear, they all sat in the garden chairs, drinks in their hands. Ben made grabby hands toward his wife and she rolled her eyes but sat on his lap anyway. "Silly" She chuckled and nested her head against his neck.

Ben told everyone about the honeymoon, how the place was a real little paradise and Joe was pretending that everything was okay. But it wasn’t. He was ashamed but he couldn’t forget Ben’s words about (Y/N)’s nipples. His thoughts were going wild and it was fucking wrong, his gaze wandering few times on her top, which she was wearing without a bra, letting the shape of her tits visible. Joe swallowed nervously at the sight, cursing himself.

Most of the night went like that, good mood, few drinks and Gwilym ordered pizzas for everyone as they all told each other the last gossips of their respective life. Joe felt lonely. Gwilym was with his fiancée, an arm around her shoulders, Lucy and Rami was cuddling in the bench and (Y/N) was still on Ben’s lap, his arms wrapped around her waist. And Joe was all by himself as Molly had other plans for that night.

Before it was time to go, Joe was in the bathroom, not feeling great. His heart was broken, spending all the evening with the sight of (Y/N) and Ben glued together was painful. And he also had way too much drinks. Spinning head, slurred words and twisted stomach. Pathetic.

"Oh, sorry!" (Y/N) exclaimed when she opened the bathroom door and found Joe, bended above the sink, looking pale. "You’re okay Joe ?" She frowned her brows and entered the bathroom, taking a closer look at her friend.

"Fu...fuckin perfect" He hiccuped before splashing water on his face.

"Someone is very drunk" (Y/N) shook her head with a little smile. "Come on, let’s order you an Uber. We’re all leaving anyway" She slid an arm around his waist when he almost tripped on his own feet, trying to take a step forward.

They slowly walked on the long hallway and Joe was sweating, she never had been so close to him for such a long time. He could feel her breath on his neck and there faces were only few inches from each other.

"Wait, I...give me a minute, m’ not feeling great" He laid against the wall, his eyes closed and took deep breath, doing his best to not vomit. "Fuck, my head" He whined, everything was spinning around and he hated that sensation.

"Joe, are you going to throw up ? Should I get Gwil ? You look really pale !" She bowed her head a little, reached eyes level with him and looked at him through her eyelashes.

"I just need a second" Joe protested, his heart beating furiously in his chest at the closeness with the woman he was in love with. Her pretty eyes was making him weak on his knees and the butterflies in his stomach were going crazy, suddenly he wasn’t feeling so sick anymore.

"You’re sure ? You don’t look—" Joe couldn’t take it anymore and in a very stupid and drunk gesture, he grabbed her neck and crushed his lips against her.

Tag list : @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy #ben x reader #request #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzelo x reader

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judehayward · 4 years

Text

lady gaga voice slowly fadin in: ju-Das juda-ah-ah… this depressed goblin bastard is honestly my fav male muse like i dnt typically stick w male muses tht long i struggle bt................. i’ve played him the longest of them all n always seem to return to him. jst cnt stay away. way 2 attached to this absurd little man. it’s nai btw!!!! (josefine on the main). launches right in to jude’s intro without further adieu..... (u can also find his playlist here) 🧙‍🎨

「douglas booth & cis-male」⇾ hayward , jude, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 23 years old. he is studying ART, living in moris and can be protective, laidback, nonsensical & apathetic. when i see him i am reminded of wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects, lead marbles instead of eyes. ⇽「nai & 23 & gmt & she/her.」

he pinterest:

me in the voice of a card magician performing on the street: round up round up pick a pinterest any pinterest!

ta-da it’s aesthetics:

lead marbles instead of eyes, a stolen hearse careening down the wrong lane, wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, bags under the eyes that are so big they could pack enough clothes for a three week vacation, a cigarette wobbling from your bottom lip as you squint against the sunlight, passing out on a stranger’s rooftop, placing sunglasses over the eyes of a biology lab skeleton, gangling around the place like shaggy minus his scooby snacks, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects

about tha Bitch:

born in sheffield in england, bt they went back and forth between there n san fran a lot

jude was an unhappy accident. his parents never rly used protection bc they were super Liberal n Au Naturel n believed in the pull out method bc… they were maniacs. bt then the ONE time they used a condom in an effort to b safety conscious it broke n hence…. jude was born

they just kind of ran w it bc they had such a passionate relationship tht they were like What The Hell…. may as well! itll be fine we’ll learn to be good parents n love him like normal ppl do

spoiler alert: tht didn’t work out

they were ok to him like they weren’t fully Bad bt they just found him to be a massive burden n hindrance to their plans. pretty absent n irresponsible. they literally….. had sex all day every day n acted like a pair of teenagers. it ws a super weird environment for a kid to grow up in bc he literally had no role models or… guidance or…. anything rly. occasionally they’d joke around w him or pretend they properly knew what grade he was going into but for the most part they just Didn’t Care the way parents shd. they lost his birth certificate n dnt remember what they put as his middle name so he’s jst kind of like hmmmm............. n gives himself a diff one every time ppl ask. past variations hv included: jude pauly hayward, jude maureen hayward, jude van winkle hayward. says all of these w a very straight face

despite this he does hv some nice memories w them. usually he definitely sees them fr holidays. frm being rly young their christmas tradition hs been to get a bunch of chinese food like a Banquet Feast n spend all day smoking n drinking into the early hours. perhaps not the healthiest or most responsible bt 😔 jude rly likes it it’s kind of the one time of yr he feels he has a proper family

they r both suuuuper into the arts. rly good sculptors bt they paint too n they actually own a successful gallery in sheffield n san fran

(trauma tw) as a result he grew up around a lot of creative n sometimes pretentious ppl. the friends of his parents were more present in his life than his ACTUAL parents bc they were always jetting off to diff countries to scout out new pieces fr their galleries n just have a gd time in beautiful places without…. the annoyance tht ws being responsible n looking after someone. tbh some of his parents friends were rly damaging too bt….i won’t go into that just yet. it doesn’t rly…need properly explaining bc jude never talks abt it anyway n it….is rather triggering so i’ll jst….leav it for now tbh. basically they just were Not Nice n jude had a lot of bad memories he keeps repressed bt he also??? has some gd ones..... it was a strange environment bt he’s a survivor

(death n grief tw) he hd to do community service bc he kind of… hd a bit of a breakdown before the funeral of his elderly neighbour who bsically raised him bc her kids rly didnt care abt her they jst wanted her inheritance?? so he… stole the hearse w her casket still in it n ws jst like… drivin around the place sort of… tryin nt to cry…..KJJFHSFKJGHKFG i mean. it isnt funny its actually sad bt :/ in a very bizarre n jude way. he gt caught n taken in fr questioning bt her son kind of realised hw… broken up abt her death jude ws n had a heart n didnt press charges. regardless he stil hd to do community service bc it ws like taken seriously even tho it ws his first proper offence. doin it rly exhausted n depressed him so when he wsnt doin tht he ws just hibernatin in his room……. this ws like 4 months ago nw............ just some fun lore fr u all

bc of how he ws raised he has a p cultured taste. he luvs classic lit n p much anything artsy. he can play piano 2 n sometimes gets rly high n thinks he’s mozart level gd at composing he’s jst going fking wild on the keys in a trance...... i mean he’s gd bt… chill

he’s rly sarcastic n so deadpan like he’ll say smthn completely ridiculous bt he’ll say it w his whole chest so sincere.... it’s rly hard to tell when he’s joking or serious honestly. has an overflowing secret sketchbook n if he cares abt someone he’ll probably secretly draw them. does NOT share these drawings w the person he hates being openly sentimental. at heart he is jst a very Sad Boy w lots of repressed issues like depression genuinely just does NAT giv him a single break bt he plasters over this w wise cracks n never discusses his emotions ever. he’s actually p decent or at least tries to b. he’s kind of like tht bit in superbad where michael cera gets rly drunk n makes a toast to women like tht energy...........

he has rly bad insomnia so he like never sleeps idk how he’s Alive straight up. please go to bed sir............. he always has rly sleepy eyes n rubs them tiredly mid conversation. he smokes a lot of weed to try n compensate fr this n make him tired bt he still struggles a lot

ANYWAY that aside he’s at radcliffe doing art, focusing on fine art like painting is............... the thing he luvs most...... his style is kind of.......... taking normal things n painting w surreal colours.... he likes A LOT of colour in his paintings which is kind of a stark contrast to his personality bc his world’s so.... washed out n grey............ lovs art n philosophy n literature n photography n music....

ummMMMMmm honestly idk i’m blankin on what else to say. ull find him smoking weed reading an american classic or gnawing at his thumbnail n getting charcoal smudges on all his clothes. wandering the streets in plaid pj bottoms n dr martens eating frm a cereal box without care in the world. he’s p broody n scruffy n he’s mostly here fr a laidback time....... doesn’t rly like when ppl take themselves too seriously........ likes strange ppl thinks the world is mde richer by them n likes when ppl can jst bounce back jokes at him without being like erm. u dont make sense mate. bc frankly he can come up w some strange stuff sometimes.............. talking to him cn b like navigating a dark n bendy road without a flashlight.......

(drugs tw) once did shrooms n woke up naked in the woods curled up in a pile of leaves. to this day he recounts this as his werewolf transformation. hs no idea hw he ended up there n when ppl r like are u not. concerned jude. tht is so strange? he jst shrugs like.............. dunno....................... suppose i’m jst a werewolf upon occasion. so casual abt it. jst truly does Not care abt most things at all..... almost to the point tht it’s concerning (sometimes way past the point tht it’s concerning too :/)

this is the desc on an aesthetic i mde of his style once n sums it up well!! ‘additionally: too many pairs of trousers, a hideous amount of white t-shirts all somewhat stained with charcoal, a jumper so thinly knit it almost looks sheer, chipped teale nail varnish, a cream corduroy jacket with a cigarette hole singed onto the cuff, vintage wiry reading glasses he almost never wears, a freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, a thrifted t-shirt with a warped bart simpson wearing a stethoscope with the caption ‘bard knwos cardiology’ and two crops hacked that way with kitchen scissors that he sometimes wears to paint.‘

EXPERT at rolling spliffs like jst. mkes them so precise n neat....... it’s his super power. his fav thing to smoke frm is banana flavour papers.................... linking 2 this he’s like. bad w emotions bt he does try..... once his friend (maggie) ws sad so he brought her a spliff wrapped in grape flavoured paper bc it’s her fav fruit n jst like. wordlessly gave it to her. it’s the thought tht counts.....

PLOTS!!!!!

plays bass in a band which cld b a fun connection to get together??? i picture the music being like surf rock type like........... mac demarco...... bt he also luvs elliott smith n glass animals n the cure n metronomy n neutral milk hotel n talking heads n radiohead n mazzy star n wolf alice...................... idk jst like.... within tht ballpark i suppose i imagine it being................

mayb ppl he shares classes w?????? i’d like someone tht does a similar course n they hang out tgether when it comes to trips fr the module to museums or exhibits or wtever................ they both stand in front of paintings analysing it rly wrong n saying stuff like hmmmmmmmmm....... i do declare i see a, uh..... large phallus protruding from the centre of this image...... moves something in me.......... n some elderly person looking at it besides them is like Ergh. sickened n disgraced. leaves w a brow severely furrowed

someone he smokes w on the moris rooftop late at night when he cnt sleep??? mayb they’re up n cnt sleep either fr whtever reason n it’s become an unspoken kind of ritual where they always clamber out n find each other there n jst wordlessly keep them company

jude is kind of like. protective almost to a fault sometimes........... mayb some guy he’s punched......................... if they hurt someone he cares abt........... typically it wld hv been a girl he ws kind of like. affected by his first relationship bc she had a bad home situation n ever since jst wnts..... to Protect it’s kind of like an automatic instinct ingrained in him nw 😔 all sounds very noble n well bt sometimes it cn b a bit of an escalation i wnt lie

perhaps a few hook-ups??? jude doesn’t tend to sleep w ppl he rly knows bc he just..... likes it to b an impersonal thing doesn’t like getting attached fr various reasons so mayb they only kno each other via this OR mayb he bent his rules a bit..... cld either work seamlessly or hv added drama if one side hs mre feelings or whtever

currently living in moris w 2 roommates bt i’d love some neighbours perhaps..... mayb someone tht lives directly nxt door to his room n is like ://// bc he plays music loud n weeds always drifting frm his window n mking their room smell if theirs is open too................. or mayb they get on..... mayb there’s a rly mean seagull tht lands on a branch n poos on pedestrians n they both commentate on it frm their windows like david attenborough...... they’re like he’s at it again. they’ve named him n everything

HONESTLY anything if u have an idea hmu i’d love 2 hear it.......... rubs my hands tgether in excitement to plot up a storm w u all

#ruhqintro #depression tw #death tw #grief tw #neglect tw #trauma tw #drugs tw

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Note

(Part 1) Hi hi could I ask for a match up? I'm an ISFP and Sagittarius. I can be goofy and sarcastic when I'm with people I'm comfortable with. I tend to be quiet and serious when I'm with strangers/focusing on my work. I'm also somewhat of a smol and violent person that knows how to defend herself lol. My intuition to judge someone bc off their vibes are usually correct but even so I can be dense when it comes to romance or basic needs. I don't even notice cuts I get till a day later lol

Hehe lolz now I know your secret identity! Anyways thanx for the request love! I hope you enjoy it! And I hope you are staying safe and well!

So I match you with………………………. Masamune

The first time the two of you interact was when he had a sword at your throat, asking you who you were and where you were from. You were shook! This man must be a complete psycho. You managed to get out your name, reiterating the story you had told Mitsunari and Nobunaga about you coming from the future. You low key thought he wasn’t going to believe you and just kill you. You were surprised, however, when he just shrugged, seethed his sword, and welcomed you to the past. The two of you chatted for a bit, and then he just left. He was definitely a rollercoaster mixed with the winds of a wild hurricane

The two of you are out in the market, joking and chatting. Masamune had visited you a few times since, and the two of you were now best buds. Masa made it his personal mission to show you 500 cool things from the past. The two of you went to a famous teahouse, well, according to Masa anyways. The place was packed, and the aroma of tea and baked goods filled the air. Masamune left you for a few minutes to go order the two of you tea. When all of a sudden, some total perv started hitting on you. You ignored him best you could and just waited for Masa to come back, but this creepo was not getting the hint. That’s when you lost your temper. You stood up abruptly; all eyes were now on the two of you. You told him if he muttered one more word to you, you would not be liable for the consequences. Needless to say, the creepo perv just kept talking to you; that’s when you grabbed his arm and flipped him. Once he was on the ground, you held his arm and placed your foot between his shoulder blades. This guy had pissed you off so much; you wished nothing more than to break his arm in two.

Masamune went to the counter to order the two of you some tea. He heard a commotion behind him and quickly turned around to see what was happening. His ocean blue eye widened in surprise as he had caught the exact moment that you had taken down some sleazy looking dude and now looked like you were going to pop his arm out its socket. Masa’s crystal blue eye gleamed in delight, he knew you were going to be a lot of fun. You had promised to surprise him, and seeing you flip a guy three times your size went beyond a surprise. He Leisurely walked over to you, holding the two teas in his hands. He couldn’t help but grin at you like a mad man. “Looks like you handled that all on your own kitten, you definitely are an amusing lass.” Masamune defused the situation by handing you your tea and grabbing you by the waist. He led you outside so the two of you could sit together and drink tea in the sun. Cue masa teasing the shit out of you for being smol but feisty. The two of you spent the rest of the tea date goofily making jokes and drinking tea.

One day while the two of you were out in the market, you heard a pleading cry for help. You stopped looking around, trying to locate the source of the sound. You and Masamune were on your way to your favorite tea house to chill and goof off work for a while. You carried on walking when you heard the sound again, you stopped abruptly and pulled Masa’s sleeve to get him to stop as well. He peered into your eyes questioningly, when finally, he to had heard what had brought you to a stop. It sounded like a cat in pain. You looked at him pleadingly. Masa simply gave you a dazzling smile, “Alright, lass, let’s go and find the poor kitten.” The two of you continued to listen while you walked, trying to locate the cat in need. Masa then stopped in front of a shop, you looked up at him, and he nodded his head in the direction of the shop. It was a shop that sold animal fur. The two of you walked around the shop, pretending to browse. You were feeling sick to your stomach, looking at the various animal rugs and coats. You had heard the sound again, coming from the back. You snuck to the backroom while the store owner was conversing with Masamune, and what you saw made you so angry. A baby tiger sitting chained up in a tiny cage, he looked so hungry and thirsty. You gave him some water, and some food from a bento meant to be delivered to Mitsunari. Your heart broke in two just, looking at the poor guy, and just as you were about to set the little cub free, the owner walked into the backroom with Masamune. Needless to say, the man was not happy that some random girl was in the back; luckily for you, Masamune covered for you. The two of you pretended to be in a relationship. The shop owners continued his conversation with Masamune about intending to turn the little cub into a small rug. Masamune’s face was stone cold; he shook the owner’s hand and asked if he could think about it. The two of you then left the store; you were on the verge of tears when Masa gave you a daring smile and said, “Let’s plan a jailbreak over tea.” You couldn’t help but instantly light up in happiness. The two of you met Mitsunari at the tea house to give him the bento, poor boy hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before. Although the poor boy just had to settle for half a bento, oops, you couldn’t help wanting to help a tiger in need. The two of you had told Mitsunari precisely what had just gone down at the fur shop, and Mitsunari’s eyes lit up; he definitely wanted to help. So, the three of you planed the cub’s daring escape over tea and dumplings.

The three of you went back to the store, but this time Masamune and Mitsunari would act as a distraction while you snuck through the back to set the cub free. The little guy was so happy; it started purring when it saw you come back for him. You whispered that he had to be quiet and not move until you could open the cage and set him free. You waited by the door for Mitsunari to swipe the cage and chain keys from the shops counter. Mitsunari appeared with the keys moments later; he said that the two you had to hurry as Masamune was starting to lose his patience with the shop owner. The two of you opened the cage door and undid all the chains. The little tiger cub leaped into your arms, licking you happily. You and Mitsunari snuck back out the back of the store with the cub gladly in your arms. Mitsunari went to the front of the store to signal Masamune that the cub had been safely extracted. Masamune left midway through the owner’s conversation. The three of you walked back to the palace wearing big smiles for a plan well executed. The next obstacle, however, would be to get mom and dad’s approval to keep the new pet. Dad Nobunaga’s approval was easy to get with enough bags of candy, but mama Yoshi was a bit trickier.

Guess who just so happened to be waiting at the gate for the three of you to arrive home safe. Hideyoshi was not pleased by the fact that you guys had brought a wild animal home with you. That is until you and Mitsunari explained the situation. Hideyoshi was still not happy, but he did also have a soft spot for animals. Plus, the fact that Masamune offered to care for it sweetened the deal, as Hideyoshi thought perhaps this would help ground Masamune a bit more. The three of you were so happy when Mama Yoshi agreed. The baby tiger was now sleeping peacefully in Masamune’s arms. The arms of his new dad. You visited Masa every day to play with the little cub, even feeding it and taking it for walks. Masamune had also grown fond of the little thing, but what made him most happy was the fact that he got to see you every day.

Your friendship slowly but surely began to morph into a full-blown relationship with the one-eyed dragon. You don’t have to even worry about being dense about romance or Masa’s basic needs cause Masamune is a very forward guy and tells you exactly what he wants and how he is feeling. He loves his lil kitten and will spoil you rotten. He will put so much love and effort into making sweets for you to share on your tea dates. This boy loves your drawings and writings and will often steal them straight out of your sketchbook and hang them up in his room, displayed for all to see. He loves receiving letters from you when he is off fighting. He will send you back poems of how much he misses you

All and all, you are the cutest couple around, always having fun and joking around. Whenever the two of you are together, lots of laughs and good times follow. The two of you could often be found playing with your lil tiger cub or cuddled in each other’s arms, just enjoying a lazy day together.

Other Potential matches..................Nobunaga

Thanx Love; hope you enjoyed it!

#masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikesen matchup #masamune matchup #match ups #matchups

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mistersshelby · 5 years

Text

the woman assassin | part two

part one | part two

hi!! thank you for reading part one, i hope you enjoy part two!! pls send me any feedback good or bad i like hearing from you! idk when part three will be up bc i’m kinda just fucking around with this but stay tunedddd. -S.

When they walk into his house, she tries to keep the look of awe off her face, taking in how large and grand his home is. She knew he was well off, everyone in Birmingham and even outside knew of the Shelbys… But this?

A little boy turns a corner and starts running straight towards Tommy, yelling “Daddy!” over and over and for the first time Clara sees a smile stretch across Tommy’s face. He’s quite beautiful when he smiles.

Seconds after Tommy scoops the boy in his arms, a nanny rounds the corner with a baby girl in her arms who also reaches her outstretched hands towards Tommy. Clara has difficulty swallowing her jealousy as she watches him with his children, a hand reflexively coming to her now empty belly.

“Daddy, who’s that?” The boy asks as he looks over Tommy’s shoulder.

“Charles, Ruby, this is Miss Clara, she’ll be staying with us for a bit.” Tommy says, suddenly remembering Clara’s behind him. She warmly smiles and waves at them both.

Tommy, becoming serious again, hands the children back off to their nanny and waits until they’re out of the room to turn to Clara, “You are never to be alone with them, do you understand?”

Clara stares at him, “Mister Shelby, I would never harm a child.” Tears burn at the back of her eyes as she thinks of her own child, killed before ever having the chance to live.

“I have no reason to believe that and I’ve put my children in danger with my work before. I won’t again and it’s not up for discussion.”

“When will I be here that you wouldn’t be?”

“Tomorrow when I go to discuss the conditions of our agreement with my family.”

“Shouldn’t I be there for that?”

“No. I will speak to you about it once the conditions have been set.”

She snorts, “Well that sounds very inclusive, thanks.”

Tommy stares at her before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one, neglecting to offer one to Clara, “Mrs. Whitmore, you’ll do well to remember that I’m bringing you into my home generously when I could offer you up to the police who are very good friends of mine, probably for a hefty reward. I know you killed your husband and I know you’ve lied to me about your name and it would not take me long at all to discover what man you actually killed whose name is not Whitmore.”

Clara’s skin has paled significantly, but she doesn’t falter, “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m simply giving you a choice, Mrs. Whitmore. Either you do this my way and politely thank me for my hospitality or I go to the police, do I make myself clear?”

She glares at him, “Crystal, Mister Shelby.”

“Good,” He puts out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, “I’ll show you to the guest room then.”

***

Clara has been staring at the ceiling of her temporary room for a while now, trying and failing not to think of her past, but with nothing else to do while Tommy’s away, traumatic memories play one after the other like a series of Hollywood films. Except there’s no happy ending.

She was almost drifting off to sleep when there was a loud bang from downstairs. Thinking it sounded like a gunshot, she shot up from bed and ran to the window. She didn’t see anyone outside, but there was another gunshot and now crying from the children Tommy had left in the house.

She ran to the door of her bedroom, but it was locked from the outside. Swearing, she picked up a heavy metal vase and swung it at the doorknob until it broke and she could swing the door open. There were a couple more gunshots that sounded like they were coming from downstairs. She quickly glanced around the room for something she could use as a weapon and quickly grabbed the fire poker before heading in the direction of the children’s cries.

There was a lot of silence as she traveled to the children’s room and she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. But the children were still crying, that much was true. Just as she was getting ready to put her guard down, bullets began penetrating the floor beneath her. One grazed her shoe and she tried to dampen the panic that threatened to suffocate her. The children were still crying which meant they were still alive, maybe injured. Where was the damn nanny?

When she went into the children’s room, the nanny was nowhere to be found. Just little Charles cradling Ruby to his chest in an attempt to calm her though his own face was stained with tears.

“Come, little one. I’m gonna get you both out of here.” Clara coaxed with her hand.

“Where’s daddy?” He asked miserably.

“He’ll be back soon.” She promised, “I’ll take you to him.”

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere, little lady.” A burly voice said behind her. Clara reacted immediately, spinning and swinging the fire poker blindly. The quickness of her attack knocked her assailant off guard and off balance which gave her time to knock the gun out of his hand. She kicked him to the floor for good measure before scooping up the gun and pointing it at his head. She could hear Charles whimpering quietly behind her as Ruby wailed.

“I don’t want to blow your brains off in front of the children,” Clara cocked the gun, “But I will if I have to. You have five seconds to get out of my sight.”

The man had his hands up and seemed to be shaking with fear, “Please—“

“One—“

“I— I have a family.”

“Then you better start running home to them, two.” He scrambled to his feet, stumbling. “Three.” He looks over his shoulder at her still raised gun as he stumbles away, “Four.” The man practically falls down the stairs and Clara sighs, this is absolutely pathetic. “Five.” She hears the door downstairs swing open and shut. Walking over to the window of the children’s room, she sees him running away from the house, looking over his shoulder every now and then to see if she’s followed. She uncocks the gun and sticks it in her boot before turning to the children. “Come now, let’s go find your father.”

“We don’t know you. Daddy said not to go anywhere with strangers.”

Clara smiled and kneeled down so that she was eye level with the boy, “That’s very smart of your Daddy, you can’t trust anyone these days. But do you think your Daddy would let a stranger stay in your home? I’m no stranger, love. Promise. Wouldn’t dream of hurting you. I just want to take you to your Dad, okay?”

Charles seems to consider this for a moment, looking from Ruby to Clara a few times before nodding. “Splendid. Let’s go get a car.”

“You know how to drive? I didn’t know women could drive.” Charles says in wonder.

Clara chuckles, “Women can do anything a man can, sometimes we do it even better than them.”

***

When they pull up to Shelby Company Limited, Charles immediately jumps out with Ruby in his arms and inside. Clara takes a moment to pull herself together before entering after him.

“—Miss Clara saved us though, knocked the bastard on his arse and then chased him out with his own gun. Then she brought us here.”

“Did she now?” Tommy spoke, smiling casually at his son while everyone else looked to be in shock. Ruby was being held by a woman Clara assumed to be Lizzie. “I see you passed my test.”

Clara blinked at him, “Your what?”

“That man. I sent him there. Wanted to see if you’d save your own arse or if you’d rescue my children. If you’re a peaky blinder now, I need to know that you’re not a coward and you’d be willing to stick your neck out for the rest of the pack.”

“You put your children in danger to test me?” Clara was seething now. Lizzie didn’t look too pleased either, but apparently knew enough to stay quiet.

“They were never in any danger. But, you? I told the man to kill you if you didn’t protect the children.”

Clara scoffed, “That pathetic excuse of a man? He couldn’t have killed me if my hands were tied behind my back. And you’re insane for ever risking your children’s lives like that. The irresponsibility, the selfishness. I would do anything to have children as beautiful as yours,” She blinks away the tears in her eyes, “But you would rather use yours as pawns in whatever game you think you’re playing. You’re a disgrace.” Clara spits before storming out.

It’s a few moments and some angry swipes at her tears later before she hears someone follow her, “I don’t want to be a fuckin’ Peaky Blinder anymore, you can call the police on me, I won’t take part in endangerment of children.”

“I already told you they weren’t in any danger.”

She rounded on him, “You don’t know that! You don’t know what that man would’ve done when you weren’t there! He could’ve missed! He was shooting through the floors from downstairs, did you tell him to do that?”

Tommy swallowed, “You’re right. I made a mistake.”

“You—“ Clara stopped, “What?”

“You’re right,” Tommy leans against a wall and pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to Clara, “I’m selfish. I love my children, but… I don’t think things through all the time. Need someone to keep me in line.”

Clara slowly takes a smoke from him before he snaps his case shut, “Isn’t that what your wife is for?”

He shakes his head, “Lizzie isn’t my wife.”

She frowns, “But… your wedding ring?”

“My wife died. Grace. It was my fault. I was always putting her in danger, too.”

Clara took a long drag, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement, “I’m sorry about your child.”

Clara froze, “What are you talking about?”

“It’s quite obvious with the way you talk about children. Is that why you killed your husband? Did he kill your child?”

She drops her cigarette to the ground and stomps it out, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shrugs, “Okay, I’ll find out eventually. Would you come back to the house now so we can discuss the conditions of your employment?”

“I just told you I don’t want to be a Peaky Blinder.”

“And I just told you that I need someone to keep me in line.”

“It looks like you have a bunch of people to do that for you.”

He shakes his head, “These people, I love them, but… I don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re doing. I built this company from the ground. They just came along for the ride. Why should they know better than me?”

“But you think I would know better than you? I don’t know anything about business or a company.”

“No, you don’t. But you’re not selfish. You seem to care about people, maybe too much. I just need someone to tell me when I’m unnecessarily hurting others.”

“Those are some big assumptions to make about someone you just met and volunteered to murder a man almost immediately upon meeting you.”

He shrugs, “You volunteered to murder a bad man. You saved my children. Seems pretty fair to me. You’re also the only woman I know who could beat me in a fight which means you could physically keep me in check.”

“You think I could beat you in a fight?” Clara asked, eyebrows raised.

He puts out his cigarette, “I don’t really want to find out, but yes, I do believe you could. Will you please come with me back to my house so we can discuss your employment?” He repeated again.

Clara sighed, “Fine.” Tommy pushed himself off the wall and guided her to his car, opening the passenger seat for her, “What about the children?”

Tommy shut the door behind her, “Lizzie has them.”

“You seem to trust her an awful lot and she’s the mother of your child, but you don’t marry her. Why?”

He starts the car, “Why did you kill your husband, Clara?” She swallows and stays silent as he pulls away from the building, “That’s what I thought.”

“Can I have my knife back now?” She asks absently when the car ride became too silent.

“It’s locked up in my bedroom. I’ll get it for you later.”

“Will I still be staying in your house?”

He nods, “Until you kill Sabini, then we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay.”

“Does Lizzie live with you?”

He shakes his head, “What is your fascination with Lizzie?”

“Just trying to figure out your relationship. I’m curious to see who the infamous Thomas Shelby spends his time with.”

He pulls up to his enormous mansion and it once again takes Clara’s breath away, “Lizzie and I fuck occasionally and it’s nothing more than that. She happened to give me a child who I’m very grateful for and so I take care of her. I give her a job, I give her a home, I give her protection. That’s all. Satisfied?”

Clara shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

Tommy comes around to open the door for her and they go inside, Clara following Tommy into his office. “Alright, the terms of your employment are fairly simple. You fight or dispatch anyone I order you to. You protect anyone I order you to. If you have reason to not want to dispatch the target I give, I’m willing to hear, but you’ll have to be very convincing. If at any point you refuse to dispatch a target and we cannot come to an agreement, I am free to terminate your employment. Understand?”

“What do I get in return?”

“I won’t turn you into the police for the murder of your husband, in fact I will order the police to stop searching for your husband’s murderer as soon as you give me a name. You’ll have a place to live and anything else you may need and you’ll be paid more than fairly every time you do a job for me.” He pushes a piece of paper towards her, “Here’s the written contract, I paraphrased everything, but it’s all there. You’re welcome to read it over before you sign, I want it on my desk by tomorrow morning. If you decide not to sign, you’re free to leave.”

“And you’ll tell the cops about me?”

He shrugs, “Haven’t decided.”

Clara bites her lip, “As a peaky blinder do I get to come to the meetings? Have a say in them?”

“No. Those are family only.”

“That doesn’t really seem fair. How am I supposed to keep you in line if I’m not at the meetings?”

Tommy eyes her carefully for a few moments before sighing and taking back the contract. He scribbles something quickly at the bottom and hands it back to her.

“‘Allowed at all meetings for Shelby Company Limited, but only allowed to speak to question Thomas Shelby’s moral decisions.’” She reads and then looks back to Tommy. He doesn’t so much as arch an eyebrow. Clara sighs, “Fine, good enough I guess.”

“This is a very generous offer.” Tommy said, sounding a bit tiffed that she wasn’t being grateful.

Clara’s pen glides quickly across the bottom of the page, she omits her last name, “Yeah, thanks.” It doesn’t sound genuine.

“I’m gonna need that name, to tell the police.”

“That’s okay, if they take me you can just come bail me out.” Clara smirked and walked out of the room.

“It won’t be hard for me to go to the police and ask them about the man who was murdered whose wife disappeared after.” He called after her.

“Then what are you waiting for, Mister Shelby?”

He stared after her shaking his head and, despite himself, he smirked.

***

okay so i’m gonna tag anyone who replied or reblogged the first post, if you want your name removed pls let me know (:

@mariamermaid @gingertaurus @tommy-scum @lil-black-heart

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby fic #mine

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yeontanismypresident · 6 years

Text

Our One and Only | 03

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: BTS x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (but not really angst bc I suck at angst)

Warning(s): Yoongi crying )): , Hyuk is an asshole, lots of cussing, someone’s fist hits someone’s face, violence, the numbers aren’t real btw, talk about verbal and physical abuse, uhh yeah I think that’s it, OH it’s pretty badly written bc life is tough man but enjoy!

Summary: The members didn’t think they could be any more content than they were at the moment. They were getting to become known worldwide and have inspired a significant amount of other hybrids to follow their aspirations. However, when Y/n strolled into the room, they realized they could turn out to be quite a lot more satisfied.

If you’d like to be tagged, let me know in the comments!

Prologue, 01, 02, 03, 04,

Chapter Three

Hyuk swung the door open, Yuna following behind him. Taking a deep breath in, you followed as well. When you walked in you could see all of the guys glaring at your boyfriend with distaste, tension strong in the air. Yet, as soon as you came into their line of sight, the glares softened, smiles gracing their faces, the air feeling light and happy once again. You nervously smiled back as you stood in between Yuna and Hyuk. Your boyfriend took your hand and the boys all lowly growled and glared at your joined hands. For some strange reason you didn’t want to make them angry. You could pass it off as not wanting to offend them, but you knew you were just insecure of what they thought. So, not wanting to anger them any further, you tried to pull your hand out of Hyuk’s grasp. Though this proved to be difficult as he just kept tightening his grip.

You cleared your throat, trying to lighten the mood, “Hi.” The sound of your voice seemed to calm the stiff hybrids.

The golden retriever, who you remember him introducing himself as ‘Hobi’ stepped forward. “Hello!” he said brightly, his tail wagging back and forth in excitement. It was cute how excited he got when meeting new people and you couldn’t help but to giggle. His ears twitched and his eyes lit up when he heard it.

“Hello, thank you for coming back here,” Namjoon said as he held his hand out to you. Shaking his hand, you smiled politely. As you let go of his hand, his smile somewhat left his face but he was quick to make it return before you could notice.

Jin grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, “Hello again beautiful.” You could feel your cheeks burning as your eyes widened. Hearing Hyuk scoff, you were reminded of his presence and coughed awkwardly. Feeling his hold on your hand tighten, you glanced at him and saw him glaring with a frown on his face. Feelings of guilt slowly built up inside of you. Here you were allowing some guy to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend.

Namjoon cleared his throat, gesturing to the two couches in the corner of the room, “Why don’t we sit?”

The three of you followed behind them. You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and sat down in the middle. Hyuk was about to sit by you, but Jimin beat him to it with Taehyung sitting on your other side. You looked apologetically to Hyuk as he huffed and sat on the other couch. Hoseok sat in front of you, leaning back on your legs. Jin sat on the other side of Taehyung with Jungkook choosing to sit by Jimin. The two remaining boys, Yoongi and Namjoon, sat on the floor either side of Hoseok. You knew without even looking that Hyuk was glaring at them all.

“Would you like me to sit by you baby?” you asked him as you went to get up. Having all of them sitting so close to you was becoming a little too overwhelming. Before you could fully stand, Jimin wrapped his tail around your waist and Taehyung put his arm around your shoulders while the rest of the boys growled.

Hyuk raised an eyebrow, “Actually yeah, I would like it if my girlfriend would come sit by me.”

“Aunt Y/n? Where can I sit?” Yuna quietly ask you before a fight could break out. You were grateful she said something because you knew how bad Hyuk’s anger could get and you also knew hybrids had intense instincts.

Before you could answer her, Jimin held his arms out to her, “You can sit on my lap cutie!” You heart skipped a beat as you saw him pull her onto his lap. He looked so adorable interacting with her. Yuna smiled big as she looked at him with admiration. He was her favorite after all.

“Can I pet your ears?” Yuna’s question brought you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes widened, “Yuna! You can’t just ask that!” You turned to Jimin as you apologized, “I’m so sorry Jimin-ssi.” He just smiled at you and allowed Yuna to pet his ears. You smiled as he started purring, the sound relaxing you further.

Everyone broke off into their separate conversations. Jimin and Jungkook were talking to Yuna, while Namjoon and Hoseok were quietly whispering to each other, glancing at Hyuk every once in a while, and Yoongi was just sitting there silently. As you were talking to Jin and Taehyung, you could feel someone’s eyes on you. Thinking it was Hyuk, you looked at him only to find out he was on his phone. Tilting your head to the side, you looked around the room to see who it was. Your breath hitched as soon as you made eye contact with Yoongi. His gaze held so much pain and regret that you had to avert your eyes. He let out a whimper and the noise caused everyone to look at the two of you.

“Jagi..” Yoongi’s voice was quiet and he timidly put his hand on your knee. He let out another whimper when you flinched away from him. When tears gathered in his eyes, Hoseok put his arm around him.

Hyuk cleared his throat and crossed his arms, “I’d like if you wouldn’t call her Jagi. Only I can do that. Besides, she’s afraid of you. Don’t you remember?” A smirk was present on his face as he looked Yoongi in the eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You knew Yoongi felt bad about what had happened and it angered you that Hyuk was being so inconsiderate.

You expected Yoongi to retaliate and start a fight, but were shocked to see him only tense up before leaving the room quickly, his tail wrapped around his waist and his ears down. It was strange to see him looking so vulnerable. Yuna had told you how he acts like he doesn’t care, but you could also remember him saying how much of a softie he was. You were brought out of your thoughts when Hoseok follow him, sending a heated glare in your boyfriend’s direction. For some strange reason, you felt your chest hurt when they left. Rubbing your chest lightly, you looked back to the rest of the group. The BTS members that remained looked at you knowingly. You were about to ask if Yoongi would be okay, but Hyuk spoke up.

“Is he always such a baby?” he snorted and smugly looked at the guys. They all growled at him, their tails swaying in anger, their eyes staring daggers at him.

Surprisingly it was Jungkook who spoke up, “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

“Why don’t you make me bunny,” Hyuk spat out at Jungkook and sniggered when all he did was take a deep breath and turn around. He chuckled at Jungkook’s back, “That’s what I thought. Poor little shy bunny can’t do shi-” He was cut off by Jungkook’s fist hitting his jaw. You gasped and covered your mouth as Jungkook fell on top of him, continuing to land punches on his face. Yuna started yelling and crying as the boys grabbed a hold of him and hauled him off of your boyfriend.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you ran over and helped him up off the floor. Yuna followed behind you and grabbed your hand tightly. Just then, Yoongi and Hoseok walked through the door into the room. The frigid atmosphere made them stop in their tracks and become on guard. Their sharp eyes quickly looked around the room to see what happened.

Hoseok was the one to break the stressful silence, “Uh what happened here?” No one uttered a single word, making you bit your lip anxiously. God, you didn’t know what you would do if they all started fighting again. You especially didn’t know how to feel now that Yoongi was back. On one hand you were excited he came back, but on the other hand you were slightly afraid. Yet somewhere deep down inside of you, you knew he would never intentionally hurt you.

Hyuk wiped his lip, looking up at Jungkook straight in the eyes, “You’re lucky you’re in some famous band or else you’d be dead.” Your eyes became wide as you stared at him in disbelief. Was he stupid? Why was he threatening a famous person? A hybrid at that!

“Y/n, why don’t you take Yuna and go buy some merch? It’s on us,” Namjoon said as he waved over a security guard proceeding to tell him something all the while keeping his eyes locked on Hyuk. Said security guard nodded and led both you and Yuna out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind you, you could hear someone inside start yelling, other voices joining in. You could feel yourself start to panic, not wanting anyone to get hurt anymore.

Looking away from the door, you tightened your grip on Yuna’s hand and followed the guard down a hallway. Once you guys got to the little store they had, you looked down at your niece, “Okay Yuna, choose what you like and I’ll get it for you sweetie.” Yuna gasped and looked at you with shining eyes, excited to be able to get BTS merch. Like she always told you, you could never have too much.

“Ma’am, Mr. Kim said he would pay for it. So you don’t have to worry about money,” the security guard said as he held up a shiny, silver card. From what he had said you could tell it was Namjoon’s credit card.

You put your hands out in front of you, stuttering slightly with eyes opened wide in disbelief, “Oh! No thank you! I can pay for myself. He doesn’t have to worry about paying for me haha..” You trailed off as he tried to hand the credit card to you. Key word being tried as you quickly moved away from him. Walking over to where Yuna was looking at some t-shirts, you heard the man clear his throat. Pretending to not have heard him you stood next to your niece, “So Yuna Tuna, what have you thought of getting?”

“There’s so much I wanna get, but I don’t want to waste your money and Appa only gave me ₩50,000,” Yuna pouted as she put the shirt back. In her arms she already held two shirts and a poster. You were about to reply, telling her she could get whatever and you’d pay for it, but it seems like the security guard, who was starting to get on your nerves by the way, beat you to it.

He picked the t-shirt Yuna had previously put down back up and handed it to her, “You can get this Ms. Yuna. Rm-ssi said he’d buy it for you.”

Okay, now he was really getting on your nerves. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the man. Why didn’t he get the hint you could pay for it? Actually, why did Namjoon think you couldn’t pay for it? Did he pity you?

Yuna gasped and grabbed the piece of clothing from his hands, smiling up at him and then at you. Seeing her so excited made you soften your tight stance. You could always pay Namjoon back. Granted it might take you a while, especially after seeing how much Yuna was getting. So far, she had six shirts, two different tote bags, a headband, and another one of their CD's.

"Yuna, don't get too much okay? It's not nice to spend all of someone's money," you said as you followed behind her.

She looked back at you as she put everything on the counter to be checked out, "But Namjoon said I could get anything." A pout was present on her face as the cashier rang up her merchandise.

"I know he did sweetie, but it's still not polite to spend people's money. It's always a good thing to be independent and not rely on someone," you voiced as pulled your wallet out. Just because Namjoon said they would pay for it didn't mean you weren't going to try and pay for it yourself. You were a strong and independent woman after all.

As you and the little girl had a stare off, the cashier had finished ringing the items up and cleared their throat, "That'll be ₩170,000 please." The security guard handed the lady the credit card before you could whip yours out.

Huffing, you crossed your arms, slightly pouting, not knowing the rest of the boys were standing behind you. Someone coughed, making you turn around in shock. As you turned around, you swore you heard one of the boys mumble out the word 'cute'. You waved awkwardly, completely embarrassed they had seen your small act.

"Namjoon-sii! Thank you for letting me get all of this merch!" Yuna bowed and looked up at him in admiration. You could tell just by looking at her interact with them how much she admired them and the thought made your heart swell. She was too cute for her own good.

While Yuna was talking to the boys, showing them what she got in the process, you walked over to stand next to your angry boyfriend. You leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Hey baby, how are you doing?"

"How am I doing? Really? Are you really asking me that right now?" he scoffed, shaking his head and shifting away from you. He didn’t understand how you could be so idiotic at times. Like right now, how you were just letting them talk about your relationship with him and not even say anything was making his temper rise to dangerous levels.

Leaning away from him, you tried to hide the hurt shown on your face, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay...”

“This is why she shouldn’t be dating you. You treat her like shit,” Jungkook’s broke into the conversation. Jimin brought Yuna over to look at some of the posters and you silently thanked him. You really didn’t want her to hear them fight. Again.

Hyuk looked the bunny hybrid in the eyes, “Oh you really don’t know when to shut your mouth bunny.”

“I told you not to fucking call me that,” Jungkook spat at Hyuk, the rest of the boys, excluding Yoongi, tried to calm him down. Yoongi was just staring at you intensely.

“Hyuk, you need to calm down,” your voice was soft, trying to calm the agitated man.

He ripped his arm out of your grasp and shifted his glare to you, “Do you not hear what they are saying right now Y/n? Are you really that fucking dumb?” When all you could do was stare at him, he grew unnerved and raised his hand. You flinched, expecting to feel the sting, but was met with growling instead. There, stood in front of you, with Hyuk’s wrist in his own hand, was Yoongi. Your heart skipped a beat. Yoongi. He stopped Hyuk from hitting you.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her or I’ll fucking break both of your hands,” Yoongi’s words were low, a threatening growl in the back of his throat. Your boyfriend went to raise his other hand, but was stopped by Hoseok grabbing it.

You walked around both Yoongi and Hoseok, voice quiet and a slight tremble to it, “I think it’d be best if we left. Thank you for allowing us backstage to hang out and thank you for buying Yuna things. I greatly appreciate it.” Finishing your words, you bowed low and called Yuna over.

“Wait, Y/n, can we at least get your phone number? We want to hang out some more...” Jimin trailed off as he saw the look Hyuk was giving him. Saying yes meant you would disappoint your boyfriend...but saying no meant you’d be hurting seven people. And you know what they say, majority always wins.

Glancing between both boys, you made up your mind, “Of course you can Jimin-ssi.” Hyuk’s head snapped towards you, but you ignored it. It wasn’t technically your fault. He was the one who got in a fight with them. Not you. Plus, you felt this certain pull making you want to get to know them even more.

Grabbing Jimin’s phone, you typed in your number then handed it back to him. A few seconds later and your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You thought better and decided to take a look at it when Hyuk was asleep. Bidding them goodbye, you left behind Hyuk with Yuna’s hand in your own. She happily skipped next to you, her purchases in her unoccupied hand.

The ride back to your apartment was silent and tense. You had tried to make conversation with Hyuk, but he just tightened his grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white. Taking the hint, you stayed silent and looked out the window. Your phone kept buzzing, so you pulled it out to see several messages from new numbers.

+820245674823: Hey Y/n-ah! It’s Jimin! ^^

+820257609483: This is Hobi!

+820284763947: Hello, Y/n, it’s Namjoon (:

+820248576930: Jungkookie is here!

+820274539274: Hello worldwide beautiful (;

+820247593294: Y/n!!! It’s Tae ((::

+820284639292: Yoongi...

You smiled and saved their numbers in your contacts, frowning when you saw Yoongi’s message. You could sense he still felt guilty towards what had happened and it made you sad. Opening a new chat, you typed out a message just to Yoongi.

You: Hey Yoongi-ssi, I wanted to tell you that what happened today isn’t a big deal. I forgive you and hope we can be friends in the future! ^.^

Remembering you left the others on read, you quickly answered them.

You: Hey guys! It’s Y/n ;;

Jiminie: Y/n!

Namjoonie: (:

Kookie: Do you play any games?

Hobi Hobi~: Hi cutie!

TaeTae: If you do let’s get together and play!!

Hearing Hyuk scoff, you quickly answered Taehyung and Jungkook. Afterwards you silenced your phone and put it away. As soon as you got home, you picked up a sleeping Yuna and brought her into your guest room. You placed her on the bed, tucking her in, and giving her a light kiss to the forehead. Back in the living room you saw Hyuk sitting there on the couch.

When he saw you come in, he stood up and crossed his arms, “So. Let’s have a talk, shall we?” You gulped and slowly sat down, him joining you although a distance was between you.

“What do you want to talk about?” you quietly spoke, afraid talking too loud would anger him even more and wake Yuna up. As much as you didn’t want to talk about today, you knew you had to. Especially if you didn’t want Hyuk to break up with you. You had spent so much time with him and you did truly love him.

He scoffed and gave you a burning gaze, “Oh I don’t know maybe about how you stayed silent when they were shit talking our relationship?” When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “Or do you wanna talk about how you apparently almost kissed one of them? Hmm?”

“I didn’t mean to. We were just staring at each other and next thing I knew we were both leaning in...” trailing off towards the end, you gazed at the coffee table suddenly imagining what it would have felt like to actually feel Jimin’s lips on your own...

“Damn it Y/n! Stop daydreaming about them!” Hyuk’s loud voice made you jump, not even realizing you had stopped listening to him.

You looked down at your clasped hands, “I don’t get why you’re so mad..”

“Are-Are you fucking serious? Tell me you’re joking,” he was getting louder and louder the more the conversation dragged on. You could tell he was fuming and you really did want to calm him down, but sometimes you just didn’t know what to say. And right now was one of them as all you could get out was a small ‘uhh..’

He stood up abruptly and started pacing, “I swear to God you’re so fucking dumb sometimes! They were blatantly telling us we don’t belong together! And all you did was stand there and act like they weren’t being complete assholes!” He was almost yelling at this point. It was when you were once again not paying him any attention that he finally did yell, “Again! You’re not listening to me again!”

“I’m sorry...” you said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear you. You hated when anyone so much as raised their voice at you, so hearing him yell at you made you extra quiet and cautious.

He slammed his hand down on your coffee table, causing you to jump. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you thought back to when he was going to hit you. Was he going to try again? And if he did what were you going to do? No one was here to stop him. Sure, he had yelled at you and verbally abused you when he was really fired up, but never has he tried to physically hurt you. Maybe it was best if you never talked to the members of BTS if it meant he wouldn’t hit you…

“Hyuk,” your voice rang louder and steadier than you anticipated, but it had gained his attention. “I’m sorry for everything that happened tonight. I promise I won’t talk to them at all,” you continued as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. You blamed it on the guilt you were feeling, but you knew you were in fact just scared of what he could possibly do. Pulling up the groupchat, you typed out two simple sentences.

Y/n: I’m sorry, but I think it’d be best if we forgot we ever met. Please, never contact me again.

Hyuk sighed as he sat down beside you, “Thank you. That’s all I wanted baby. You’re doing the right thing. Now, let’s go to bed. Okay?” He kissed your head and walked off to your bedroom, with you trailing slowly behind. If you were doing the right thing, why did your heart hurt so much?

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