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sunarinluvr · 3 years

Text

|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry.

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom.

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head.

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer.

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways”

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers.

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said.

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting.

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early.

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner.

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner.

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice”

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off.

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up.

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late.

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

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levisgirll · 3 years

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Hi! It's me again the levi hc anon haha.. How are you doing? I was wondering if you could do a hc on Levi having a crush who's good with kids. OR a scenario where he doesn't still know his crush that well and they're in an orphanage and a kid runs to her yelling "Mama!" and then Levi's like 'I lost my chance with her.. She's not single" and then he somehow gets to know that she doesn't have kids and she is single. Thanks!

𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: Omg hello there! thanks for coming back with another request 🥺💕 I am doing alright (just getting so tired nowadays cause of work-) I hope you are well though! also, this is such a cute idea for a request so thank you for sending it! I hope you like it and sorry for the delay <3 enjoy it :,)

Synopsis: Y/N has started her new job as a nurse caregiver in a orphanage institute, wanting to look after kids who don’t have any family or parents and show them support and love. Levi, mistakes this as Y/N having kids and he is quite upset about it, defeated after he was getting to know her ever since he bumped into her in his tea shop which she usually goes to.

cute fluff, modern au, headcanons imagine ♡ —

Levi has been noticing his rather loyal customer recently in his teashop. She would come in usually all the time around the same time, and get the same tea that Levi would prepare minutes before she comes in.

He developed a small which later grew to a big crush on her and he decided to take his chance to get to know her and chat with her.

“Here, it’s on the house. Also, I didn’t get your name?” Levi said while handing her drink, and then started to clean the counter.

“That’s nice of you, thanks! And, its Y/N. I assume yours is Levi?” Her smile was beautiful to him, he loved how you always gave him that smile to him only after you both have gotten close and having small chats once a while.

He sometimes wished you stayed longer and would hope there won’t be any customers in the store whenever you came in, because of the short time you stayed there, he wanted to spend every minute of it!

“So, what do you do for a living? You seem to work.” He said while crossing his arms and taking a seat right next to you. Y/N could smell in his scent which was a scent of pure black tea which he just brew for you, the scent of fresh green leaves, floral and a nice fresh mint smell. “I am a nurse working in a institute.” You say with a smile and turned to glance at him, looking handsome than ever.

“Oh? I see, that’s interesting.” Levi said, he started to become more curious about you and he was dying to know more about you too. But he decided to take things slow and also because, he did feel kind of nervous when talking to you, especially if he starts to stutter or becomes lost of words every time he makes eye contact you, because to him, you looked pretty in his eyes and he admired your beauty and personality.

“By the way, I will be shutting my teashop for a couple of days so I was wondering. Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Of course, if that is a-alright with you.”

‘Shit, I fucking stuttered.’ He thought to himself and cursed in his mind when he realized that, and now you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. Y/N chuckled and then got up taking her purse and approaching the door to leave, “Sure, I would love that. I finish work early tomorrow, Soo maybe you could meet me there after I am done with work?”

Levi felt pleased and happy to hear how Y/N accepted his offer, now he can have a longer time to spend with his crush and he was happier than ever, getting a fuzzy feeling inside of him. Wishing tomorrow was here already. “That’s fine with me, I will pick you up then and I will find us a place to hang out.”

“Sounds like a plan! I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi.” You gave him a small wave and left his tea shop place. Oh how he adored you so much, and throughout the day he was thinking of what to wear and even where to take you, and how you would look so beautiful, also how lucky of him being able to even see you.

The next day approached, and Levi was exactly on time, and he was around the parking lot of the institute. “Hm, Reiss Royal institute? Why does that ring a bell.” He wondered but let the thought leave his mind once he started to think of you and how he was soon to see you.

“Hey Levi!” Levi looked up immediately from his phone and looked towards Y/N who was waving at him and walking towards him. He quickly put his phone away and he got off from his car as he was laying against it, and Levi was now fixing his posture, nervous a bit but stood still.

“Oi, Y/N How-” As Levi was about to ask how Y/N was doing, he was caught off guard as he saw a child running towards Y/N and she quickly grabbed her hand.

“Mama! Look I drew this for you!” The little girl said with a big happy smile and Y/N bent down and started to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Awh really? This looks amazing. I will make sure to keep this.”

After hearing that, the little girl got so happy and quickly went and hugged Y/N around her neck, while chuckling. “Thanks Mama! I will draw more for you!”

Levi, now stood there still, all speechless and his eyes widen. ‘Wait it can’t be....Is that her kid?’ He thought and suddenly went sad, feeling quite upset how Y/N might have already been in a relationship and was just thinking of Levi as a friend this whole time.

‘I..I lost my chance with her. She clearly is not single.’ As soon Levi thought that to himself, his trace of thoughts was cut off as Y/N waved her hand towards his face. “Hey, I’m talking to you! What’s wrong? You suddenly went quiet?” Y/N said in a concerned tone, not sure what made him change so quickly.

“Sorry. It’s just, your kid surprised me that’s all.” He uttered and looked away from you, feeling quite let down and how he finally lost his chance with someone he finally had feeling for and actually loved for the first time.

But, Y/N quickly held on his hand to get his attention and he turned around, looking at her. “Wait.” She then furrowed her eyebrows and suddenly started to chuckle. “Haha! Levi, That is one of my students! You don’t actually think this was my child right?”

Now, Levi went red, feeling rather embarrassed how he mistook the little girl as her daughter. Y/N kept on giggling and Levi would beg her to stop but, he felt relieved and smiled. He later then realized that, after getting to know her well that she worked actually in a orphanage institute academy and was a nurse there for the kids, and was loved by all the children that called her ‘Mama’ by how caring, affectionate and kind-hearted she was as she treated them and helped them and this made the kids thinking Y/N was their role model Mum!

Y/N would now then, tease Levi, knowing pretty well how seeing him really surprised by what happened and how he was wondering if it was actually her child or not was cute and funny to her. She then reassured him that she doesn’t have any kids and she was actually single. “O-Oh. I see...” Levi said sitting there with a slight blush, now feeling that his chance is back and he was now getting butterflies in his stomach. It was clear to Y/N that with his response that he was kind of happy to hear that instead, and it made her wonder if what she felt for Levi, was the same with him feeling towards Y/N.

In one of their hangouts, Levi finally takes his chance now, before he loses it and regrets it. He took his shot and finally asked you out as his girl. “Y/N, I want to get to know you better..” He said nervously and he went and grabbed your hand, which he caressed lovingly. Y/N went red and her eyes would widen and Levi looked at it, admiring how beautiful they were as the stars in the evening sky was reflecting it. “I want you in my life, so will you...be my girl? Is that alright.”

Y/N smiled at him, happy how Levi finally took the step and Y/N reassured Levi that they would be having such a loving and happy relationship and that made his world hearing that, especially from you. Just though your words, made his life better and he knew from then on, he would now be happy with you and he couldn’t be asking for more than that as long as you were by his side.

Now, ever since you both started to date and go out together. Levi would always pick you up from work after you were done. Never missing a day, after all you were his priority. With this, the kids would notice Levi and see him now and then whenever they follow Y/N to the parking lot. And the kids were curious who he was and they would be behind Y/N and looking at him, a bit scared. They then liked him as Y/N explained to them that he was not scary at all and he was actually really kind and sweet. This made the kids call him Dada and some calling him Dad too!

“Wait, I’m not your- Tch, Whatever Brats.” Levi said and ruffled the kids head as he bent down, greeting them with a small hand shake, they all quickly liked him. He lowkey liked that though, at how they referred to him as Dada and Dad but he won’t admit that! “Hey Levi! Don’t call the kids that!”

The kids actually love and ship you both, they always tell Y/N when coming by to her nurse office if she is seeing Levi after school and they would ask to tag along to see him. Giving him some craft arts they made and giving it to him as a gift for always coming by to see Y/N. And, ironically Levi on that same day bought many gifts for the kids such as sweets, their favorite chocolates (since he asked the little girl what kind of chocolate the students liked) and some toys.

You then noticed Levi smiles a lot when the kids come to him and you started to find that cute and when you mention that on your way back, he denies that and goes “No, they are annoying brats anyways.”

Okay this was really cute and sweet to write so thank you for the request anon :,)! And if anyone out there enjoyed this then please leave a like, a message or a reblog! Thanks and I hope you all have a great day ahead ♡♡♡

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cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean��s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles. “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey @chaotic-nick @manjiroarchiviste

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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throughtheinterstices · 3 years

Text

a day well-spent

❝ bokuto makes you realize that working isn’t the only way to have a day well-spent. ❞

pairing. bokuto x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight comedy word count. 2.1k words a/n. reblogs are appreciated. i’d be happy to hear your thoughts too!

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

A day well-spent.

You snort at the caption of your classmate’s Instagram story. The picture shows her desk with piles of notes and her book with lots of highlights.

You close the Instagram tab on your laptop.

In the first place, you aren’t even supposed to be on Instagram. You deleted all your social media applications so you could avoid stress, but you open them on your laptop.

Way to go.

You breathe out a sigh.

Move on, move on. Let’s just prepare for our video call with our best friend.

You look at the time. Nine o’clock in the evening. He’s probably in his apartment by now.

A notification pops up on your laptop. Bokuto Koutaro calling…

The edge of your lips quirks up.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” your best friend greets you. He has his arms up in the air and he is wearing his biggest grin.

A wide smile immediately forms on your face.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” you mimic. “How was your day?”

Even from a video call, you could see the twinkle in his eyes. As always, he is energetic, excited to give you an extensive recollection of his endeavors. From the floor of your bedroom in Tokyo, you watch the silver-haired boy cities away tell you about how practice was fun as always, how he was able to make the best line shots and even better cross shots, how they were probably going to have new teammates soon (“you know Tsum-Tsum and Omi-Omi right?”). He even gives you a solid picture of everything he ate that day—from breakfast to dinner.

“How about you? How did your day go?” Bokuto asks, playing around with his office chair (which you told him isn’t a go-cart).

“Nothing much… Just napped the whole morning, ate at the new ramen place, walked around the neighborhood and looked at the flowers,” you recalled your uneventful day. “Oh! And I played with my puppy too!”

“Waaahh! That seems so fun! What a great day!” your best friend exclaims.

You let out a chuckle. Somehow, Bokuto can make even the simplest things seem grand. And somehow, he can also notice the subtle things about you.

Bokuto pulls his chair closer to his desk. “But why do you seem down?”

Your head jerks upward slightly. “Hmm?”

Bokuto rests his cheek on one palm. He sobers a bit and asks, “You did a lot of things today but you don’t seem happy.”

“Do I seem that way?” you ask, grabbing the pillow nearest to you.

Bokuto nods quickly, wearing a small pout. He looks cute when he’s worried.

“It’s nothing, really,” you say, hugging the pillow tightly.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Bokuto presses.

“Look, I just…” You take a swift glance at your unopened books. “I didn’t study today. At all.”

Bokuto’s brows scrunch together. “It’s your break, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” you mumble.

“How long is it?” Bokuto asks.

You lift two fingers up.

Your best friend—dramatic as always—places his hands on his head. “Two weeks? Then why would you be studying?”

“My other classmates are!” you raise your voice in frustration.

“But you already got in that fast-track program, right? Don’t they just make you study all the time?” he asks.

You remember all the all-nighters, the early mornings, the weekends that didn’t seem like weekends, and all the engagements you brushed off. “Yeah…”

“Then why would they still study during the break?”

“I don’t know! They’re just great like that!” You bury your head on your pillow.

Bokuto says nothing for a while.

“You’re great too, you know,” you hear him say softly.

You scoff. You genuinely appreciate his consolation, but you know the difference between you and your monster classmates.

“You are!” Bokuto insists, his face inching the camera closer.

You peek at him through your pillow. Your eyes water a bit but you are careful in revealing them to your best friend.

“And you have to recharge!” Bokuto bellows, forming two fists. “Coach Yamiji always used to say that rest is as important as practicing! So rest as much as you can! How will you be able to become an awesome doctor and fix the wounds of our children from volleyball if you’re going to end up like your zombie classmates?”

You freeze at his words.

Our children?

This was… new.

You and Bokuto have always been certain of your dreams. You always knew you wanted to be a doctor. Bokuto always knew that he wanted to be a volleyball player.

As the years went by, somehow, your dreams became intertwined. You imagined yourself building a clinic near a park. Bokuto, on the other hand, imagined himself setting up volleyball clinics to teach children how to play his favorite sport. After years of tending to his wounds, the two of you decided that when his kids were injured, he’d run them up to your clinic for some patching up.

It always used to be his kids. His children.

But now, it is our children.

The butterflies start fluttering in your stomach. It always does when Bokuto hugs you a little tigher, smiles at you a little longer, and treats you a little sweeter than usual. You try to suppress it, but as always, you can’t help but yearn for something more.

“Hello?” Bokuto’s words break you out of your reverie. “Are you still there? Did I lag or did you lag or something?”

“Our children?” are your first words for the man in front you.

“Wha—?” Bokuto’s perplexion is evident.

You get the pillow out of your way and sit up straight. “You said, our children.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen. “I did?”

“You did!” you confirm.

“Really?”

“Yes!” you cry. You lean closer to the screen. You heart is beating faster and faster and you are growing restless. “What do you mean, our children?”

“Why? Do you not want to?” Bokuto points an accusing finger (a shaking one at that).

“Do I not want to what?”

“Have children!”

“Of course I do!”

Bokuto gasps. “Wait! Do you not want to have children with me?”

Startled, you mirror his words. “Wait! You want to have children with me?”

“Of course, I do!”

Dear god, help me.

You become speechless. You slump back on the mattress behind you. And as much as you try to help it, you can’t—you laugh.

Offended, Bokuto spars. “Hey! Why are you—”

“I love you, Koutaro.”

Just like that, your boisterous best friend who always had something to say was out of words.

Just like that, you finally—finally confess the words and the feelings you’ve been burying for such a long time.

You think he’s going to say it back. After the banter you just had, after the way he’s been treating you lately, you think he will.

But he doesn’t.

You stare at the screen that shows your best friend who you have never seen so frozen.

“Kou—”

Bokuto blinks rapidly. “Wait, wait. Give me a minute—”

You hear the clicks of his mouse and his screen turns black. The call is still on, but he has turned off his camera.

Oh no. Were you too impulsive? Is he appalled by what you said? Does he not feel the same way? But he did say that we wanted to have children with you, right? Was that just a mistake?

The ring of a phone diverts your attention from your train of thought. At first, you think it is yours. When the person from the other line picks up, you realize that it is Bokuto’s. He was calling someone else.

“Akaashi! Akaashi! What do I do?” you hear Bokuto’s frantic voice. Akaashi?

“Bokuto-san?” you hear your kouhai’s confused voice.

Puzzled and curious, you listen in on their conversation.

“Akaashi! What do I do? I was supposed to say it first!”

“Bokuto-san, hold on. Relax.”

You hear Bokuto taking deep breaths.

“Okay, okay, I’m calm.”

“Okay, now, tell me what happened. I’m assuming this is about senpai?”

Senpai? Me?

“Yes! We were talking just a while ago and were arguing about something and then she told me she loved me! I was supposed to say it first! Akaashi, our plans—” Plans? He had plans? “—are ruined! I messed up!”

“Wait, so she told you she loved you?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And what did you say right after?”

“I-I told her to give me a minute?”

“A minute? For what?”

“To call you!”

Akaashi pauses, seeming to try to connect all the dots.

“So right after she tells you she loves you, you call me… Don’t you think you forgot to do something, Bokuto-san?”

“He’s right you know,” you cut in. You could not help it. Their conversation is making you more confused. And a bit annoyed.

The other line grows silent.

Akaashi speaks first. “Was that senpai?”

“Oh my god! I thought I pressed mute already!” Bokuto panics.

At this point, Akaashi seems the more frustrated than before. “Bokuto-san! You were still on the call?”

“Yes?” you hear the embarrassment in your best friend’s voice.

“With all due respect, please go figure this out with senpai first,” Akaashi says with his composed tone. “Senpai, I’m really sorry for this.”

Akaashi ends the call. A few seconds later, Bokuto’s camera opens again. The man behind it, however, is avoiding your gaze.

You decide to stay leaning your back on your bed and you cross your arms.

“He’s a smart kid,” you say.

No one speaks for a while. Bokuto shifts his eyes everywhere except the camera. You continue looking at him with stern eyes.

He takes a deep breath. “So…”

“So?” you copy.

He sneaks a glance at you. “You love me?”

You raise a brow at him.

He faces you completely. “What?”

You pretend to examine your nails. “I thought you ‘wanted to say it first.’”

“I-I-I did!” he stutters. Bokuto with his exaggerated gestures tries to explain. “I had it all planned out! We were supposed to meet at the end of summer and there were supposed to be flowers and—”

You are quick to cut him off. “You know what, Koutaro, spare me the details. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Bokuto straightens on the other side. “You go do whatever you planned. But this time, make it better, grander.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies automatically.

“That’s what you get for calling Akaashi right after I confess. Understood?”

“Crystal clear, ma’am.”

“Good.”

You soften after that, which makes him relax a little.

He lifts a finger to scratch his temple. “I’m sorry.”

You huff. What are you going to do with him?

From the other side, you see your best friend straighten up one last time. His eyes are full of conviction. He seems the most serious that you have seen him.

“I love you,” he says. Finally.

You have longed to hear those words from him for years. You have always held on to him. Yet, you have never let yourself give away too much because you were afraid that he might not feel the same way. But apparently, he does. And you will never ever let him go.

So even if he was a bit of an idiot, you utter the words that he was supposed to say first.

“I love you, Koutaro.”

The expression that blooms on his face is sight like no other.

So this is what it feels like to be loved back.

For a while, the two of you just stare at each other, smiling. Like two fools in love.

After a few minutes, your mind clears a smidge and you decide that having two fools in this relationship is a bit too much. You aren’t going to be one, at least not today.

You whip out your phone for a final jest.

“So, should I call Akaashi after you told me you love me too?”

The gravity of what Bokuto just did dawns on him. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

You smirk. “Never.”

The next few minutes are taken up by a lengthy phone call with your Fukurodani kouhai and your new boyfriend sulking in the background.

As you lie in bed that night, you can’t help the smile on your face.

You didn’t open any of your books at all today. You didn’t take a glimpse into your books. For certain, your classmates are chapters ahead of you already.

But how many of them were able to sleep to their heart’s content? How many of them were able to play with their cute puppy? How many of them were able to appreciate the flowers in the city?

How many of them have had their best friend tell them that they loved them today?

Maybe they had a productive day.

But hey, you had a day well-spent too.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3 LINK

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fics #haikyuu best friends to lovers #haikyuu bestfriends to lovers #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #bokuto fluff #haikyuu fluff #a day well-spent #through the sunlight

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smolgloves · 3 years

Note

13! "what if i didn't catch you?!" (if you're still taking prompts ofc!!)

So this turned out longer than I thought lol. Also I wanna give a shout out to @obwjam because I wrote this based on a prompt she did for a star wars au she did awhile back. I have it reblogged below.

FORCE WIELDER

Many borrowers think living in the jedi temple is reckless and dangerous. They say the jedi can sense a borrower deep within the walls, plus, most jedi keep their living quarters in pristine condition, but after living within the walls for months, Ahsoka figured those stories were just a myth. The jedi are hardly in their rooms, making it easy to just grab stuff when needed. And while a lot of the jedi were neat freaks, there was one jedi who usually had a messy room…

Ahsoka could never remember his name but it was something along the name of Sky guy. He was a human that loved to tinker on gadgets in his spare time. There were all sorts of screws and scrap metal lying around, also out of all the Jedi, Sky guy was the one who was least likely to ever be in his quarters.

Sky guy wasn't scheduled to be back for another few days, so Ahsoka knew she had plenty of time to borrow some stuff she needed for a new ascension cable she was working on.

So she made her way through the air vents until she reached Sky guy's room. She had the vantage point to see the entire room. On the nightstand by his bed, Ahsoka could see some scrap metal lying around. Perfect for what she needed! So the tiny Togruta used her primitive grappling hook to make her way down to the floor. After unhooking it, she made a dash to the nightstand and climbed her way up it.

~~~

Ahsoka spent hours working on that ascension cable, trying to get it to work. But for some reason, it didn't want to shoot out! Ahsoka was so preoccupied that she almost didn't hear the door open. Immediately, Ahsoka dropped her stuff and jumped off the nightstand. She tucked and rolled once she hit the ground and dashed under the bed.

Black boots lazily entered the room and began walking over to the desk, but Sky guy only took about three steps before he stopped.

A feeling of dread washed over Ahsoka, telling her that Sky guy knew she was here. He turned over and headed over to the nightstand, Ahsoka backed further into the shadows. She knew she had to get out of this room.

"What's this?" Sky guy muttered.

Drat! How could she have been so stupid and leave the grappling hook on the nightstand?! Ahsoka had to weigh her options, could she slip by undetected to the door? No, he was already too close, even if she was as stealthy as she prided herself to be, he had the high ground and would spot her a mile away. The only other option would be to get to the air vent. But it was so high up, even if Ahsoka jumped from the desk there still wasn't a confirmed chance she'd make it to the vent even if she jumped!

But it was her only option as Sky guy was already kneeling down to look under the bed. Ahsoka slipped out from the bed and made a dash to the desk. Fortunately, Sky was still examining her previous hiding spot but it wouldn't be long before he would wander over to the desk. She channeled all the energy she could to jump up to the top of the desk, then made a break for it.

"Huh?" Sky guy had finally stood up and turned towards the desk. He knew of the little borrower now. But Ahsoka had already leapt up in the air by the time he saw. She was practically flying to the vent at this point, just a little further and she would be home free!

But suddenly, she stopped. A feeling of weightlessness flowed through her body, Ahsoka was floating in midair! She glanced over at Sky guy who had his hand stretched out towards her, his blue eyes staring right at her. Then a force seemed to push her towards him, a sense of dread formed in Ahsoka as his fingers curled around her once she got near. Once his fist closed around her, she knew she was as good as dead.

Sky guy stared down at Ahsoka, his brown brows furrowed as if he was trying to examine her. "You're just a kid."

"And what about it?!" Ahsoka snapped. Fear was fading and being replaced with anger. She began throwing punches at his fingers, hoping by some miracle he would drop her.

But Sky guy just sighed and walked over to the desk and sat down. He immediately deposited the little borrower in front of him. "Now don't mo-!"

But Ahsoka already made a break for the edge of the desk again, this time she would make it to the vent above her! However, a gloved hand slammed down in front of her and she crashed into the palm. Surprisingly, he didn't try to grab her again, instead he let her skitter back away from hand. Ahsoka looked up at him, who had an annoyed look on his face.

"Nice try, but You're not going anywhere, I have a lot of questions."

Ahsoka crossed her arms. "And who says I got answers?"

"You know, you're pretty snippy for someone who's not even five inches tall." He chuckled. "Which I gotta say, I didn't know Togrutas could be borrowers."

"You… know about our kind?"

"Well not much... the jedi temple doesn't have a lot of information about your species." Sky guy explained. "But I'm pretty sure you're the first borrower that was reckless enough to live in the temple."

"It's not like it was hard!" Ahsoka spat out. "I've been taking things from your room for months and you just noticed!"

"Because you got reckless." Sky guy held his hand above her to show the faulty ascension cable.

"That's mine, give it back!" She demanded.

"Gotta say, you made quite a good replica of the Clone troopers' ascension cables, but I'm sure you needed it for that jump you tried to do."

"It wasn't working." Ahsoka gritted her teeth. "It's not like I needed it, anyways."

"Didn't need it?!" Exclaimed the Jedi. "Do you even realize how far that fall is for your size! What if I didn't catch you?!"

"I would have made it!" She snapped.

Sky guy responded with a scoff. He was doubting her abilities and that only made Ahsoka's blood boil more!

"You think I haven't fallen from heights greater than that?! But I've always managed to land on my feet somehow!"

Sky guy raised a brow. "What do you mean by somehow?"

The borrower shrugged. "I'm not sure how to explain it, anytime I've fallen, I just have a feeling that tells me the best step to surviving the fall."

Sky guy pondered on her words before his eyes slowly widened. "You're force sensitive!"

"What does that even mean?"

"Listen, as soon as I walked in my room I felt a presence. It was like a little voice telling me you were in here, and I bet you did too!"

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Oh, yes it does! You're strong with the force!"

"I think you need to update your borrower history, Sky guy! What you think is 'the force' is actually just borrowers learning how to maneuver."

"Alright Snips, maybe you're right. Borrowers are just durable creatures, but you know what isn't durable?" Sky guy smirked as he dangled the ascension cable over the edge.

"Dont!"

He released his fingers and the contraption descended to the ground, Ahsoka shouted and reached her hand out, she felt something powerful flow through her as if she was connecting her reach towards her cable. Instead of it hitting the ground and breaking, it floated in midair, and then slowly made its way to her feet. The energy drained from her and Ahsoka fell to her knees. "That was exhausting!"

"You need training, little one." He said. "I should report this to the council."

"No!" Ahsoka gasped. "I refuse to be known by anyone else!"

"But you can't just run around without control over your powers." Sky guy explained. "If the wrong people got a hold of you, it could be very bad."

"Please, don't tell anyone about me!" Desperation was in her voice.

Sky guy pondered on her words for a moment, then a sigh escaped his lips. "Alright, I won't tell anyone… but only if you let me train you."

"Are you serious?"

"You don't want to be known, and you'll be taught by the best Jedi Knight in the galaxy." He flashed her a smile.

"I don't know…"

"How about I help you fix your ascension cable too, and give you anything you need to make other gadgets."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Part of Ahsoka told her to run and not trust him. But she was immensely curious about her newfound powers. "I suppose a lesson or two wouldn't hurt."

"Great!" Sky guy exclaimed. "We'll get started tomorrow, but can I ask for your name… unless you don't mind being called Snips?"

"It's Ahsoka!" She scoffed.

"Well I'm Anakin Skywalker, but typically a Padawan addresses a teacher as master."

"Don't push it."

Anakin chuckled. "You should rest now, regain your strength for tomorrow. I can place you on the bed if you'd like."

Ahsoka shook her head. "I don't feel comfortable being grabbed."

Anakin nodded. "Then hold on, and I'll find something to sleep on."

He left the desk but Ahsoka had already laid her head down. Fatigue had taken over her body. Who knew that the force would be so psychically and mentally draining, but maybe with some training, Ahsoka could be as powerful as Anakin Skywalker.

#writing #mine #giant male #tiny female #ask #borrowers #star wars #star wars the clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #gt #giant tiny #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #g/t writing #g/t #gt talks

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knuffled · 3 years

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 16

it’s here! i know i said this last chapter, but this is the most important one in the fic so far now. hope you enjoy it! if you could leave a comment and reblog, it would mean the world to me! thank you!

ao3 link here

The state cross country meet was held on a cold, gray April morning. Rainfall from the night before had left the ground muddy and slick, and clouds still lingered in the sky, obscuring the sun. Mist seeped out of the woods and crept across the ground, coating each blade of grass with dew. Annabeth toyed with her jacket’s zipper and watched her teammates file off the school bus. Coach had left her in charge of finding a spot for the team to warm up before the race, which meant a lot of standing around in the cold.

Annabeth chaperoned her team in search of an unoccupied spot, but it looked like they were late to arrive. Much of the grounds had already been camped by other schools. As they passed, Annabeth made mental note of the competition that had gathered. She recognized two girls from Northbrook who had placed higher than her at state the year before. There was the girl from Creston that beaten her to second place at the invitational. A few runners from Seneca Falls passed by from time to time, but Reyna herself was not among them.

Once they were settled, Annabeth led the group stretches in Coach Davis’s stead. The chill quickly sank into her bones and the wet grass drenched her yoga pants, only adding insult to injury. Annabeth could hear her teammates’s teeth chattering when the cold wind blew past. They were uncharacteristically solemn, even the younger ones. State tended to have that effect. The effort to stay focused was evident by the grimaces on their faces, but more than that a cloud of anxiety hung over them. Annabeth had hoped Coach Davis would have some words of encouragement for them but she was nowhere to be seen.

Strangely, this was perhaps the one meet that Annabeth did not share in their nervousness. She was so accustomed to being a bundle of nerves during meets that it seemed completely bizarre to feel otherwise. Today, however, it was like Annabeth was so focused she didn’t feel anything at all, but it wasn’t a strained focus. Instead, it was somehow relaxed and effortless. Percy had described the sensation to her before when she had asked him how he managed to stay so calm before swim meets, but she had never understood his explanations. Now, experiencing it firsthand, she couldn’t help thinking it was a good omen.

Coach Davis returned just as one of the meet officials announced the women’s five kilometer would begin shortly, and Annabeth approached her once she was done with her stretches.

“I think you should say something to them,” Annabeth muttered. “They look like they’re going to puke.”

Coach raised an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the captain. Rallying the troops is your job.”

Before Annabeth could protest, Coach stood in front of the team and cleared her throat. “Alright, listen up everyone! Your captain has a few words for you all before the race.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and balled her hands at her sides. She wasn’t one for speeches. Still, the tentative, expectant look on the faces of her teammates compelled her to say something.

“Um, congratulations to everyone that made it here,” Annabeth started. “For some of you, this is your first time competing at state. It’s normal to be nervous. I know I certainly was my first time here. But, I want you to know you’re here for a reason. Trust in all the hard work and dedication that brought you here, and make sure when you leave here today, you do so with no regrets!”

Looking at her teammates now, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling a lump form in her throat. “I, um, also just wanted to say that it has been an honor and a privilege to be your captain this year. I know I haven’t been that great at it, but I couldn’t be more proud of you all. Now, this is the last race of the season, so let’s go out there and make it count!”

The cheers of her teammates took Annabeth by surprise and embarrassed her. She shifted on her heels and felt her face heat up. Even she herself was taken aback by how well she had spoken. A few of her teammates thanked her or clapped her on the back when they passed by. Even Clarisse gave her a begrudging nod of respect before jostled past her on her way to the starting line. Annabeth hid a smile and shook her head before she turned back to Coach Davis.

Coach gave her a thumbs up and said, “I didn’t know you had it in you, kid. That was a killer speech.”

Annabeth breathed an incredulous laugh. “Don’t expect me to do it again. That was one hundred percent luck.”

Coach shrugged and said, “Who knows? Maybe today’s your lucky day.”

“I sure hope so.”

Coach Davis threw an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder. “I know so. Next time I see you, you’re gonna be holding a first place ribbon in your hand. You’re gonna kill it today, Chase.”

Annabeth ducked her chin to hide a smile. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll do my best.”

Coach gave her a final clap on the back and whispered, “Go get ‘em, kid.”

Annabeth nodded and jogged over to the starting line. Since she was late to arrive, Annabeth didn’t even bother jostling for a place closer to the head of the pack. It was nothing she couldn’t make up within the first few minutes of the race anyways.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her body felt lighter than normal. Her mind was clear. Around her, tension droned in the air like a buzzing bee, but she felt removed from it all. She couldn’t bring herself to feel nervous, even as the official raised his gun and squeezed the trigger.

This was it, Annabeth mused. Her last high school race.

And then, the gunshot shattered the silence and Annabeth took off into the misty woods.

The ground was so soft and slippery that it was difficult to maintain proper footing and weave between all the other runners during the initial scramble to find a place. It didn’t take long for mud to cake her shoes and shins, much to her chagrin. But, after a few minutes, Annabeth found herself a spot towards the head of the pack.

The pace Annabeth held for the first half of the race was faster than the one she had adopted at the invitational, and as such it wasn’t long before she pulled into tenth. Since the new year, she had focused almost exclusively on her stamina, training to her limits. One Reyna’s greatest strengths was that she could sustain a brutal pace for the majority of a race. That alone gave her enough of a cushion to make it practically impossible to make up the distance by the end of the race. Annabeth realized that it was essential to keep up with Reyna until that point if she wanted to stand any chance of beating her.

All of that effort finally showed results when Annabeth managed to push into third place twelve minutes into the race. The girl from Creston was ahead of her, but Annabeth could tell that she was faltering. Her pace hadn’t improved since the invitational but Annabeth’s had. Annabeth’s suspicions proved correct when she managed to pass her only a minute later and pull ahead into second place.

Now, there was only one last obstacle. Reyna was ahead of her, but her lead wasn’t so large that Annabeth wouldn’t be able to make up the distance. If she had to estimate, there were perhaps a hundred meters between them, and she had the better part of three minutes to close it.

Annabeth set her jaw in grim determination and picked up her pace. Deviating so early from her race pace was risky, but she couldn’t afford to play it safe if she wanted to beat Reyna. She was doing fine in terms of stamina, and there was enough adrenaline coursing through her to give her confidence that she wouldn’t burn out.

Over the next two minutes, Annabeth managed to shrink the distance from a hundred meters to twenty. Reyna even heard her coming and fixed her a steely look over her shoulder before facing forward again. Even in the heat of competition, Annabeth couldn’t help taking a moment to admire Reyna. Her form was still immaculate this late into the race. There was something beautiful about the sheer efficiency of it. The only sign she was even working hard was the sweat on her brow.

But with six hundred meters left to go, Annabeth was still unable to bridge the distance between them. The remaining distance made things tricky. It was too much for her to abandon her pace and launch into a sprint. Honestly, her legs were already having a difficult time maintaining her current punishing pace, but Annabeth couldn’t afford to go into the final two hundred meters of the race behind Reyna. With a headstart, Reyna would beat her ten out of ten times in a sprint.

So, Annabeth made a bold gamble and abandoned her pace early.

Sprinting for over a third of a mile was not possible. Annabeth knew that. At best, Annabeth guessed could manage a little under four hundred meters at close to a sprint. Ideally, she would pull far enough ahead during that time and Reyna would be unable to make up the distance during the final two hundred meters.

Annabeth dug deep into what little stamina she had left and pushed herself as hard as she could. She grit her teeth and ignored the way her lungs immediately burned in protest. Reyna gave her a look when Annabeth managed to pull alongside her, but then she subsequently increased her own pace.

Annabeth wanted to scream. Reyna had an even faster pace?

Before she could spiral into negativity, Annabeth forced herself to calm down and re-evaluate the situation. She had no way of knowing, but it was entirely possible that she was throwing Reyna off her pace. If Reyna hadn’t planned for that, it could deplete her stamina much faster than she would have anticipated. Which meant that it wasn’t impossible for Annabeth to win.

Of course, it was all complete conjecture. Maybe Reyna had practiced for this very situation, and Annabeth was doomed. But if there was even a remote possibility that Annabeth was throwing her off her game plan, she would take it. If she could force a war of attrition, Annabeth could actually see a world where she could win.

Don’t slow down. Just keep running.

The following two minutes were perhaps the most brutal in Annabeth’s entire running career. It felt like her lungs were tearing themselves in two, and her calves burned like they had been coated in acid. The simple act of breathing was painful. At some point, her mind blanked out, and she slipped into a kind of trance. Thinking was no longer a necessary function. All that mattered was putting one foot in front of the next. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

But then, for the first time in the race, Reyna began to falter. Her shoulders were hunched and her stride grew inconsistent. It was subtle but cracks were beginning to appear.

A rush of excitement swept through Annabeth.

She could win this. All she had to do was deliver the finishing blow.

Just one final push, and state was hers.

Annabeth reached into the last vestiges of her stamina and pushed forward, desperate to pass Reyna for the first time.

But then, she hit a patch of mud and slipped, hyper-extending her leg.

Her left knee made a popping sound.

A bolt of pain unlike anything she had ever felt before shot up her leg.

Annabeth released a cry of pain and fell into the mud. Her mind was still blank, so it took her a moment to register what had happened. Once she came to, Annabeth desperately scrambled to her feet, but her left leg gave out on her the moment she put any weight on it.

She tried again only to fall face first into the mud. Annabeth blinked in disbelief and looked up. Reyna was getting further away. This couldn’t be happening. She was going to lose.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Annabeth pounded the ground with her fist, hard enough to bruise her knuckles. She laid there in the mud, lacking the energy and the will to sit up. Anger wracked through her like venom.

She had finally been about to beat Reyna. Just a little more, and she would have done it.

But now, she had no shot.

It was all over for her.

At this point, she wouldn’t even finish the race.

Mud crept into her mouth, forcing her to finally sit up. Annabeth spit it out, but the taste of defeat lingered on her tongue. She brushed away the tears pricking her eyes and blearily took in her surroundings.

It was so quiet. Her knee throbbed in agony. Reyna had stopped. Mist curled around Annabeth’s waist. The ground trembled ever so slightly, heralding the onrush of runners.

Wait, Reyna had stopped?

What was she doing? Why was she just standing there? The other runners were going to catch up to her.

She watched in disbelief as Reyna walked over to her and dropped to a crouch, a strained look in her eyes. “Can you stand?”

Annabeth blinked blearily. “What?”

“Can you stand on your own?” Reyna repeated. “Or do you need help?”

Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I- I don’t understand-”

Before she could react, Reyna tugged her onto her feet and threw Annabeth’s arm over her own shoulder. Reyna held her hip and pulled her into her side to support Annabeth’s weight before her knees buckled from under her.

The girl in third place sped past them without so much as a look.

Annabeth stared at Reyna with wide eyes and hoarsely asked, “W-What are you doing?”

When Reyna didn’t answer, Annabeth squirmed in her grasp. “Let me go.”

“Shut up.”

Three more girls passed them in rapid succession.

“Let me go,” Annabeth pleaded, her voice cracking. “You’re throwing the fucking race! Let me go!”

Reyna refused to look at her. “I said shut up.”

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat, and she found herself fighting back tears. She didn’t think it was possible, but this was somehow worse than injuring her knee.

“Wha- Why?” Annabeth stammered. “Why are you going so far for me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Reyna said simply. “Now, let’s get going. We’ve got a race to finish.”

Annabeth barely registered the journey to the finish line. Her knee throbbed in pain the entire time, and her heart felt like it was tearing itself in two. It was already bad enough that she had completely fucked up the race, but the fact that she had stolen Reyna’s victory too was more than she could bear. At the rate she was going, Reyna would have broken the state record and placed nationally if it hadn’t been for her. Annabeth could already tell that she would never forgive herself for this.

The next thing she knew, they had stopped. Annabeth blinked and looked around, trying to figure out where she was, only to find herself standing right in front of Percy and the rest of her friends. Her throat seized up, and her heart squeezed in her chest.

The look on his face made her want to die.

Reyna helped Annabeth into Percy’s arms, a wordless understanding passing between them. He immediately supported her against his chest, and Annabeth melted into him. Usually, his scent was enough to calm her down, but not today. Today, it just made her sad. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her lip quivering.

“P-Percy,” Annabeth whispered, voice cracking.

He held her tightly against him and ran his hands down her back. It was hard to say why, but that gesture was what broke the levy and allowed her to finally cry. Annabeth sobbed in his arms and held onto him like a lifeline.

“Get her to a hospital,” Reyna muttered.

Annabeth could hear Percy speak through his chest. “What happened?”

“She fell. Badly,” Reyna said tersely. “I did my best to get her here, but she’s yours now, alright? Take care of her for me.”

Percy’s grip on her tightened. “I will. I promise.”

There was a pause before Reyna nodded and turned to leave. But before she could get too far away, Percy called out to her.

“Reyna?”

She looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Reyna paused for a moment and nodded one last time. And then she was gone.

:::

The sky had begun to darken before the hospital staff allowed Percy and her friends in to see her. She had spent nearly two and a half hours in triage with the doctor and nurses. They asked her a lot of questions and ran some preliminary tests on her, mainly to measure her mobility, before they decided she would need to stay overnight. They didn’t know what the issue was for certain until they ran some imaging tests, but their tentative diagnosis only affirmed Annabeth’s worst fears.

After that, she was allowed to take a bath and changed into a hospital gown. Her knee was put in an elevated brace to keep her from putting any weight on it. The position was remarkably uncomfortable, but she had no other options than to bear it.

It was only after that that her friends were allowed inside to see her. They rushed inside and crowded around the bed, except for Percy who lingered by the doorframe. Annabeth fleetingly met his eyes and quickly looked away.

“Oh, Annabeth, we were so worried about you,” Rachel cried, taking her hand.

Frank nodded and quietly said, “They made us wait for so long that we thought something might have happened.”

Annabeth mustered a wan smile. “You mean apart from my knee getting completely fucked?”

Her friends looked at each other before Jason stepped forward and said, “We were afraid they had pulled you into surgery or something.”

“They still need to run a few tests before that,” Annabeth said.

“Do they know what’s wrong yet?” Piper asked, furrowing her brow.

Annabeth did her best to shrug. “They don’t have any leads just yet,” she lied.

There was an awkward silence before Hazel cleared her throat and said, “Well, let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”

“I think I’ll need a change of clothes and some toiletries probably,” Annabeth said.

Piper nodded to herself and made some notes on her phone. “Got it.”

“Anything else?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing for now,” Annabeth said, trying to smile. “Just some bed rest.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, nodding. “Let us know if that changes or if anything comes up.”

Annabeth nodded. “Sure, I will.”

They lingered for a short while longer before a nurse popped into the room to yell at them for having too many people in the room.

Jason sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I guess that’s our cue to leave. We’ll see you later, ABC. And remember: anything you need, we’re here for you.”

Annabeth nodded and waved feebly while they filed out of the room. Only Percy stayed behind, but she had suspected as much. She had been dreading talking to him most of all. When he got worried like this, he wouldn’t let her get away with weaseling her way out of talking.

Percy stood by the base of her bed and offered her a soft smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“I tried calling your dad, but he wouldn’t pick up,” Percy said. “Sorry.”

Annabeth nodded. “I figured as much.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess,” Annabeth said. “My knee sure hurts like a bitch though.”

“What happened?” Percy asked. “Reyna said you fell.”

“I mean, yeah, pretty much,” Annabeth said, sighing. “I was about to pass her, but then I slipped on some mud and hyper-extended my leg or something. Next thing I know, my knee is completely fucked and I can barely stand.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Annabeth said, trying for a shrug.

“How are you feeling?”

Annabeth looked at him. “You already asked me that.”

“You told me how your leg was doing, not how you were doing,” Percy said.

“Don’t have the decency to let me wallow in my own misery, huh?” Annabeth joked half-heartedly.

“Afraid not,” Percy said lightly.

Annabeth sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t really know, honestly. Hasn’t really sunk in yet. Just can’t help thinking the universe sure has a sick sense of comedic timing that’s all.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was so close, Percy, so fucking close,” Annabeth said. “Just a little more and I had Reyna beat. But, when the time came, I fucked up like I always do.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Percy said. “You were just insanely unlucky.”

“I know,” Annabeth said, smiling sardonically. “That’s what makes it so funny. I’ve spent the last six years of my life training my fucking ass off, and all it took was one moment to make it all completely meaningless. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious?”

Percy shifted uneasily and said, “Annabeth-”

“And you know the worst part is that I dragged Reyna into it too,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “She was going to win and place nationally, and I stole that from her.”

“She made that choice herself,” Percy said gently. “Besides, we don’t know if she would have won for sure.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth laughed humorlessly. “Well, here’s something I do know: it would have been better for everyone if she’d left me there in the mud.”

Percy inhaled sharply and said, “Oh, Annabeth. There’s absolutely no way that’s true. And all your hard work wasn’t for nothing either. You still have all of your college career ahead of you.”

Annabeth stared down at her lap, a lump forming in her throat. “But what if I didn’t?”

Percy furrowed his brow and said, “What do you mean?”

Annabeth wrung her wrists. “T-They’re saying that I probably tore my ACL.”

“But you said before-”

“I was lying,” Annabeth interrupted. “I just didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone.”

There was a slight pause before Percy held a hand to his forehead and muttered, “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.”

They both knew a torn ACL had spelled the end to many an athlete’s career. It wasn’t a death sentence, but there was a good chance Annabeth would never come back stronger than before her injury.

Percy’s hands tightened around her bedframe. “It’ll be alright. I’m sure that some surgery and rehab will do the trick.”

“Wish I shared in your optimism,” Annabeth said, half-smiling.

“Look, I know it seems hopeless right now, but you’ll make it out. You always do.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “And there’s also a good chance I’ll never be as fast again.”

“Well, I believe in you,” Percy said. “I know how strong you are.”

Annabeth offered him a weak smile. “But what if I don’t believe in me?”

“Then I’ll do enough for the both of us and make up for it,” Percy said gently.

His words should have made her feel better, but instead they lit a spark of anger in her. “Just because you believe in something, doesn’t make it true, Percy.”

Percy must have sensed the shift in her mood and carefully said, “I’m aware of that.”

“No, you clearly aren’t,” Annabeth snorted. “This isn’t something you can just self-help, positive thinking bullshit your way out of.”

“I never said it was,” Percy said quietly.

“But it’s what you meant,” Annabeth insisted.

Percy pursed his lips and looked at her. “What would be more helpful for me to say instead?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you can start by acknowledging what’s really going on,” Annabeth said caustically.

“And what’s that?”

Annabeth sat up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “How about you admit I might never be able to run competitively again? Or how about admitting I’m responsible for sabotaging Reyna’s victory at state? Admit that my best isn’t good enough, that it’ll never be good enough.”

“And that will help you feel better?” Percy asked slowly.

“Compared to the garbage you were saying before? Yeah, it would.”

Hurt flickered in Percy’s eyes before he took a deep breath and shook his head. “I’m not going to say that.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?” Annabeth demanded.

“It’ll only make you feel worse,” Percy said quietly.

Annabeth ground her teeth and glared at him. “You know, I really hate when you do that.”

Percy furrowed his brow. “What?”

“When you pretend to know how I think or feel,” Annabeth fumed. “Or when you act like you know what’s good for me. It’s so fucking arrogant.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come across-”

“Then stop fucking pretending this isn’t real!” Annabeth snapped. “Do you really not understand how completely fucked I am right now?”

“Annabeth, I get how you feel. Trust me, I do,” Percy said. “But with the right treatment-”

“Percy, I could lose my scholarship over this,” Annabeth interrupted, fighting back tears. “I-I can’t afford to go to Berkeley without one, and I sure as hell can’t ask my fucking parents for money. They couldn’t even be bothered to see me here!”

He paused and processed the information quietly for a few moments before he said, “If we find a good surgeon and a physical therapist, they’ll figure out a way to cure you.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Annabeth asked desperately. “What if I never fully recover?”

Percy walked around the side of her bed and took her hand. “Then we’ll figure that out together too.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Annabeth laughed bitterly. “This isn’t your fucking problem. You still have your scholarship. Even if you didn’t, your mom would help pay your tuition. You still have people who give a shit about you. I don’t have anyone like that.”

There was a hint of tragic desperation in Percy’s voice when he said, “But you have me.”

Annabeth looked up at him with a strained smile. “Do I? Do I really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Percy asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You have been hiding things from me,” Annabeth said quietly. “You’ve been hiding things from me, who knows for how long.”

“Annabeth, what are you talking-”

“Kara Mayfield,” Annabeth said tiredly.

Percy stiffened like he had been slapped across the face, and that was the final nail in the coffin.

“Where you ever going to tell me about her, about what happened to you two?” Annabeth asked softly.

When Percy was silent, Annabeth breathed an incredulous laugh and shook her head. “So never then, apparently.”

“I never meant to hide anything from you,” Percy said. “It’s just-”

“I don’t want your excuses, Percy,” Annabeth said. “Either you don’t trust me enough, or you think I’m too fragile to handle it, like I’m some kindergartner that needs protecting because I don’t know what’s good for me.”

“I’ve always only ever had complete trust in you, Annabeth,” Percy said tersely.

“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it,” Annabeth fumed. “I have never kept anything from you. I’ve always told you absolutely everything about myself. I guess it just hurts because I assumed that you did the same.”

Annabeth paused and stared down at her lap, digging her fingernails into her palms. “Honestly, it’s fine if there are things you can’t tell me. Like, it hurts but I can live with it. But then what was the point of the fucking ocean of subtext that you’ve been forcing me to swim through since the start of the school year? I just don’t understand why the fuck you’ve been leading me by the nose on this wild goose chase if you’re so unwilling to open up to me. At least have the decency to make up your fucking mind.”

When Percy still continued to remain silent, Annabeth just felt suddenly exhausted, like all the events of the day had caught up with her all at once.

“I’m just so tired of this, Percy,” she muttered. “I’m tired of having to lie awake at night trying to analyze why you said this or did that. I’m just so fucking tired of it, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“You don’t think I would’ve said something if I could have?” Percy said tightly. “You think that I’ve liked keeping things from you? It kills me-”

“Then just tell me then!” Annabeth said. “This is your chance: right here! Just fucking say what’s on your mind for once.”

“I can’t!” Percy said, voice cracking. “I- I just can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Percy was silent for a moment before he whispered, “I don’t know.”

Annabeth bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “You’re breaking my fucking heart, Percy Jackson. I really hope you know that.”

Percy took a step closer to her, looking shattered, but Annabeth pointedly looked away at the opposite wall and cleared her throat.

“If you don’t have anything to say, I think you should just leave.”

A suffocating silence draped over them like a blanket, so palpable that Annabeth could almost feel the weight of it smothering them both. She held her breath, hoping against hope, that Percy would finally come out with everything he was holding back, but he didn’t say anything.

She didn’t know how long he simply stood there before he opened the door to her hospital room. He paused between the doorframe for a few moments, and her heart jack-hammered inside her chest.

This was it, Annabeth realized. This was finally how he left her.

Before he could close the door behind him, Annabeth frantically turned to him and yelled, “I’m in love with you!”

Percy froze and looked at her with a searching gaze. Blood pounded in Annabeth’s ears. Maybe now he wouldn’t leave. Anything to make him stay.

It felt like an eternity before Percy withered in front of her. His smile was achingly kind and familiar, but Annabeth was too struck by the hurt in his eyes. She had never seen him in so much pain before. Was that all her doing?

“It’s alright, Annabeth,” Percy smiled. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

His words hit her like a sledgehammer to the face. The door closed and shut behind him before she could react, and then she was alone.

And then she was alone.

#percabeth angst #percabeth #percabeth fake dating au #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #just practice #knuffled fic

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Text

I started typing this in the tags of this post, and it got too long, and then I was going to just reblog the post with this as an addition but that got too long too, and I've been meaning to make a post addressing free will vs. predestination since the premiere anyway, so - here we go. Spoilers, obviously.

Cut for length and spoilers. Please blacklist #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, and #loki spoilers.

This is kinda rough and I'm not sure it actually makes any sense but I'm posting it anyway.

I realize that the post is a joke, obviously (and it is hilarious) but I started thinking about the implications and couldn't stop because it's honestly a goldmine of existential reflection and an inevitable crisis or three.

Let's look at a scenario.

Say you're late to work for reasons totally beyond your control: your neighbor stopped you to ask a question on your way out the door; you swung through the drive-thru for a quick coffee but the person in front of you is ordering a full continental breakfast ffs (this happened to me this morning); there was an explosion and then the Winter Soldier randomly dropped from the sky and landed on the hood of your car. Whatever. Shit happens.

So you're late, but on this particular day, your lateness somehow has consequences that lead to and create a nexus event and the next thing you know, you're being arrested, tried, convicted of time crimes and ultimately (a version of you is) erased from existence.

And this is if it's not even your fault you're late.

Now say that you're late and it is your fault. You took a new route on a whim and drove a little more slowly because you passed a particularly pretty meadow; you hit the brakes at a yellow light instead of speeding through bc you wanted the quick chance to check your email; you sat in your car for a few extra minutes in the parking lot, because maybe your job sucks and you really needed those extra minutes today to psyche yourself up into getting out of the car and going inside and clocking in.

These little choices are you exercising your free will. Because to me, free will is all or nothing - it doesn't just apply to the big decisions.

On the other hand, predestination means that regardless of the choices you make or if it's a big decision or not, everything you do is ultimately going to lead you to a set point or position or place (your destiny).

And I can kind of look at it like a GPS - that is, there are a number of "insignificant" choices you could make and they will still lead you to where you're predestined to go. Like how a GPS will reconfigure your route if you miss your exit on the highway. It doesn't matter if you took Route A or Route B, you're still going to end up at your destination.

But say sometimes the route does matter. Say that there are certain scenarios in which there's only one road (for example, 14 million losses vs 1 win) and you can only get on it by following a specific series of events and what determines the ultimate outcome is whether or not you're late to work that day.

If you decide to wait those extra five minutes in the parking lot, that means that you weren't in your cubicle at 9:03 when Stanley from Accounting wandered by with his giant stack of papers, and when Mary Sue said hello to him, he got distracted and tried to wave and ended up dropping those papers. Had you been at your cubicle, you'd have swooped down to help him but since you weren't there, Stanley is crouched on the floor alone and doesn't notice Joe coming at him with a paper trolley so when he stands up, he and Joe collide and Stanley loses his balance and goes face-first toward the trolley and breaks his nose when he hits the metal handle on his way down.

Now Stanley has to go to the hospital to get his nose set because you wanted to sit in your car and spend five extra minutes hating your life that morning.

If the sacred timeline says that Stanley is supposed to be in that ER at that specific time on that specific day, and no other set of circumstances would get him there, because this will ultimately take Stanley down the road to whatever greater journey he's supposed to go on, then it has to happen. But say you exercise your free will and decide not to wait those five minutes, because the free will applies to every choice you make, even the tiny, insignificant ones. You chose to put on your big person pants and took a deep breath and just head inside - and because you chose to do that and because you were at your cubicle to help Stanley with his papers, Stanley never ends up in the ER and the timeline that's supposed to happen is suddenly at risk and the TVA has to get involved (I assume).

So having free will introduces way, way too many variables into a fixed timeline to ever keep track, because you're taking these tiny, seemingly insignificant choices that people are making every minute of every day, and you're multiplying them by trillions of sentient beings in the universe, and you're saying the fate of the timeline and reality itself depends on all of these beings either always making the choice they're supposed to make or constantly sending the TVA out whenever they don't.

It's fair to conclude, then, that both free will and a fixed, single timeline can't exist at the same time. Either you adhere to the fixed timeline and everyone does exactly what they're supposed to do every second of every minute of existence, or you have free will and autonomy over all of your decisions, no matter how big or small, and those decisions can result in a number of outcomes, ultimately leading you to one of several possible destinations.

Case in point: Tony didn't have to snap his fingers in Endgame. He chose to. Had he not, Thanos would have won. It doesn't matter if there was one way to victory or 14 million ways to failure; the timeline could ultimately only go one of two ways and the choice Tony willingly made determined that Thanos lost. It wasn't predetermined because if Tony had not chosen to snap his fingers, the timeline would have gone the other way.

My personal belief - and this isn't necessarily for the MCU, but in general - is that we do possess free will and the future is ever shifting and changing because nothing is written in stone. It holds up against most, if not all, of the world's belief systems. For example, if you believe that people have guardian angels, the rule is generally that your guardian angels can help you but you have to ask them; they can't decide to intervene without your permission because to do so would infringe upon your free will.

Similarly, you can go on etsy and pay $5 for a funsies psychic reading or pay a lot more money for an in-depth, specific tarot reading and both will tell you that the outcomes may change depending on the paths you take, and that their ultimate advice is for you to keep your focus on your goals and your own self so that you can be subconsciously manifesting the best possible future for yourself. (Not that I know this from experience. It was one time. It was a few times. My point stands, and also stop judging me.)

To get back to the MCU, though - if you determine that both a single, fixed timeline and free will can't simultaneously exist, and your ultimate purpose is upholding said timeline and not letting anyone fuck it up, lest it break off into lots of different branches, then it poses a pretty serious moral and/or ethical question of - who decides what choices we make and what paths we're destined for? The time lizards? Who gave them that authority? Did anyone, or did they just manifest themselves into existence one day, create the universe, and then decide all of the rules (and, if so, where does that leave the norns and the gods and other super powerful beings who are generally thought to be in charge of things)?

If free will doesn't exist and everyone is acting based on what has been predetermined for them by some higher being (or, in this case, time lizards), it takes away our autonomy, and if everything we do and every single tiny step we take is decided for us, what makes us any different than cogs in a machine just following orders? What separates us from robots?

Speaking of robots, it's interesting to me that the TVA's screening process (if you can call it that) has a failsafe against robots specifically. Any robot that might come through is destroyed immediately and in this case, “not a robot” is defined, more or less, as a sentient being that possesses a soul. What does the TVA have against robots if their ultimate goal is ensuring that the robotic machinations of the time lizards are consistently carried out to protect the sacred timeline?

A soul makes you human; the energy of the soul is what you, at the core, are. It can be assumed that having a soul also means that you have some sort of moral and ethical code by which you live your life but, if you don't also have free will, then what is the point of possessing a soul and a moral and ethical code?

Loki is a villain and he's told by Mobius, the TVA, Odin, and pretty much everyone who ever meets him that the only thing he's good for - the only reason he exists - is to cause pain and suffering and death. This has been predetermined for him; this is not his fault and he did not choose it. And every single choice he makes has either already been destined as the choice he was supposed to make, or will be pruned so it won't grow into the wrong timeline. Ultimately Loki can change neither his final destination, nor the purpose and meaning of his existence.

Which leads me to the theory that the several Loki variants that the TVA keeps coming across are the result of Loki consistently resisting against his predetermined path; he's trying to find the timeline where he is able to latch onto and keep his own free will in defiance of the timekeepers but, so far, he hasn't been successful. This could segue into why the current Variant is now going scorched earth and just obliterating the main timeline completely - because if there is no sacred timeline, there's nothing dictating who or what Loki can be, and free will is regained. If there's a multiverse that branches and branches beyond anyone's control, then there must be a branch in there, somewhere, where Loki can exist on his own terms and decide how his own story goes.

This also might be a theory for why Loki is already setting his sights on taking over the TVA (assuming that's not just something he told the variant for reasons). But my original point in delving into all this is to ask: if Loki is predestined to always be a villain whose story plays out exactly the same way because that's what's supposed to happen, then how can anyone ever hold his misdeeds against him? He's literally just existing as the timekeepers decided he would exist and everyone is blaming him for it.

And this leads me to ask, as well, if one's soul is generally good, and one possesses more good traits than bad, what is the logic in making them exist only for pain and destruction? If it's for a greater good, then it stands to reason Loki is not the only one predestined for misery, and what greater good could come from all that suffering?

Conclusion: the existence of the TVA as an organization means that there is one fixed, sacred timeline but the existence of said timeline is immoral and unethical because it means no one actually has any free will at all in the MCU. The very notion of heroes and villains is pointless because it has nothing to do with your own qualities or morality, it's literally the luck of the draw. In order to have free will, the sacred timeline has to be destroyed, and so my prediction is that the Big Bad of the Loki series is not the TVA and not the time keepers but the actual timeline itself, and the entire fate of the MCU rests on whether or not Loki can ultimately succeed.

Also, don't be late for work.

#well this was a journey #smfh #i hope it at least makes *some* sense #loki series meta #loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #long post #i should have revised this before posting lmao #i went back and edited some of it but meh #it's pretty nonsensical i think but also i confuse myself really easily so

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inscribeddiatribes · 4 years

Text

Only If For A Night

—

Summary: Steve’s decision to go back to the past has unintended consequences.

—

A/N: I decided to participate in the lucid dreams challenge by one of my favorite writers, @golden-ariess. This fic has literally taken me forever to write, but it’s finally finished!

Prompt: “Then tell me how I’m supposed to be.” I was also inspired by the lyrics from Only If for a Night by Florence + the Machine.

Time travel logistics and some endgame scenes have been changed.

Warnings: Contains Angst, Endgame spoilers, Steve Rogers centric, Slightly Yandere/Obsessive, Death.

—

It was supposed to be a simple mission. A final task to put an end to the chaos that Thanos had singlehandedly caused.

As Steve prepared to say his goodbyes, he mused on his current life. He had friends, a support system, and shockingly, he had Bucky back. Losing Bucky had affected him more than he’d care to admit. The loss of Bucky had left him reeling. It seemed like he was destined to feel miserable and all alone.

However, in the five years that he had spent without Bucky, he had found you. You muddled through life the same way he did, but you continued to live your life to the best of your ability by taking the time to find and improve yourself. In many ways he envied you, but you had been utterly alone for years before The Snap, which was a reality he didn’t have to face. He had lost Bucky, and while he may have felt alone, he never truly was.

You were unique, he fondly thought. There were probably a million words that he could use to describe you, but unique was the one that fit best.

Bucky and Sam would understand his decision, but you would be a different story.

—

After leaving Sam, Steve slowly made his way over to you. You looked at him as he came to a stop next to you.

You coolly stated, “I heard they figured out how to fix everything. I’m guessing that’s not what you’re here for though.”

His blood ran cold at the thought that you already knew what he was going to do. He opened his mouth to fumble out an explanation, but you interjected, “If you want to go… then go. I won’t stop you.”

You looked away from him and stared straight ahead. Steve could tell that you were beginning to shut him out. This wasn’t how he expected this to go. How could you shut down at a time like this? He finally had a chance to live a normal life, yet you weren’t happy for him. The words flew out before he could stop himself, “This isn’t how you’re supposed to be.”

You turned towards him and fixed him with a piercing glare, “Then tell me how I’m supposed to be.”

A wave of silence passed over you two. Steve heard you sigh. He desperately wished he knew what to say to fix this, but he was left speechless for once in his life. Steve muttered an apology and made his way back to his teammates.

—

Mission. Home. Idle Chatting. Repeat.

Steve could recite his routine like clockwork. His enjoyment of being with Peggy hadn’t been preserved over the years. His weariness of life frequently clashed with Peggy’s personality. Steve had quickly realized that her zeal and unwavering optimism exhausted him. Peggy understood war better than an average Joe, but she didn’t understand what horrors the future held. By extension, she didn’t understand him either — not anymore. It was inevitable that they wouldn’t last together.

A year. A year is how long it took for Steve to realize that he didn’t belong with Peggy. She was determined, smart, and ambitious. All traits that would please most people. However, she just wasn’t right. She just wasn’t… you. The decision to end things came easy to both of them. Peggy sent him on his way with a tight lipped smiled and a knowing glance.

—

He was back. For the first time in months, he was finally excited.

Steve quickly realized that he had no idea where everyone was. He followed the path closest to him to a road and hoped that a driver would be crazy enough to give him a ride to the Avengers building. He somehow managed to cause a traffic jam as people clambered out of their cars to stare at him in disbelief. It’d definitely be a long ride.

—

Fury sharply stared at Steve, “You’ve managed to make quite the commotion with that little stunt you pulled earlier, Rogers. You disappeared for four years, how could you expect anything less? You’re lucky that we have all the witnesses under control until we can release a new statement.”

Four years? How was that even possible? He had just been gone one year.

Bucky walked through the doorway and approached Fury. Bucky directed his eyes toward a plaque on the wall. It was… your plaque? It was enough to make Fury pause. Fury took a quick glance at Steve and proceeded to leave the room with a grimace. He immediately became suspicious. Fury would never give up an opportunity to yell at someone. Where were you?

Bucky softly sighed, “Pal, I know it’s a lot to take in. A lot of things have changed since you’ve been gone. Y/N isn’t here anymore. There was an attack and we couldn’t get to them in time, I’m so sorry. I have to join Sam on his mission soon, but SHIELD gave me an apartment I never stay at. You can stay there for as long as you want. A company car can take you there.”

Steve felt himself still. You were… dead? You didn’t deserve that. You should be here with him… no, he should have never left in the first place. You were gone. Why you? Why him? This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. He feels his chest tightening and morbidly hopes that he’ll be the next to go.

He couldn’t bear to look at the sympathetic look on Bucky’s face. Steve takes the key from Bucky’s outstretched hand. Bucky pats him on the shoulder and Steve manages to drag himself to the car awaiting him outside.

Steve had ruined his own happiness. The thought that he had messed things up this badly was enough to want to make him start sobbing. He briefly wonders if you had been in this much pain when he left.

—

He spent his nights spent holed up in Bucky’s apartment desperate for any form of interaction. He spent his days at parks during the day in hopes that some eager fan would spot him and bombard him with even something as simple as an awkward, sweaty handshake. Yet no one ever paid him any attention after his initial reappearance. His absence in The Avengers was quite apparent. Thousands of articles about his sudden departure and Sam’s new identity had easily convinced the world that he was a sham.

Even Bucky was slowly starting to give up on him. He never explicitly said that, but his lack of calls and abundance of mission said enough. He was alone.

He wanted to see you again. You were — and still are — his only escape from his loneliness and misery. He thought about you on that consequential day when he had decided to leave. The sunshine baring down on the both of you contrasted the mood of the whole affair. He wished he would have stopped to consider how you truly felt about him leaving. How your coldness towards him was only a coping method. He wished he could go back and scream at himself to stay.

Closing his eyes again, he cleared those thoughts away and willed himself to fall asleep. Dreams were his refuge. He was able to create happy memories of you that he never got to experience with you in real life. Vacations, garden tours, café dates. He did anything and everything with you. You and the whole world were at his fingertips in his dreams. You were his, only if for a night.

—

Bathroom. Eat. Dream. Repeat. Another routine that he could recite like clockwork, only he couldn’t leave this time.

Days passed by. Then weeks. Then months. Everything started blurring together. There was no point in trying to remember them. No one had any need for him anymore. He was no longer Captain America, that role was taken.

He realized he couldn’t be upset, he was the one that had caused this. It still stung to know that everyone had moved on and most importantly, that you were gone.

There was nothing he could now. It was too late. He had lost Peggy. He had lost his friends. Now, he had lost you too. No amount of dreaming would bring you back. He was alone again. He would always be alone — a man out of time.

—

Lyrics:

“And I heard your voice as clear as day. And you told me I should concentrate. It was all so strange and so surreal. That a ghost should be so practical. Only if for a night.”

I don’t own these characters, songs, or lyrics, nor did I create any of them. This work is strictly for fair use/ entertainment purposes. No money has been received from this work.

Check out my masterlist, you might find something you like! Reblogs are welcome! Follow for more :)

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|3

chapter 3: the background music

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: you get a chance to get closer to Tom, and you take it.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex (? didn’t proof read

word count: 6k (whoops)

here’s a playlist

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hi! I’ve been super busy I’m sorry! And I rewrote this like a thousand times but I like where this is going, so please! Tell me what you think, comments and reblogs are very welcome. (Btw it’d be cool if you listened to the songs)

It’s been a while since you felt your heart halt with excitement. You hadn’t felt your stomach jolt with butterflies since your first date with Timmy. And you kind of missed it, that ever lasting and wonderful joy to experience on a first encounter. The smiles, the tingle and the hand shaking. The little hints of flirting that led to asking someone out. It’s like walking into a movie theatre, with a promise of joy, with the taste of popcorn, and you find yourself walking in with excitement and getting transported into a whole new other world.

Love, like any movie, can be good, can be bad. Like a good story, one that’s promising and you can’t stop watching, and you want to see yourself in the emotions, and feel the air and the breeze.

Love is like movies, some of them you like, some of them you don’t. Movies make us cry, make us feel. Some of them make us laugh, some of them not so much.

And love, it has its own background music. Like in films, there are songs that just transport you back to that moment, to that scene. With Timmy, it was a calm song, too calm for your own convenience.

But Tom, not that you loved him, somehow had his own soundtrack. 80’s chaotic rock n’ roll. Rolling Stones vibes. Every time he walked into the room, it felt like one of those scenes in a movie, a bar with little lightning when the guy with blue jeans and white t-shirt walked in, cigarette in the edge of his mouth, walking in vainly, as if he thought everyone had their eyes on him. They probably did, if you were honest that made you hate him even more, but somehow it was interesting. A character that probably had no other personality trait than being an asshole.

It wasn’t always like that. Not that notorious, at least. Tom had changed from a 60’s chaotic rock n roll. Always rock n roll. You could picture it, if you had to imagine a scene from your childhood with Tom, you’d probably play The Kinks. Picture Book.

When Tom and you were younger, it was absolutely clear you didn’t get along. Constant hair pulling, insults, and pranks. A parade of hatred, yelling, fighting and very unnecessary arguments over very stupid stuff. And yes, Tom was still wrong, Robin Hood was not the superior Disney movie, just to clear that out.

Everyone said it: Those two can’t hate each other more. They were right.

At school, if you ever crossed paths, there’d be trouble. You’d often be at the principal’s office after having a heated argument with Tom or a prank, or…whatever you guys had come up with this time.

It was quite clear.

Your mother and Nikki, however, had a very different opinion on your relationship than anyone else, they were aware of your attitude and Tom’s, but they were still convinced they would fix it, and you didn’t blame them, you’d also be pissed if in the future your children didn’t get along with Harry’s or Sam’s, you’d try to force it as well. At a point, they stopped forcing the ‘future romantic relationship’ bullshit dream and settled with trying to get you guys getting along without fighting. They were sure that the fighting was probably because you had only a few things in common, so they pushed your activities together.

Add in some Johnny B. Goode to remember the following.

First, it was piano lessons. First class and you had already knocked down the piano while yelling at each other. You weren’t welcomed for a second class. Then it was baseball, and Tom had hit your nose with the ball, it had been an accident ‘allegedly’. It wasn’t. You weren’t welcome for that class either. Painting classes, you had painted Tom’s clothes all green and made his hair pink. The teacher had claimed she’d never seen two kids more unfit for art than you two.

So, yeah, it didn’t work out.

Eventually, Nikki and your mother decided to stop trying, or at least they gave up the extra classes. At least not together, Tom started ballet and you found joy in photography classes. You were getting along better since you didn’t have to actually spend time together.

So they’d just ask how your relationship was going and whenever they wanted to have tea together they’d avoid bringing you two together unless you were cool with each other. It made it very difficult that you were very good friends with the twins.

But you had had your secrets, even after everything, you still crushed on him from time to time. However, the last time you had had any kind of feelings like those had been when he had taken you to prom. Of course it had awakened something in you, but those feelings had never come back because he had broken your heart. What else could you expect from someone like him? After that, you’d promised yourself you’d never fall again for him. Not that you fell for him, but you promised that his smile would never make your stomach jolt with joy.

It hadn’t.

Let’s go 70’s music now, maybe. Come and Get Your Love-Redbone.

Even on your 18th birthday, the last time you ackwloedged you had made out---kissed- with him hadn’t brought any feelings. Or maybe, they had surfaced but they had been very different feelings. They were mostly confused and disgusted. THere had been one more thing but... You decided to ignore it. But you hadn’t really felt anything for him, less when you realized how big of an asshole he was to you.

You were sure he had never felt anything for you. He had made it very clear. ‘I’d rather eat a frog than kiss you’. Yet, he had kissed you.

You had once bothered him about it: “Hey Holland, I know why your face looks like that, you said you’d rather eat a frog than kiss me, so you ended up never swallowing that frog!”

However you were now facing a predicament. You had a month, a month to make him fall in love with you when he clearly had no interest in you.

That’s all you could think about as you had arrived at his parents’ place. You had been quiet on the ride back home. You hadn’t even told him how it had gone. But he had let you choose the music. You’d love to change the soundtrack on your relationship with Tom, maybe an 80’s more type of funky music.

You hadn’t told your friends about it, but you had told them you’d be going to a bar later to celebrate. But you had been quiet. You needed to think of something fast because you knew how your boss liked to work, and this was the opportunity of a lifetime. You’d be away for two months and if you didn’t come back with a script for her you’d be screwed. This was the worst timing, Tom was going to start filming in exactly three days, sure he’d start in London and then go to America, but you had to do something quick and come up with a lame excuse to hang out with him. Change the background music in your scenes with him.

How does one make your enemy fall in love with you? You thought of the possibility of changing the script and sending in an idea to Alessandra, maybe you could talk about something that was actually happening to you. The story of your breakup with Timmy? That could work, although your breakup had been extremely boring. No one would like to watch something as calm and boring and that probably was playing the worst music in history.

And if you thought about it, with Tom, it was like one of those sexy chaotic rock n’ roll songs.

How would you make him fall in love with you? And why did you want him to? That’s all you had been thinking about on the way home. Because there was a part of you that wanted him to feel the way you felt back when you were younger. You wanted him to feel that agony of knowing that you liked someone who would rather go eat a frog than to ever like you back. Someone who constantly found ways to hurt you. Who could ever fall in love with such a beast like him?

Tom led the way to the door. And you gave it a thought, all of this was now just a scene, something you were writing, but writing it along the way. And you pictured it on the script. How you could start and use some childhood scenes, and then, to this exact moment, with a little bit more of imagination.

Ext. 1989 London Suburbs-Day.

Y/N gets out of the car, an 86 blue porsche. Tom is playing with the keys and heading to the door.

Y/N

Hey, Tom?

You saw it, you could write it.

“Hey, Tom?” You asked. And you had to take a look at him, and really stare. So he’d know. You knew him, that was your weapon. You knew what he liked, what he didn’t, you knew the girls he’d dated. You had that in your favor, and you knew that Tom loved being noticed.

He noticed that you were staring and you saw him slightly concerned.

“Oh, you’re talking, good,” he said as he cleared his throat and then you finally arrived at his face, arching your eyebrows as your eyes met his.. He’d grown up, but you could still see that kid you once knew. “Are you okay?” He asked. And you saw him, he was weirded out. He noticed you were staring.

“Thanks for the ride, it meant a lot to me.” For starters, you could try to be nice.

He gave you an awkward smile. “Sure.”

You walked to the door now, but he stopped you.

“How did it go?” He asked. And you only patted him on the shoulder.

“Good, thanks for worrying,” and you placed a kiss on his cheek. And you thought of the camera, maybe a close up to the lipstick stain you’d left.

He went red and paused, triumphantly you opened the door and there was his whole family. Of course Nikki would do this. They knew how big this was and they loved making a big deal about it, especially since Tom had driven you.

This was awkward, it wasn’t like you didn’t feel comfortable with the Hollands, au contraire, but there was that pinch of guilt holding you back, you knew what you were going to do and you felt like everyone knew about it. Especially since they saw Tom was trying to scratch the remaining lipstick on his cheek.

But you walked in, Nikki was on the phone, and she dedicated a big smile to you.

“It’s your mum!” she mouthed. Your parents were currently having a perfect vacation in Paris, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d rather be third wheeling your parents than trying to come up with ways to make your biggest enemy fall in love with you. It sounded so dramatic, an enemy. Calling him that seemed so immature and childish. But there was no other way to call him. He was your mortal enemy.

Dom was the one to approach you and hugged you hello.

You didn’t know if they sensed your tension.

“Hey y/n, what’s with the long face?” Sam asked as he grinned looking at you, walking over. “Who died?”

“Her hopes and dreams, probably,” Tom said behind you. “And her sex life,” he laughed, earning a glare by Nikki.

“Tom,” Nikki turned stern.

“What? Didn’t she just break up?” Tom pushed with a smirk.

Nikki crossed her arms, “Thomas,” her voice was firm as she watched him leave for the kitchen, but then softened as she looked at you. “Y/N, long time no see! I see Tom drove you,” Nikki grinned.

“Yeah, he did, didn’t leave me alone” you chuckled. “He was nice, that didn’t last” you chuckled.

“Your brother is coming, too, by the way,” she informed you. Great. But how did it go?” She grinned. “Do you have a job now?”

“I….”

Harry tackled you from behind. “Yes, idiot! How did it go?”

You chuckled as you turned around to finally hug him. “Hi!” You wanted to tell Harry everything, everything, you hadn’t seen him in a while, he was too busy with his own things and his new girlfriend, Emma.

“Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he said.

“Me too,” you grinned. “How are things with Emma? How are you?”

“Good, great, things are… great, I’ve got some news!” He chuckled. “But, okay, tell me everything about the interview, I’m so sorry I couldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s alright! It went amazing! I… Well, it’s complicated, but I kind of nailed it.”

“Really?” Tom asked as he was opening up a bag of crisps. “Then why were you quiet all this time?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you,” you snapped. “Never share good news with your enemy.”

Tom rolled his eyes and forced a laugh.

You turned back to Harry. “But, hey, what is the news?”

“Um… let’s just… Have lunch.”

Before you knew it, you were sitting down listening to Harry and Sam, both of them making you laugh with their stories. Tom sat at the other edge of the table, far from you. This was how it usually went, him far away from you and avoiding any eye contact with you. Everyone understood it, and they didn’t try to push it that far anymore. There were times when you turned to eat, when things were bad, but right now it seemed like it was bothering Tom. You could see he wanted to join the conversation at times but he remained on his phone, or talking to his parents.

Your brother arrived and he sat near Tom, they were friends, and they could talk to each other. And although your brother was aware of your relationship with Tom, he had grown up with him, too so there couldn’t be any hard feelings against them. Besides, everyone in the family was aware of it. This was between you and Tom only, nothing to drag them in.

You caught Tom’s eyes a few times, and you had, against your will, dedicated him a smile or two. He hadn’t smiled back.

“Okay, so what’s the big deal, y/n?” James asked. “I mean, I love coming over for lunch here but, how did it go? Are you an official writer?”

You chuckled as you saw them looking at you. “I well…”

They frowned.

“Well, they asked me to write a script, for a new series, pitch in an idea, they’re giving me two months to write it and if they like it, I am officially working for them.”

“That’s nuts,” Harry frowned.

“That sounds like the worst job offer,” Paddy pointed out.

“Pads,” Sam frowned at him.

“It’s a competition kind of thing, if they like it enough, they’ll produce it,” you explained. “That’s why I’m not as...excited.”

“But it’s a chance,” Tom pointed out. “I… talked to your friend, he… Charlie, that’s his name?” He asked. “And he told me about that and how they’re only choosing between three people.”

Your eyes widened. He had talked to Charlie and that made you feel uncomfortable. “Yes, well, it’s a shot, it’s better than having nothing.”

“But wait, until then you have like… No job?” Sam asked.

You bit your lip. “Yup, but hey it’s… a good shot, I honestly thought Alessandra was going to fire me.”

“That’s nonsense,” James pitched in. “But okay, I’m still proud of you, little one,” he grinned.

You knew it wasn’t a big shot, but it was a chance.

“Yes, it’s still good.” Harry pursed his lips.

Nikki and Dom watched you, and you saw it in their eyes the same pity your parents usually had.

“But hey!” You tried to change the subject. “Harry’s got news too, right?”

Harry popped his lips. “Yeah, uh… I got… Well, I actually, ...it got in, the screenplay, they’re producing it,” Harry explained, and he said it with the softest voice as if he was trying not to hurt you. But this was weird, you already knew that part. “But well, we’re starting the production in a week in… Scotland.”

“That’s amazing!” You grinned.

And his whole family started to cheer for him, and the tension in the room faded out.

Except when Tom finally… realized something. “Wait, in a week?” Tom asked. “Then… you’re not...coming to help me out?”

And the table went quiet. Harry was Tom’s assistant, he knew schedules, clothes, everything. Harry was basically Tom’s boss.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk about that, too,” Harry bit his lip. “I can’t… I would’ve told you sooner so we could find another assistant but-”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Tom cleared his throat. “I’m super excited I just… I need to find an assistant.”

And then you saw it. A chance, as if you had just wished upon a star and it had granted you an opportunity. If this hadn’t been the situation you probably would’ve called him out on being so selfish and arrogant and vain as you usually did, but this was unexpected as if the universe was trying to help you with your plan.

The family started to give him so options and they were trying to find a balance between finding somehting that could soothe stupid Tom and congratulate Harry

“What if… I’m your assistant?” You said, loud enough for all them to quiet down.

Tom laughed. “What?”

“Yeah, think about it,” you shrugged. “I don’t have a job right now, and it’ll be what? Two months filming? It’s a perfect time for me to help you out and write”

Tom frowned, staring at you. “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not?” You grinned.

“Because you can’t stand each other,” this time your brother popped in. “And being his assistant would mean spending this entire two months with him.”

“And he gets pretty annoying,” Sam said.

“I’m used to that, I can handle that,” you said.

“I can’t handle you,” Tom frowned.

“Now, now, Tom it might be… a good idea,” Nikkie said, and of course she would agree. Of course she wanted you to be around him, with hopes of you getting along. And right now, you wanted more than getting along.

“Yes, you’re both adults now, you can be decent, right?” Dom intruded.

“I can,” you smiled.

“No, you can’t,” Tom clenched his jaw.

“Oh, c’mon, Tom, help her out,” Harry said. “Besides, I’m sure she’ll be great, she'd be amazing at planning.”

Tom looked away. “I’ll… think about it.”

Lunch became quiet on Tom’s side of the table, while you kept talking to Harry and Sam. You weren’t quiet, and eventually ended up in the living room, having a laugh and waiting for it to get dark so you could go to the bar where you’d meet your friends.

You borrowed a hoodie and then you were good to go, Sam, Harry and you were about to walk out when you bumped into Tom who had also stayed, talking to your brother, who had just left.

Tom looked at the three of you and walked past you.

“Have fun.”

Usually, he wouldn’t be invited, but right now you were under very different circumstances. It felt different. And there was still that tinge in your ear telling you to back away, no one should play with fire unless you want to get burned.

“You can come, too,” you said as you turned around.

“What?” Tom frowned as he stopped.

“You’re invited,” you cleared up, as he slightly turned to you.

“Really?”

“Sure,” you smiled. “C’mon it’s my way to pay you for the ride.”

He clenched his jaw, but he quickly accepted it and joined you.

Before you knew it, you had a beer in your hand and he was sitting right beside you. You didn’t understand how or why, but he had been the one to sit without a warning. You were in your favorite booth at the end of the pub where you had a little bit more privacy. And you watched Tom, and his cap.

You didn’t stand him, why were you going to risk it all for this? And the idea of being his assistant was giving you a headache.

But you thought about it, how stupid it was of Alessandra to ask for a script based on real life. It was probably one of her most stupid ideas, and you knew that she probably was doing it because she believed of herself as a teacher that was giving the key of art to the interns. When in reality she was only pushing everyone back. But maybe this would be a challenge for you, you’d never written anything remotely close to a love story, only when younger, maybe, but you didn’t like writing love because it didn’t feel like a challenge to you. Maybe it was now.

Somehow, Charlie and Danielle had decided that the perfect way to get the evening going was to ask about your childhood.

There was a live group playing music, and somehow you felt it was a sign. 70’s and 80’s rock n’ roll. It suited the vibe, as the light was dimmed out.

“Man, I—If I’m honest, I think we probably have everything filmed,” Tom said, as he answered Danielle’s question of your childhood. “Y/N and Harry used to carry that camera everywhere.”

The beer in your hand was bittersweet, you had stopped counting how many you had had, Tom kept ordering you both beer, something advised by Harry and Sam, who had pointed out you both needed to be a little bit tipsy to stand each other.

“Really?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, we should pick that up again, you know?” You nodded, as you let down your beer, you brushed your fingers against Tom’s. “It's good to have memories.”

Harry grinned. “I mean we didn’t really stop.”

“No, but you know, we used to literally film everything we’d be filming this!” You pointed out.

Tom chuckled as he took out his phone. “Hey everyone, it’s Tom and I’m kind of drunk here,” he admitted to the camera. “On my side, you’ll be able to see a troll, one of a kind, viewer discretion is advised,” he pointed at you as you glared at him.

“Oh, piss off.”

“See? Oh maybe I’m wrong, are you a witch?” He smirked as he pointed the camera at you.

“Change a letter there, sweetheart,” Charlie grinned. “It’s not a w it’s a b.”

Harry snickered. “Oh, don’t give him ideas.”

Tom shook his head. “Nah, she’s more of a witch,” Tom said carefully as he turned to you. “The wicked witch of the east.”

“It’s the west, dumbass,” you corrected him.

“No, because the one who died is the one from the east,” he winked at you. “And I’m Glinda.”

“You know she’s the real villain of the story right?” You frowned.

“She is not.”

“No, she’s not but—“you chuckled. “I’m drunk. I dunno.”

But the conversation was flowing and you were hinting some flirting at Tom sometimes, like casually touching his shoulder or batting your eyes a bit more, and he was catching up on it. But your nature would show up and you’d end up mocking each other and rolling your eyes. If anything, you could blame it on the alcohol.

“You know, you know what you two need?” Charlie said between drunken giggles. Tom was recording again as he made silly faces to the camera but then started to record you.

“A burger,” you answered, turning back to Charlie.

“With chips, yes,” Tom agreed and you laughed and slightly leaned against him. You had significantly gotten closer to him through the night and you were sure his hand had landed several times on your waist. His hand was slightly now behind your shoulders, resting against the booth.

“No, you guys need to bone,” Charlie snaked. You felt your heart falling down and you quickly shifted away from Tom. He retracted his hand to himself.

Harry burst into laughter. “This dude is mental.”

“These two?” Sam threw his head back. “oh gosh, if you told them to screw they would actually bring nails and screw,” Sam laughed.

“Yes, I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than have to spend 5 minutes with him,” you said.

“And I’d rather eat a frog,” Tom chuckled.

“Just swallow the one in your mouth,” you giggled, poking his cheeks then proceeded to make more faces at his camera.

“I’m serious, all that hatred you’re showing it’s only a facade,” Charlie said. “All of it would be gone if you gave in to that sexual tension you’ve got going on.”

“Gross,” you stated

“It’s simple psychology,” Charlie explained, “you’re both rude to each other because you can’t have the other.”

Harry coughed, “That would never happen.” You saw Harry gulp down his beer,

“Why can’t people just accept we don’t like each other?” You wondered as you watched them.

“You’re like my soulmate but for hate,” Tom zoned out for a minute. “My soulhate.”

“Besides it’d be weird,” Harry pointed out. “We grew up together.”

“That would make it weird?” Tom raised his brow.

Charlie took a long sip of his vodka. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t,” you rolled your eyes.

But the night continued, Charlie and Danielle left eventually leaving you with the Holland’s. The twins left and, you hadn’t accepted their offer to drive you home. Surprisingly Tom hadn’t left either, it seemed like he had picked up on your little flirting game. This was a good start.

“So, you really do want to be my new assistant?” He asked, as he snatched your drink out of your hand, taking a sip.

“I actually do,” you sassed as you took it back, sipping it. “I need a job and might as well have something to kind of do with a big star, you know?”

He watched you. “You think we will last without fighting?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Well, you’ve got a better idea? Have anyone else for the job? You start in three days” you pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“Besides, I know you, Tom, for better or for worse,” you admitted.

He clenched his jaw. “I guess. You do realize we’ll have to spend an awful lot of time together? And that you’ll have to travel with me?” He was condescending.

“It’ll be strictly business, won’t it?”

“Yes but-“

“I’ll be as professional as I can be, Thomas Stanley Holland,” you grinned

“Don’t call me that.”

You giggled. “Little Stanley…”

Tom frowned. LY/N, see? This. This is what I mean.”

“Ah, c’mon Stan,” you laughed. “I won’t be showing all your embarrassing pictures and telling your stories to everybody.”

Tom stood up, ready to leave. “That’s it.”

You pulled him back down. “Tommy, I’m joking.”

He glared at you. “I don’t trust you.”

“You think I trust you?” You laughed. “We both can lose a lot here, Tommy, I won’t be risking my career in spite of yours.”

He bit his lip, looking away.

“Tommy, please.”

“I...fine. But I need you to understand… You’ll be spending time with me.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, but it came out very poisonous, earning a scoff from Tom. “Why are you scared?”

“Because I honestly think this is the most time we’ve shared without tearing each other apart,” he shrugged.

You stared down at the half full bottle that you’d been sharing. You took it into your hands.

“Ah, it’s the beer, probably,” you grinned

He took it from your hands and sipped it. “Right, alcohol makes us nice to each other.”

“You call this nice?” You took the beer back.

“I’m not trying to ruin your life so yes,” he smirked, taking it back.

“Am I ruining yours?”

“Kind of,” he admitted.

You smirked as you finally took the beer back and downed it. “Good.”

“Shall I remain drunk all the time, then?” He laughed, his laughter was dragged.

“Dunno, it’s up to you, you do tend to get a little nicer,”

He laughed. “Me? You’re the one who hasn’t been able to keep her hands to herself,” he pointed out as your hand had brushed his.

You clenched your jaw. “And you haven’t pushed me away,” you smirked, as you took his hand and pushed it away.

Tom licked his lips as he stared at you. “Well.” He shrugged, as he placed his arm back behind you, resting it back on the chair.

“See? Alcohol.”

He laughed. “I can’t be drunk all the time.”

“I can.”

“Y/N.”

“Tom, I’m joking, and I genuinely want to help you,” you said. “Besides, I’ll have time to write this script.”

He rested his hand on his head, you could smell the alcohol even from that distance. “What will you write about?”

“Dunno, I’ll see.”

“You’re good, don’t worry.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’ve never read me.”

“I’ve read many of your scripts,” Tom scoffed. “Not only the ones when we were little, I...also the ones you’ve shown to Harry, they’re all good.”

You frowned. “Thanks.”

“I don’t see why you’re so stressed about this.”

“Because… it’s complicated,” you shrugged. “It’s not...something I usually write.”

“Hm. Is it a love story what you need to write?” He mocked.

“I well, kind of, so shut up, you know I hate writing those,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hm, you do, now?”

“Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever written some true authentic love story,” you admitted. And you hadn’t, you really hadn’t.

“Because you’re the villain of the stories, you said it when we were kids. The villains will never…”

“Never find love, I know. Maybe you’re right. But you’re the villain in my story so…” You wrinkled your nose.

“We’re doomed.” He bit his lip.

“Or…” You grinned.

“Or?” He frowned.

“Maybe the villains end up falling for each other,” you suggested, shooting your shot.

He laughed to himself and turned away. A slight blush upon his. “Hm, hinting a crush again, y/n? I think I’ve been clear with you before, you’re not my type.” His voice had turned darker.

“Oh, please, Tom, I’d never fall for some jerk like you,” you pushed.

“You did once.”

“I was 9 and stupid”

“Oh, right you’re not 9 anymore, but you’re still stupid,” he grinned.

You shrugged. “But not as stupid as to be one of those many who’d fall for you, you know?” “Ah, the I’m not like other girls cliché,” Tom laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but it’s not really a cliché here,” you pointed out. “I mean if we’re honest, I know you enough to know you’re an asshole, and everyone else sees you through the cameras, you know?”

He raised his brows. “I guess… yet...You’ve always been different, y/n, you know? Like, I’m always on the edge with you.”

You grinned. “Are you now?”

“Yeah, one minute you’re flirting then the other you’re doing this,” he pointed at your glaring face, as you felt yourself blushing ignoring his gaze. “it’s weird. I never know if you’re flirting or not.”

“I’m not,” you crossed your arms. “Not with you.”

“Then who were you flirting with all night? Harry? Sam?” Tom pushed.

“No… Charlie.”

“Charlie? The gay guy,” Tom laughed.

You flipped him off.

He smired. “See? Just two seconds ago you had your hand in my hair.”

“Alcohol.”

The lights were dimmed.

“We should… get out of here, I’ll get us an uber.”

You walked out, tipsy enough to walk and just slightly cold. You knew that asking for his jacket would earn only a laugh from him. He had been just nice enough now, and you knew this could blow up. But you felt dizzy, and to keep yourself steady you grabbed his arm. He didn’t move as he stared at his phone.

“You’re always like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“You’re like polar opposites in one person,” he commented.

You pushed him away. “Ah great, am I bipolar now?”

“No, no, that’s not…”He closed his eyes. “Not what I meant.”

The car arrived and you both hopped into the backseat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he continued.

“Then what did you mean?” You crossed your arms.

“I don’t know.”

You glanced at him. “And you’re worse, you’ve been playing with me since kids.”

“What does that---?” He frowned. “I never-”

“You always gave me hope.”

“I didn’t. Maybe you were too busy dreaming with me and misread everything, I’ve never liked you.

“I’m not implying you liked me,” you snapped.

“Then?”

“I’m implying you were an asshole.”

The driver widened his eyes as he looked at you from the mirror, you saw he was trying to suppress a smile.

Tom clenched his jaw. “Ah, that I am, but, please, sweetheart but you and I could never be.”

“I know, mainly because I despise you.”

He scooted closer. “And because I’m cool and you’re you.”

“And I’m me?” You saw him getting extremely closer.

He held your chin. “Look at us, y/n we come from different worlds.” He was leaning in.

“As long as I remember we grew up in the same one, yet you still managed to become an asshole,” you pushed his face away from yours.

“I think we’re getting a little bit mean again,” Tom rolled his eyes.

You remained quiet.

“I don’t know y/n, maybe they’re all right, I—”

“Who?”

“Everyone maybe we—have to I dunno,” He placed his hand on your leg and you raised your brows.

“What?”

He slowly wrapped his arm behind your shoulder and leaned closer. “I feel like we need to loosen up a little y/n.”

You felt your heart racing, you were angry, you didn’t like this and you didn’t want him to believe that you actually still fancied him, but this was all working, this is exactly where you technically wanted to have him. So, you had to give in.

“And what do you suggest?” Your voice was low.

“I don’t know, I’m giving in to all your flirting,” He laughed as he scooted closer.

You turned around, and laughed. “My flirting?

It felt like late 60’s, rock n roll

Tom, turned your head back to him. “Please you’ve been doing it since you came out of that interview.”

“Hm,” you nodded. “I remember being quiet.”

“And I remember those lips on my cheek,” he gently poked your lips, and maybe it was the alcohol speaking for itself but you wanted to kiss him, and kiss every single spot on his skin.

You cleared your throat. “Ah, please Tom, I was being nice,” you rolled your eyes.

But then you felt his lips against your neck, you instinctively closed your eyes.

“Hm, maybe be nicer?” he kept kissing your neck.

“Nicer?”

“You know, lips on mine,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re drunk, Tom”

“Maybe, but you are, too,” and with that he sealed the deal and closed the gap, combining your lips with yours. And maybe the driver had done it on purpose, or maybe it was faith or your imagination,, trying to get a perfect soundtrack for you, but ‘You Shook Me’ by Led Zeppelin was just the exact song you needed to listen to while kissing your enemy. But how far were you going to let yourself go?

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Let’s Review || Chapter 21

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat more warnings: you know what? there’s really not anything. except like... this ones gonna hurt 🤙🤙 good luck

read this: fuck guys this chapter was draining and insane, please reblog and comment if you liked it. pleeeease.

The anxiety had been building for a week now, but as the final day of Penny’s stay in the tower progressed Peter found himself practically vibrating with panic. He’d been trying, desperately, to make Tony change his mind—he’d spent an entire day not talking to the man, had screamed and raged against him, he’d cried and begged, offered anything in exchange for Penny to stay. The older man had held his ground remarkably, gently admonishing him for all of his misbehavior and brattiness and explaining, every time, that it was what was best for Penny.

In all fairness, Peter realized about half way through the week there was no hope for convincing Tony, but he had to keep up the behavior lest he rouse suspicion. Thankfully it wasn’t exactly hard to be depressed and angry and petty, not when Tony was endangering his sister.

The garbled piece of technology in his pocket felt heavier than ever, in his head the iridium electrodes were ten thousand degrees. Peter didn’t want to use it—kind of. He didn’t want to make Tony sad or angry, but he kind of did? What he knew he wanted was for Penny to escape, with or without him. Any disappointment or anger would be worth it, he’d revel in it just a bit, and Penny would be safe.

“Come here baby.”

His feet moved before he even thought of it, trailing over to where Tony was standing at the bar with a finger of scotch in a tumbler. They were getting ready to head down to the soldier’s floor, freshly showered after a day in the lab and just waiting for it to be time. Peter didn’t understand why they couldn’t just go early, why did they have to wait all day anyway? He could’ve been with Penny hours ago, he could’ve helped her escape hours ago. The clock was ticking and his nerves were rising.

“You are freaking out,” Tony told him pointedly as he drew Peter into his arms once he was close enough, tucking the boy against his chest, “I can feel your brain going nuts. What do you need baby?”

“Penny.” It wasn’t a belligerent or angry response, just short and desperate.

Tony sighed heavily, weight settling on his shoulders at the teenager’s words. He’d been conflicted for the last week, ever since Steve told him the ‘plan’. The plan to take Penny a thousand miles away and tuck her away inside of a cabin until they could condition her to behave. He understood the method to the madness—he’d considered spiriting them away before too. But the keyword was them. He had considered taking them both off to some secluded cabin. It was the same sensation Tony had gotten when he decided he would steal Penny away along with Peter; they were supposed to be together.

But that wasn’t to say he didn’t see the necessity.

Tony was fully aware that Penny was not adapting the same way his boy was. Where Peter had fallen into tolerance and was moving towards acceptance and potentially even appreciation, Penny was still actively resisting most of the time. Steve revealed that she’d started to break after reaching her pain threshold, there had been small cracks in the surface and the soldiers were managing to pry their way through the gaps. Had it been Peter, they would’ve had him calm and docile and perfectly behaved by now—but Penny was a completely different animal.

It was slow going though, agonizingly slow. And her reluctance caused a correlating reluctance in Peter, who generally matched her opinions and emotions but at about a quarter of the level of passion. Not to say Peter wasn’t passionate about things, the kid was, but Tony still wondered if the teenager realized the gravity of what had happened the way Penny did.

For all of his intelligence, Peter was still young. His ability to think logically was great, but his immaturity hindered him; Penny had shielded him, a lot, from the realities of the world. The idea that he was with Tony for the rest of his life likely didn’t mean much, it was a concept but Peter didn’t have any way to conceptualize the future like that. His brain was perpetually stuck in the present, just like most kids his age.

Penny understood consequences. She understood harsh realities and disadvantages and unescapable struggle; she’d lived it for so long. Three jobs, no bed, no insurance, no degree, no— Tony had to stop himself. Penny understood suffering in a way she hadn’t allowed Peter to, had protected him from. Penny knew what forever meant and she knew it was crippling. Peter was in the early chapters, still in his exposition and living in the moment. His sister was at the end of her story, a tragic dénouement of everything she’d ever known.

Peter had retained his rose-colored glasses, whereas Penny’s were smashed when she was thirteen. Hard stop, no condolences for the loss of her childhood—they were obliterated when she could barely comprehend what life was and the difference between the pair was palpable.

If they kept the siblings together, Penny would never adapt beyond protecting Peter. She wouldn’t be able to see the future as an opportunity versus a loss, not while she felt like she had failed him. Seeing Tony touch him, talk to him, look at him was enough to make Penny fall into a pit of existential dread over her failure to protect her brother. The separation had to happen; him and Peter needed to develop away from the soldiers and Penny—there was no other viable solution.

The way Tony’s arm tightened around his back for just a moment, a quick reassuring squeeze, told Peter that despite the silence the man hadn’t changed his mind. He wouldn’t relent. He wouldn’t fucking fix it.

“Here, you know what? Let’s peek in,” Tony gestured towards the TV with the tumbler, tugging Peter around the bar to stand just behind the sofa, “JARVIS, how’s Penny and the Popsicles?”

“Ms. Parker has just changed clothes and is awaiting your arrival, sir,” the AI responded smoothly, “shall I pull up the camera feed?”

“Yeah, throw it on the TV,” Tony wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him into his chest once again, resting his cheek against the side of his head while they focused on the screen, where Penny was walking into the living room.

She was wearing a long sleeved shirt that dusted her knuckles and leggings, her masses of hair pulled into a bobble on the top of her head. The camera was focused on the living room as a whole, angled to see the front of the couch and armchairs, Penny’s daybed just barely visible in the corner. Bucky was sitting on the armchair, phone in his flesh hand while Steve skirted the top corner of the screen, walking around the kitchen and dining room.

Peter clocked that something was amiss immediately. Penny was hugging herself around the waist, shoulders hunched towards her ears as she crossed the room. They were able to catch her profile as she came to a stop in front of Bucky and waited until she had his attention, a hint of the expression on her face something Peter recognized to be heart wrenching. When he put his phone down and sat up slightly, looking almost concerned, Penny immediately tucked herself into his lap—of her own volition. Bucky was visibly in disbelief, arms snapping up to help settle her, tucking her close when she rolled even further onto her hip and pressed her chest against his. She went so far as to press her face against the slope of his neck, arms tucking around the back of his neck and shoulders tightly.

Bucky had followed all of her movements valiantly, helping her adjust and tugging her knees to rest between his thigh and the arm rest. Steve even crept further into the corner of the screen, looking at Bucky with raised eyebrows and signing something with one hand while absently holding up a pitcher with the other.

There was something crawling under Peter’s skin; he could feel it slithering over his muscle tissue and insinuating itself into his being. A sharp tremble ran down his back and he pulled away from Tony, pretending to turn to wipe away tears when instead he was trying to get a handle on his shaking. He couldn’t identify it, didn’t know what was going on, it felt like his blood was bubbling in his veins and he tamped down the shiver fiercely before Tony could tug him back into his chest.

“See baby, Penny’s fine, she’s just waiting for us,” he murmured gently against the side of Peter’s head—Tony didn’t know, didn’t recognize how sad she looked— “I know this is going to be hard. It’s gonna be hard for all of us, but Penny won’t be gone long baby. They’ll be back before we know it.”

Penny would break before they knew it. Penny would break. Penny would shatter. Something viscous was festering in his chest, constricting his organs. His heart was pounding but blood was oozing rather than pumping through his veins, it felt thick and congested—he felt sick, he was going to puke but Tony was shuffling him towards the elevator already. Peter swallowed hard, allowing himself to be ushered inside while the man followed behind.

“Soldiers’ floor, J.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony cursed before the elevator doors closed, sticking his arm out, “I forgot Penny’s present, wait here baby.”

And all of a sudden the blood was rushing through Peter’s veins. He didn’t even think—the moment Tony was out of sight he ripped the piece of tech from his pocket and opened the tiny pocket that allowed whatever little physical maintenance that was necessary for an AI enhanced elevator. He couldn’t have imagined such a pristine opportunity, hadn’t had any idea how he was going to execute his plan.

“Mr. Parker, I do not—”

“Sorry JARVIS,” he gasped, on the verge of a panic attack as he hastily connected the circuit board to the elevator system and, by proxy, JARVIS’ system.

Peter had just closed the panel before Tony returned and the teenager found himself gasping for breath, leaning against the railing in the elevator. Tony sighed upon seeing his distress, obviously believing it was a result of Penny’s impending departure—it wasn’t like JARVIS could explain otherwise, Peter glanced towards the red dot in the corner of the elevator, once again apologizing to the AI in his mind.

When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, he stepped into the foyer where the soldiers’ front door was located and waited, shaking, to see what happened when Tony stepped off. He let the man shuffle him along, listening for the sound of the elevator doors behind them. Tony didn’t seem to notice that it stayed in place, open, an anomaly for either of the tower residents’ personal elevators.

The front door opened and Penny burst through, immediately jumping up to wrap her arms around Peter’s shoulders to tug him into the biggest hug she was capable of. He could feel her shaking, Tony’s hand rested on the small of his back and the soldiers were standing inside the apartment, waiting to welcome them in. Peter reeled with scenarios, looking to the side at Tony’s face, his eyes. He let his eyes trail over him for just a few seconds before shifting.

He made eye contact with Steve for all of four seconds before sweeping Penny up and darting back to the still open elevator, “JARVIS! Down, now! Fast!”

He slid through the doors with Penny clutched to his chest just before the door closed and the elevator started to descend at the fastest rate that was safe for unaided, standing human transportation.

“PALTI CHAYIM WHAT DID YOU DO?!” She was screaming in Hebrew, words flying from her mouth so fast he couldn’t even keep up—something about stupid, why, what they’ll, safe—

“PENNY—Fuck! You have to run! Stop screaming, listen! When we get to the floor you run!” He shouted back, trying not to shake her too hard while they continued to descend uncomfortably fast, “I don’t know how long it’ll work!”

“Peter why did you do this?” Penny was sobbing into his chest while he struggled to get them both to their feet, “Palti Chayim, I—Fuck! Fuck—”

Her hands dug into his shirt roughly and she shoved him into the back corner of the elevator, falling against him just a moment later. Peter’s arm lashed around her waist when she almost fell while trying to turn, her back pressing him further into the corner and he realized the elevator was starting to slow. Penny’s hands gripped the railings to each side, trapping him in the corner. His eyes snapped to the blue dots over the doors and his heart seized in his chest—they were only on floor 35, for the elevator to have slowed so much they would’ve needed to be on the 20th floor minimum to stop on the 1st floor at the current rate of deceleration.

JARVIS was back in full control, carefully dropping their speed until it came to a complete stop on the 12th floor. Penny’s body locked up like she’d gone into rigor mortis when it started to ascend again, her breathing coming in frantic pants. It was going up at the usual clip and Peter realized that every second it took made his heart beat faster in his chest. He was light headed, dread setting in.

Tony had told him multiple times that anticipation was the real punishment sometimes, the overwhelming paranoia and fear and desolation. His thoughts immediately began to spiral and his knees weakened slightly.

“When it stops you stay in here,” Penny’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Wha—”

“Shut your mouth!” She screamed, once again defaulting to Hebrew, “Be quiet. Do as I say. Do. Not. Move.”

“Penina—”

“Stop.”

Peter swallowed down a sob, head dropping to rest on her shoulder. The passing of floors was marked by a soft tone and between the two of them, they were barely able to remain standing when the silence between beeps started to lengthen. Penny’s grip on the railing slipped, her hands sweaty from sheer panic, her knees just barely holding up the extra weight. His arm was still slung around her waist, but his hold was too slack to keep her up despite the strength with which he clenched her shirt in his fist.

“Stay.” Penny managed to choke the order out just seconds before the door opened, a panicked sound escaping her lips when she realized her legs weren’t moving the way she needed them to.

It just amped the anticipation, Penny’s brief but agonizing hesitation before she forced her limbs to react and lead her out of the elevator. He nearly gagged on a sob, watching as she put her hands up and out to her sides, just slightly. Penny was vibrating with fear, her fingers almost blurry from a distance.

“P-Please—” Peter couldn’t see them, they must’ve been standing to the side of the doors, in front of the second elevator, “it’s m-my fault.”

“No—!” He launched himself forward, only for his sister to turn faster than he thought she could move.

Penny had never laid a violent hand on him, but the way she shoved him back into the elevator bordered on it, “SHUT UP!”

He’d never noticed the way Penny’s voice cracked when she screamed before. It had always been there, he was aware in the back of his mind, but he’d never really noticed. It hurt in a special way, when the bottom seemed to fall out of her words until she could rally through the rasp. Penny had been smoking some combination of weed and cigarettes for almost as long as he could remember—had she been fourteen or fifteen? He was only eight, maybe nine at the time. Did her voice crack like that before?

His thoughts spiraled once again while Penny turned forward again, putting herself between his seated self and the three men’s towering forms, “I’m his guardian. His actions fall on me, not him. I should’ve stopped him, I shouldn’t—if I had stayed inside t-to wait, it wouldn’t have—”

“Babydoll,” Steve sighed, shifting to step closer but stopping short when a full body cringe racked her form and her hands lifted to cover her face, just for a second before she clasped them tightly in front of her chest, “Penny…”

“You—you can just… p-punish me, okay?” Her voice was shaking as badly as her body, hitching every few words and she shuddered violently for a moment before lowering herself onto her knees, “H-He’s just a k-kid, I should’ve—”

“Okay, precious, come here,” Tony scooped her up under her arms, bringing her back to her feet before tucking her into his chest, “I know that this is just what you do. It’s a compulsion, trying to take the blame like this? But we both know nothing you did could’ve stopped him. He grabbed you and ran before Steve could get to you, sweetheart.”

“N-No, I—”

“We had audio and video in the elevator the whole time, doll,” Steve cut her off gently, “JARVIS was translating to Tony’s phone. We know what you said, and we know what he said.”

A choked sob escaped Penny and her fingers dug violently into Tony’s old t-shirt, her nails scratching him through the fabric. Bucky immediately darted forward and snatched her out of Tony’s arms, spinning them around until Peter couldn’t see her around the bulk of his body. It had been preventative—if they got to her before she did damage, there didn’t have to be a punishment. He could see her legs kicking and the sound of her crying but not much else.

“Peter,” his attention snapped to Tony, who’d stepped directly in front of him, “we’re going to go inside, everyone is going to calm down, and we’re going to have a good night. Do you understand?”

His breath froze in his chest for just a moment, whooshing out when the man crouched to look him dead in the eye, “are you willing to calm down so that you can be with Penny this evening?”

It took him a half second longer than he intended to nod, murmuring a quiet response. He was rewarded by a small smile and Tony helping him up, the older man immediately wrapping an arm around his waist once he was on his feet.

There wouldn’t be any opportunity for escape, of course, whether Tony was physically holding him or not. He’d give the kid one thing: he never thought Peter would get so close. Never thought Peter could get so close. He wondered how long he’d been working on that particular piece of tech—something that overrode JARVIS’s response to his orders. It only worked in the one elevator and it was corrected within two minutes of the breach, but it was still incredibly impressive. Especially considering Tony had been very careful not to provide him with any parts or pieces that could facilitate a runaway attempt.

Inside the apartment, Bucky was still cradling Penny tightly to his chest but now in the same position that they’d seen on the security camera. Tony could feel Peter tremble against his side at the sight, his chest jumping with a suppressed sob. There were a pair of kittens worming their way around Bucky’s ankle, the little white one particularly loud in its’ efforts to be noticed.

“It gets upset when Penny’s upset,” Steve stated from behind, startling Peter for just a moment when he walked around the pair and towards the chair, “here you go, doll.”

The super soldier scooped the tiny cat into his hand and deposited it right against the exposed crook of Penny’s neck before swiping the orange one up as well, setting it on the arm of the couch a few feet away.

“That one doesn’t?” Tony questioned, guiding them over to the couch and pressing Peter sit before sitting next to him.

“It doesn’t like to be touched as much,” the blond answered, already walking towards the dining room again, “food should be up soon.”

Tony knew that Steve was doing his best to distance himself at the moment, lest he lose his temper on Peter. He was pissed, practically steaming in irritation and honestly Tony appreciated the lengths he was going to. The orange cat let out a squeaky meow from where it sat, looking hesitant to be on the same surface as other people. It very carefully hopped from the arm of the couch to a seat cushion, toeing the very edge before backing away nervously.

“Here, I’ll put you down,” Peter murmured quietly, reaching over and carefully picking the kitten up, relieved when it didn’t protest and sat it on the ground gently.

“Do you need a cat too, baby?” Tony nosed his temple gently before pressing a kiss there, watching Peter smile when the orange cat went up onto its back legs to knead its little paws against his ankle.

The teenager reached over and picked the kitten back up when it continued to meow and scratch at him, obviously looking for attention. As soon as it was on his lap it started to squirm, but only until his hands weren’t wrapped around it. The little thing was sniffing around him curiously, stumbling across his lap on unsteady paws.

A tone sounded near the front door, alerting them that the food had arrived. Steve was quick to respond but Penny didn’t even shift and Peter certainly didn’t look much inclined to move while the kitten was, adorably and painfully, clawing its way up the front of his shirt.

“How about we eat around the coffee table,” Steve suggested as he walked into the living room with two large, brown paper bags full of food, having evidently read Tony’s mind, “Tone, can you get everything out? I’ll go grab plates.”

Tony started absently digging through the bags and pulling out the styrofoam containers. He was definitely checking what was in everything and stacking it around the table depending on who’d be eating what, but his eyes were mostly locked on Peter. The kitten had made its way up to his shoulder and was furiously rubbing its face against his cheek, purring up a storm.

“It usually only lets Penny touch it,” Bucky’s voice rumbled from the armchair, his eyes also focused on Peter and the cat while his hands absently roved over Penny’s still form, “even then not for long.”

“Maybe it has discerning taste,” Tony reached out and tried to scratch it under the chin, only to jerk back when it lashed out with sharp little kitten claws, “exquisite tastes, I guess.”

“It’s cute but those claws are sharp as hell,” Steve returned with plates and silverware, two six packs balanced on top and a few bottles of soda tucked under his arm, “Bucky would be covered in scars if we didn’t heal.”

“I was trying to play with it, I didn’t think it would turn into a psycho killer and go for the jugular.”

“Says the psycho killer who regularly goes for the jugular,” Tony muttered under his breath, making Steve and Bucky both snort in amusement while Peter wondered if an actual ice cube going down his spine could make more goosebumps than that statement, “why not get it declawed?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged looks, both cautiously glancing towards where Penny’s face was tucked into the brunet’s neck, “it’s not—”

“Declawing a cat is cruel,” Penny’s voice was watery and angry, “they’ll be in pain for the rest of their lives. You want them to stop scratching but all it does is make them angry and mean and they’ll spend the rest of their lives hating you. Making your life as miserable as possible until you give up and either euthanize them or give them away. It’s what you get for ruining their fucking lives.”

#steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!fic #dead dove do not eat #let's review chapter 21 #let's review

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years

Text

I Loved Him... Once - CH 5

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining, its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5

"Anything?" Dave asked as they joined the rest of the team in the conference room.

Aaron shook his head, "No DNA or any other evidence left behind, same as the others. How is the geographical profile coming along?"

Dave walked over to the white board with Aaron and Spencer. There were four red pins stuck into the map with a series of circles, all coming together in the center. “We've narrowed it down to this area here,” Dave pointed to the point where the circles connected, “his comfort zone isn't very large, but it's still far too large to just go around knocking on doors.”

“Do we have any form of a profile?” JJ walked over, standing beside Spencer with her arms crossed, “Aside from knowing that he's organized, revenge driven, and possibly done with his list, we don't have much more to go on.”

“Unfortunately not,” Aaron walked over to the table and caught Derek's attention, “call Garcia, put her on speaker.”

He dialed, placed his phone on the table, and after a few rings she answered, “Magical mistress of pleasure, what services can I offer you today?”

“Baby girl,” Derek crooned, “behave, you're on speaker.”

“Oh you're no fun!” She whined, but then asked, “What can I help you guys with?”

Aaron leaned on both hands on the table and towards the phone, “Have you found anything that connects our victims, Garcia?”

“Still nothing, oh fearless leader.” They all sighed. “I mean, they lived in the same city, sure, but none of them even went to the same grocery store or gas station. They seem to be just random victims. But that's weird right? I’m not a profiler, but there's usually always something that connects the victims and murders somehow, right?”

“Yeah, you're right, baby girl,” Derek ran a tired hand down his face and slapped it down on the table, “we'll call you back if we have anything that can help you in your digging.”

“Right, tahtah for now my beautiful flowers-”

“Garcia, wait.” Aaron stopped her before she could leave.

“Present, Sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

Aaron took a moment to look over to the still very quiet Spencer. He was still standing at the back of the room by the white board, hands in his pockets, and eyes fixed on Aaron. And he could tell just by the look in his eyes, Spencer knew what he was about to say, so he gave Aaron a barely noticeable nod before he turned back to the phone. “Yes, actually. I'd like you to speak with Reid about our last victim. He might be able to give you more insight that could help with your searching.”

“Why's that, Sir?”

“Because I knew him.”

Everyone fell silent, including Garcia, to the point where Aaron wasn't sure if they had lost their connection. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

Spencer didn't reply, just put his head down, so Aaron spoke, “I'd like Reid to tell you as much as he can about him and maybe we can find a missing link there.”

“Is… is he okay to do that? Losing someone is never easy, and if he's not ready to talk about him then I’m sure I can do this myself, I mean, I don't want to make Spencer uncomfortable or upset anymore then I’m sure he already is, Sir, and I-”

“Garcia,” Spencer cut in as he took a few steps closer to the table, stopping her mini rant, “it’s fine.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? I mean, really, really sure? Cuz I can dig my heels in and wave my magic wand and you know I will eventually find the things that people do not want me to find.”

“I'm sure,” he smiled a bit, it was nice to have someone looking out for his feelings, “I'll tell you everything I know.”

“Okay…” She breathed into the phone, “Okay, whenever you're ready.”

Spencer took a breath and looked around the room. Suddenly all eyes were on him, and as much as he loved his team, his family, he wasn't sure he was ready for an audience. It was one thing to talk to Aaron, and another to talk to Garcia to help the case along, but in front of everyone all at once…

“Give us a moment, Garcia,” Aaron stood and motioned for Spencer to come with him, and made his way towards the door, “I'm going to take Reid into another room, I'll call you from my cell when we're settled,” and they were gone.

“What do you think that's all about?” Derek asked, brows furrowed and a hint of worry in his voice. “Is there something we can’t know? Is the kid caught up in something here?”

“Lover, I'm sure it's fine,” Garcia was still on the line, “talking about these things isn't easy, you know, maybe Hotch just wanted to give Reid some space.”

“You don't think he's giving him a hard time do you?”

“I think you're going in the wrong direction,” Dave moved to sit beside Derek, a small smirk playing on his lips, “I’m certain this doesn't have anything to do with Aaron giving Reid a hard time. Just let them play this out.”

“Play what out?” Derek raised a brow and looked around the room, finding nothing but more confused and concerned faces. “What's going on?”

“More than you know, kid.” And David just left it at that, but of course Derek was not satisfied with that vague answer.

“That's our man calling on the other line,” Garcia said, getting Derek's attention again, “gotta go, lover. I'll make sure he's good, promise.” And she was gone, leaving Derek to think through what could possibly be going on in the other room, and worrying about Spencer alone with their boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer entered a smaller room on the other side of the station with Aaron, who closed the door behind them and shut the blinds. He gestured for Spencer to sit at the table, pulling out his phone and placing it in front of him, “I know this is going to be hard,” he began, standing beside Spencer, “but I want you to tell Garcia as much as you can about Eric. Start from the beginning, where you both went to school, anything you know prior to your meeting, and as much as you can about his personal life. Maybe something you say can help Garcia find something to help us catch a break in this case.”

He nodded, looking down at the phone and watching as Aaron dialed her number. “I'll give you some privacy.”

He turned to leave, but Spencer reached out quickly and grabbed his arm to stop him, “I'd rather you stayed… if you don't mind.”

“Of course.” He turned and sat back down and Spencer immediately moved his hands from Aaron’s arm to hold his hand, pulling it over into his lap to play with his fingers again. It was becoming somewhat of a comfort for Spencer, and Aaron wasn't going to stop him.

The phone rang a few more times then before, and the bowling ball in his stomach seemed to sink further and heavier as they waited for her to finally answer, “I’m here.” Her soft voice soothed Spencer a little. “Are you ready, Reid?”

“Yeah, I'm ready,” he squeezed Aaron’s hand as he prepared himself, “I'll just start from the beginning then.”

“Yeah, honey, yeah. You just… you start wherever you feel comfortable.”

He took a few calming breaths, holding Aaron’s hand even tighter, then started, “His name was Eric Watts, we met at Caltech. I was working on my first doctorate and he was a third year math student. I don't know much about his past, except that he was an only child and was orphaned at the age of six. His parents died in a car accident and he had no other family, so he was filtered through the foster system until he was eighteen.”

“Good, good, this is good. Keep going if you can.”

“We both spent a few more years in university after we first met, then I got an offer from the BAU and Eric got a job offer in California, at some financial company, but I don't know the name, I… I never asked….” He trailed off.

“You okay? And you're doing great by the way.”

“I’m okay, I just,” he trailed off again, thinking back on everything he knew about Eric, which now that he was put on the spot about it wasnt really much, “now that I'm thinking about it, I don't really know too much about Eric's personal life. We never really spoke about stuff like that.”

“That's okay, whatever you can’t tell me I'm sure I can fill in the rest. Is there anything else?”

He thought back, “I know he was never married, no kids, no other family. He's never been in any kind of trouble, worked the same job since we graduated, I… I don't know how he could have possibly gotten himself into something like this.”

“I promise you I will do everything I can to figure this out, Reid.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” he sniffled, using his free hand to wipe at the tears that had snuck up on him, “if I think of anything else that might help, I'll call you.”

“Alright, let me go work my magic. Warrior goddess, out.”

They sat there for a while, Spencer still holding Aaron’s hand until he was able to calm himself back down, and Aaron let him take as much time as he needed. Eventually he stood, pulling Aaron up with him and towards the door. “We should probably try and get a profile together, at least something to help the Sheriff and his officers in their search.”

“If you're ready.”

He stopped at the door and turned back to Aaron. He pulled him into another crushing hug, holding him as close as he could for as long as he could, reveling in the feeling of Aaron’s hands moving up and down his back, before he pulled back, “Now I'm ready. Let's go give a profile.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The officers sat in front of them while the agents occupied the front of the room. This used to be something Spencer hated. Standing in front of people, other officers, and giving a profile. But now he enjoyed it, he enjoyed sharing his knowledge with the officers and detectives so that they could bring down the unsubs together.

His team mates around him all said their parts, then it was his turn. And this profile, if any, meant more than any of the others. They had to get this right, they had to find and take down this unsub.

He shifted where he sat on one of the tables, and leaned forwards a little as he spoke to the officers, "We believe this unsub to be extremely organized, highly intelligent, and on a path of revenge. They are not delusional however, but rather extremely focused and mission oriented. If you come face to face with this unsub it is very unlikely you will be able to talk him down, and more likely that you will become his next victim."

"We suggest if you do meet this unsub to please take cover where you can and call us for backup," Aaron came to stand directly beside Spencer, leaning his hand on the table beside his leg, providing him a small amount of comfort through the light touch. "And be advised that if cornered, this unsub will become extremely aggressive, even more so than he already is. Please, proceed with caution and if you find anything call us immediately. Good luck."

The officers filled out, ready and armed now with a profile to help them catch this killer. Derek came in just as the officers were leaving, and waved them all back into the conference room.

Once inside he closed the door and motioned to the phone in the middle of the table, "Hey, baby girl, they're all here, go ahead."

"So I was doing some deep diving through the lives of our victims and… I found something, a few something's actually."

"About Eric?" Spencer moved closer, sitting in a chair.

"Oh, honey," she began, her voice soft and quiet again, "I don't… I don't think you should hear this."

"I… I have to."

"Reid, you should have good memories of your friend. I don't think you need to hear this."

"I'm fine, Garcia. I need to hear this." He snapped a little, moving closer to the table.

"If you're sure…" She trailed off, giving him a second to think and change his mind, but when she was met with silence she took that for the answer it was. "Okay then. So, I was emailed a copy of the newest coroner's report, as well as the sheriff's report on his findings and, well, something didn't add up."

Everyone waited, still silent, but all eyes were on Spencer.

"Reid, you told me that his name was Eric Watts, but the report that the sheriff sent me has the name Mason Maddox on the file. There was a copy of the ID that the sheriff found through the database when the coroner scanned his prints. And so when I went deep dive I discovered that Eric Watts doesn't actually exist."

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the phone on the table, taking a seat, "Garcia, I've known him for years. Eric Watts very much does exist."

"Honey, I'm telling you, he doesn't. His real name is Mason Maddox, and Eric Watts was a fake identity he made to try and cover up a very dark past."

"That's.. that's impossible. I've known him since university, he was twenty-one when we met, are you telling me he's been lying to me this whole time?"

"Yes, Reid, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"I… he can't…" He leaned forward, placing his head in his hands and covering his face as she went on.

"When I dug into his past, not his past as Eric but his past as Mason, before he met you sweetie he was into a lot of very bad things. He even spent five years in prison."

"Baby, how could he have spent five years in prison before meeting Spencer," Derek asked, clearly doing the math in his head, "he would have been under age when he was convicted."

"Yeah, he lied about his age too. He lied about everything."

"What did he serve the five years for?" Emily joined in now, seeing Spencer was too far gone at this moment to even think about asking questions.

"When he was younger he had a myriad of charges that were eventually all dropped. Breaking and entering, petty theft, and then all of a sudden he jumped right on up into assault with a weapon."

"What happened?" JJ asked this time.

"He nearly killed the guy, said he did it out of self defense but there was never any evidence to prove so. But he served his five years with no issues, not even one night in solitary. Then suddenly Mason Maddox just drops off the face of the Earth and that's when Eric Watts appears. With his new identity he got a job, moved to California, enrolled in school, and that's when he met you, Reid. But… there's more."

Aaron stepped forward then, placing a subtle soothing hand on Spencer's back where no one could see and asked, "What else, Garcia?"

"Your other victims, they aren't who their ID's say they are either. Who we originally thought were Karl Jennings, Adam Knoxs, and Joe Marsden, are actually Trevor O'Connell, Hayden Marletto, and Reese Runge. And when I searched the pasts of the real victims, I discovered that they actually are all connected.”

“Prison?” Emily assumed.

“Bingo, my fair maiden. All of them, including who we now know to be Mason Maddox, were in the same prison together over the same five year period, two of them even sharing a cell.”

“Did the other two share a cell with anyone, baby girl?”

“Yes, Trevor and Hayden shared a cell with each other, Reese shared with someone named George Yurish, and Mason shared with a one Tyler Prince.”

“What were the two cell mates in for, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“Already on it, Sir.” They could hear her fingers furiously typing as she searched for the answer to his question. “George was in for arson and Tyler for, oh… multiple counts of murder. Apparently he was a part of one of the worst gangs in California, was a suspect in various different felonies, and was soon after caught red handed by California police dumping a body off the pier at night. After investigation they managed to connect him to at least three other murders. He was released from prison a month ago, which was four days before the first murder of Trevor O’connell.”

“He sounds like our guy. Got out and the first thing on his mind was revenge,” JJ added, “but why? What did the other four victims do to him that caused this much rage?”

Derek nodded along with JJ then asked, “What were the other victims in for?”

“Money laundering, fraud, and theft. Nothing even close to murder, so why did this guy kill his friends from prison?”

“None of this makes any sense,” Derek shook his head, “five guys meet in prison, one guy gets out years later and kills them all, and none of the victims even come close to matching the level of aggression needed to have been involved with a murderer. Why all of a sudden go after these men?"

“Garcia, send us the addresses of all the victims and Tyler Prince. Maybe our missing answers will be waiting for us there,” then he turned to the rest of the team and said, “Emily, JJ, you go to the houses of the first two victims, Derek and Rossi take the last two, Reid you're with me, were going to pay Tyler a visit.”

“The addresses are already sent to you, good luck and be safe my loves.”

The team started gathering their things to leave, but Aaron noticed that Spencer was still sitting at the table with his head down.

“Reid?” Aaron moved a little closer to his chair, but Spencer did not move, “We have to move, Reid.”

“I…” He finally looked up and stood abruptly, “I need a minute, excuse me.”

He quickly pushed through the rest of the team standing at the door watching with worried eyes, and practically ran out of the station. Derek grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started after him, but Aaron moved first this time, holding a hand up to Derek and stopping him in his tracks. He then headed out almost as fast as Spencer and followed his path around the side of the building.

Derek stood in the middle of the conference room, looking both a little hurt and angered that Aaron had stopped him the way he had. He cared about Spencer and was worried that not only was this case hitting him hard, but also that Aaron was making it worse. “What the hell was that?!”

“Derek, don't worry so much-”

“Don't worry so much?! Rossi,” He threw his hands up in frustration, getting angrier by the second, “not only am I worried about Reid because he just lost a friend and found out that he has been lied to for years by someone he considered close, but if you haven't noticed, since we found out he knew the victim, Hotch has not left his side for more than ten seconds. He keeps hovering over him, watching him, following him, he even came to our room last night to talk to Reid. He can still do his job, Rossi! I know he lost a friend and that’s hard, but he can still see this case through and catch this son of a bitch!”

David held his hands up in a calming motion with a small smile on his face, “Derek, easy, this is not what you think.”

“Then what is it?!”

“Reid can still do his job, we all know that. And as for Aaron, he knows that too, more than anyone. So just let this be, alright. Reid is fine and I promise you Aaron is not giving him a hard time.”

Derek eyed him, obviously still not convinced, “Yeah, well, I'm gonna keep my eye on that anyway,” and then he left the room to head out on his assignment.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron ran around the side of the building where he had seen Spencer go, and sure enough he found him there looking as miserable as he had expected. He stopped short of him, watching him violently rub the palms of his hands into his eyes, before slowly walking over.

"Reid?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, wiping his eyes before answering, "I'm fine."

"Reid, you're not," he placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him around. Now face to face he could see how red his eyes were, a little wet, and he didn't know if he could do anything to make it better. "Sit this one out, please, I hate seeing you like this."

"Hotch, I'm fine, I told you," he sighed, hard and long, "but I don't think I'm fine enough to go to the apartment of the man who might have killed Eric. If I could I'd… I'd like to go to Eric's instead, see what I can do there to help figure this out."

"Yeah, yeah of course," he nodded, placing his other hand on Reid's shoulder, "I'll switch you out with Rossi. And if you need anything while you're there, do not hesitate to call me. Anything.”

Spencer just nodded, then suddenly the weight of Aaron’s hands on his shoulders had become hypersensitive to him. His arms itched to wrap around what was now becoming Aaron’s familiar frame against his, and his fingers itched to dig into the fabric of the back of his jacket. He took a small, shuffling step forwards and said, “There is one thing-”

And before Spencer could even say anything more, Aaron was already closing the gap and pulling Spencer into his chest. He allowed them to stay like that for a few long minutes, since the tree line in the garden beside the station provided them cover from anyone who might be walking by. And Spencer did dig his fingers into Aaron’s jacket, and buried his face in his neck, breathing in his cologne and letting the scent slowly calm him. He also let himself fall into the soothing feeling of Aaron's hand at the small of his back, and the other rubbing his fingers into the nape of his neck, massaging his stress away.

Aaron let him cling to him until Spencer felt he was ready and pulled back muttering a quiet, “Thanks.'' Aaron was more than happy to be there for him anytime he needed, and he let him know as much before leading them out to the cars, informing David of the change and watching Spencer leave with Derek. He had wanted to keep Spencer as close as possible, but if this was what he needed right now, then he would make sure to be there for him as soon as they were finished and back at the hotel. But for now, he had to focus and catch this bastard before he could do any more harm, and bring Spencer the closure he deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this is so late, but here is the next chapter as promised XDAnd I know I said there would be another Spencer and Aaron moment, and there is a small one, but the one I was actually talking about will be in the next chapter. This chapter was getting too long and I had to split it into two parts.

Also, the reason this is so late is because I was accepted into university today! And it only took me ten years after graduating high school, but I am finally here! And I didn't think I would even get in. I applied on a last minute whim and the program is super competitive, but I got it! So I spent a lot of my day today getting some things ready for that. And that being said, I might change this from a twice a week posting schedule to a once a week posting. That'll give me a little more time when school starts up in a few weeks to make sure I have updates ready for you guys.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you guys think <3

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spookyold-saintjm · 4 years

Text

Confession

[gif: @h0rr0rpancake]

Mandalorian x female reader

Part of the Pilot series [Masterlist]

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, canon-typical violence, it’s steamy but it’s not smut (yet) so chill.

Word Count: 3,808

Surprise! I was able to finish this one (number SIX?!) sooner than I thought, so here you go!

If you’re seeing my work for the first time: hi! You don't necessarily have to read the other parts of this series for this one to make sense; I write each new installment as something that can be enjoyed as a stand-alone or as part of the whole. Reading the others will give you bits and pieces of context that (hopefully) make each new part more impactful, but there’s no need to do so if you don’t want.

This is my longest work yet so...phew. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! A lil ol’ reblog would mean the world to me, if you want. x

—

You had never thought it was something you’d see again. At least, not if it were done by your own hands.

Fragments of a one-man ship crumbled and burned and drifted down and out through infinite space. Your hands trembled like leaves against the Crest’s controls, and a cold sweat trickled down the side of your head as you stared numbly at the destruction you had just created. The life you had taken.

You heard the familiar footsteps of the Mandalorian approaching from behind you, and snapped back into survival mode. This wasn’t just about you.

You shakily turned toward the panel on your left, typing in codes to redirect your flight path to the nearest safe planet you could think of. The ship needed repairs; you needed to land as soon as possible. Mando was behind you just as you swerved the ship to a hard right and away from the sight of the debris. Away from choice you’d had to make to ensure your safety. And theirs.

You vaguely remembered him going to get the child immediately after you’d fired the fatal shot; somehow, despite the rocking and frantic turning of the ship, that sound had been what had awoken and startled the tiny being that had been resting in his carrier in another part of the ship. He was now tucked into Mando’s arm, ears perked in curiosity.

The amount of time that had passed up to that point was unclear to you; you’d kept a clear mind, focused, each move intentional and calculated as you attempted to get the attacking ship off your tail. It was when you realized that they weren’t going to give up on their pursuit, that they were intent to take you down, that you knew what you had to do. And you’d done it, but not without the dull, numbing feeling of acknowledging death quickly beginning to set in, despite the countless hours of training you’d once been through to teach your mind otherwise.

You had told yourself you weren’t going to do it again. And yet, here you were.

“I’ve changed our course.” You spoke quietly, quickly, before Mando could ask if you were okay. It was a question you didn’t want to answer. “We need to land soon. Damage.”

Mando said nothing, only watched your still-trembling hands attempt to restore the ship to full operation so that you could more quickly reach your new destination.

“S-sorry,” you added, immediately wishing you could take back the words that were already spilling from your lips. “I—I wasn’t—it’s been a long time."

He listened, letting you speak the words that were making your stomach turn the longer you held them inside. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to tell you to calm down. Only listened. It was something that you found yourself to silently appreciate as you started to steady yourself, your breaths regulating, your hands still.

He had seated himself in the co-pilot chair behind you, the child quiet in his lap. “Thank you.” he finally spoke. It was the only thing he could think to say, but it was enough.

Without turning away from the viewport, you nodded slowly in grateful acknowledgment.

“They were after him, weren’t they?” you asked, your voice low. You already knew the answer, but to assure yourself that what you’d done was worth it…

“I think so. Yes.” Mando replied simply.

“Not Guild. Not now.” You added.

“No. Someone else.”

You had a feeling you both had the same suspicions, that word had spread about the Mandalorian taking down Moff Gideon and escaping with a bounty he’d very intensely sought after. A very valuable one.

Neither one of you said it aloud, but you knew. The running wasn’t over.

—

Hot. Why did this planet have to be so kriffing hot?

You reached to wipe sweat from your forehead as you meticulously worked away on the wiring you pulled from out of a panel near the bottom of the ship. The repairs weren’t necessarily difficult, but time-consuming. And costly. Maybe it was the heat on this planet getting to you, but you’d snapped at Mando at his slightest hesitation of the full repairs.

“This ship is a ticking bomb. I don’t fix her, I don’t fly her. She’s all yours."

You could have sworn you’d heard his teeth grinding beneath this helmet when he’d handed over the credits for the necessary parts.

You were still coming down from your mood when the Mandalorian returned to the hangar where you’d been permitted to leave the ship a couple hours later. The child was following, happily toddling along behind him, but nearly thudded straight into his boot when Mando abruptly halted in his tracks.

He saw as you stood from your crouched position by the ship, muttering light curses under your breath as you stepped over to search through the crate of tools provided in the hangar for the repairs you were currently addressing. A stray hair drifted down into your eyes from where you had tied it atop your head, desperate for any means to cool down, and you blew it away as you continued to dig through the crate. Your long-sleeved shirt was tied at your waist, leaving you in your sleeveless undershirt that, thanks to the heat causing everything to stick to your skin, wasn’t leaving much to anyone’s imagination...

Not that…not that he would imagine anything. No, the heat was just getting to him, too.

Probably.

You finally noticed his presence and looked up, shielding your eyes with a hand to look at him through the light of the setting suns glinting off his armor.

“Hey, shiny. Step out of the light. I’m going blind here.”

Once he remembered how to walk, Mando was standing by the open hatch of the Crest, telling the child to head inside out of the heat. He obeyed, but not before letting a long stare glide between the two of you.

You were faced the opposite direction from him, but you didn’t hesitate to whip your head around your shoulder to send him a hard glare of warning before he quickened his pace inside with a small giggle.

“What does he say to you?” Mando asked as he approached you. You shook your head as you pulled the tool you’d been looking for from the crate with a low hum. He knew well enough by now how you communicated with the child, although maybe he didn’t quite understand the process of it. Some things were better to just silently accept. And this seemed to be one of them.

“You know…kid stuff,” you shrugged, though the fluttering in your stomach when Mando reached your side easily betrayed that. You walked over to the panel you’d been working on, and used the tool you’d retrieved to finish connecting and securing the last couple wires before locking and screwing the panel back into place.

“Well, we’re getting there.” You announced as you came from underneath the ship again. You dusted off your hands onto your thighs, and looked to Mando with a sigh. “Stabilizer still needs some work, and I have to re-align the left thruster. Need to double check the fuel driver. Might as well knock out the cosmetic work too if we’re going to be here for a few days.” You leaned to rub at a deep scratch in the thick metal of the Crest as you spoke. “Any luck on your end?”

“We found lodging. Doesn’t seem like we’ll be bothered.” Mando replied, already giving up on trying to make sense of the information you’d just given him. You knew that the mechanical side of things wasn’t really his area, so you weren’t at all surprised at his lack of questioning. Laughable as it may have been to you.

“Good,” you replied. “I hate being bothered.”

Mando folded his arms over his chest as he watched you type some final information regarding the repairs into the datapad before looking to him with a faint grin.

“Alright, then. If everything’s settled…I need a drink.”

—

With one arm propped against the bar, you knocked back the next shot of glowing orange liquid passed your way.

You weren’t quite sure what it was, but Maker, did it burn in the best way.

You swiped a slightly larger glass of dark brown liquid you’d requested off of the counter and turned to look for your companion for maybe the twentieth time that night.

You finally saw him, the rough silhouette of the Mandalorian making his way toward you.

Taking deliberate steps, you wandered over to meet him, the music in the room so gods-damned fantastic that you nearly forgot what you were doing until you nearly bumped into him.

You grinned up at him and shoved the glass in his direction. “Got you something!”

“I’m alright.” He knew you were beyond the point of him trying to explain to you that even if he did want a drink, he couldn’t drink it. For obvious reasons.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” Mando stared blankly at you as you pressed the glass to your lips and tipped back your head, finishing the entire thing in one go. You let out a heavy sigh of contentment as you placed the glass, now empty, down onto the nearest table.

He had agreed to stay back with the child as you’d gone to have a couple drinks at a nearby to unwind. When an hour and a half had passed and you hadn’t returned, he put the kid down to sleep and came to check in on you, a dull surge of worry rushing through him. It wasn’t entirely impossible that you’d all been followed onto this planet...

But instead he found you perfectly content, clearly more than a “couple” drinks in.

A tall, dark haired human female had wandered over, wrapping her arm low around your waist as they gazed eagerly at Mando.

“Oh! This your boyfriend or something?” The woman winked at him with a wide grin before she turned back to curiously tilt her head at you with her blue-painted, pursed lips. “Didn’t see you as the...boyfriend type, too.”

She turned back to Mando and reached a hand upward, a thin finger lazily reaching to trace the visor of his helmet. “What’s he look like under—"

Before she got the chance, you had her pressed face-first onto a table, that same hand pinned behind her back.

“Don’t. Touch. The helmet.” You spat down at her, before sending her off back in the direction she’d come from when you’d decided to let her go.

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure he was breathing.

“Handsy-ass bitch,” you muttered, turning back towards Mando with a shrug. “Sorry.”

He was still internally reeling from everything he’d just had to process in that matter of seconds, but shook himself out of it once he saw you faintly sway on your feet.

“We need to get back.” He said, his tone bordering that of an order. “I left the kid."

Your head snapped back upward toward him. “You left the—what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you gasped, and frantically tapped on the beskar covering his shoulders, urging him to turn around to the door. “We have to go.”

You both made it roughly five steps when he had to catch you from nearly stumbling to the floor. You walked the remainder of the way with hands clasped onto Mando’s arm to keep you steady.

You didn’t really need to, though. At least, that’s what you’d muttered under your breath on the walk back to where you were staying for the night. You were just being nice and accepting his help.

Mando let out a long sigh as you followed him inside.

Fortunately for the three of you, there were small rooms available for travelers to stay near the hangar, whether it be for time to make repairs to ships or to find temporary work until one could get off-world again. Mando, with the child tucked in his arm, had to quickly clarify that he would need two beds—in fact, two separate bedrooms—when he’d explained the requirements for a place to stay. Much to the owner’s amusement.

“Eh, don’t worry about it, guy. She’ll get over whatever you did to piss her off. They always do,” he had stated when he’d handed over the access card for the door.

Mando was silently thankful you hadn’t been there to hear the exchange, because even with you nowhere around he felt the distinct urge to throw himself into a sarlacc pit.

Your first instinct once you were inside, despite the haziness in your mind, was to check on the kid. He wore a peaceful contentment on his face as his slept in the carrier. Perhaps he, too, was relieved to be staying the night somewhere other than in an old bucket of a ship. Mando followed behind, a dull relief washing over him when he too saw that the child had been undisturbed during his short absence.

You spun around and glared up at him. “Do not leave him alone again.” You said, keeping your voice low. "For two hours or five minutes, I don’t care.”

He could have easily argued that maybe you were the reason he’d left him alone to begin with…but he was fairly certain that it wouldn’t be the best idea.

You had closed the door to the room you’d designated as yours seemingly before he could blink, coming out a while later, freshly showered in a new set of clothes. You still had that vague floating feeling as the effects alcohol continue to pulse steadily through your body, but you were at least coherent enough to walk on your own now.

The lighting in the room was dim, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, when you walked over to where Mando was tweaking the blaster he always carried with him at the small table in the room.

You plopped down in the seat across from him, hands rested under your chin, dark circles already formed under your eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked, after watching him in silence for a while.

If it hadn’t been for all the other ways you’d surprised him that evening, the question might have given him pause. “Go ahead."

You tilted your head. “I want to kiss you, Din Djarin.”

And his entire world froze.

“I know, I can’t.” You waved a hand dismissively toward him, your words still slightly slurring. “It’s the Way, or whatever. I get it. But stars, if I don’t just want to kiss you sometimes.”

“Stop.” His voice came out far quieter than he’d meant as he began to earnestly wipe away a spot on his blaster that didn’t exist. “You’re drunk.”

You shrugged. “It's when I’m the most honest.”

He practically dropped the blaster onto the table, much louder than he’d meant. Both of you immediately jerked your heads toward the sleeping child, who thankfully hadn’t stirred.

Mando lifted his head, finally looking back at you. It almost felt like some strange stand-off, this long, silent exchange between the two of you. What was he supposed to say to that? His thoughts weren’t lining up right in his head, not only because of your confession, but the fact that you’d used his name when he said it. You hadn’t dared to speak it again since the night you’d left Navarro. Not until now. And then, there was the matter of what exactly you had said...

You were torture. Absolute torture.

“Um,” You slowly rose from your seat, muttering curses to yourself in your head when you realized he wasn’t going to give you a reply. You pressed your palms flat against the table until the shadows of the room and Mando’s silhouette stopped wavering around you. “I’m gonna go."

You had turned to walk back to your private space for the night when the single light in the room switched off.

You nearly tripped over your feet as you halted, slowly turning back to what you guessed was Mando’s general direction.

“Hey, wait I can’t see anythi—"

You felt his presence in front of you just as your mind fully processed the thought.

You couldn’t see.

Your breathing suddenly felt heavy, dizziness threatening to overtake you again the longer you were stripped of your sight. The quiet in the room was nearly deafening.

Mando was moving, a familiar sound of shifting beskar finally breaking the silence. Your feet were heavy weights, holding you in place while you heard him set something onto the table behind him.

Another silence passed, and breathing became nearly impossible as the walls closed in around you. “Mando, I—“

“Okay.”

Every nerve in your body threatened to short-circuit at the sound of his voice. His voice.

He’d taken off his helmet. He was standing in front of you and he’d taken off his helmet.

“Is that really what you want?” he asked.

Oh, Maker, if he kept speaking you were going to pass out.

Little did you know, he wasn’t feeling all that different. It took his every last ounce of pure willpower to keep himself from wavering, from putting back on the helmet and turning around and hoping he could convince you that you’d been dreaming if you asked in the morning.

But you wouldn’t, couldn't forget this if you tried.

He took a step forward, a step closer to you, awaiting an answer. “Well?"

“T—to kiss you?" you nodded once, slowly, despite knowing he couldn’t see you. “I…yes.” You swallowed thickly, an attempt to raise your voice above a whisper. “Do…do you? Want to, I mean.” Stop talking stop talking stop talking...

Another rustling, and you felt his touch, his fingers rested beneath your chin. “Yes.”

You stood unmoving, other than the heavy rise and fall of your chest. His forehead rested against your own, the first contact of his bare skin to yours enough to send you through the roof. You could hear his own uneven breathing now as he leaned in, his pace achingly slow. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and your reflexively parted your lips in your wound-up anticipation…

And he kissed you.

His lips were feather-light and hesitant against yours, testing your acceptance to what was happening. You leaned into it, fully capturing his mouth with yours.

He tasted every bit the warrior, like blood and dirt mixed with something sweet and uniquely him, something that you could get drunk on, if you hadn’t been already.

The kiss was long, heavy. What had started out as something so light and timid quickly deepened into something else entirely, the instinctual need for contact that you’d both been deprived of for far too long rapidly taking over. What was once slow and steady soon turned messy, desperate, his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as you opened for him.

You’d snapped out of your shock and your hands were quick to press into his back to urge him closer to you before they wandered immediately up to his head.

Curls. The tiniest curls of hair sat atop his head and you wrapped one set of fingers in them while your other hand rubbed against the rough stubble on his face and slid along his neck and back up again. You wanted to remember every last inch of his face, how it felt. The sight of it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

At some point, you noticed your back was now pressed against a wall, the realization that he’d moved you there causing you to impulsively tug at his hair.

Some faint, low noise erupted from him and his fingers curled deeper into your waist in direct response and it set a fire deep within you that threatened to erupt at any moment.

More. You wanted more.

But he…was he trying to pull away from you?

You chased him, your lips reconnecting once he’d hardly leaned back. He indulged it a moment longer.

He, too, wanted more. Wanted it more than he knew he could possibly want anything.

But still he pulled back again, his hands moving to instead wrap around your arms to blindly pin you against the wall.

“Din—” you slurred, almost a plea. You reached up to move your hair away from your half-open eyes in a way that would have sent him to the floor if he’d been able to see it.

“I know,” he answered, his breath coming out in short bursts as he again rested his forehead against yours. “But not...like this. You’re still…"

He felt you nod against him before he could finish, despite the frustrated hum that crept from your lips.

“Okay,” you breathed. Your rested your palms against his chest, fingers curling against the armor there in a silent wish.

Mando leaned to press a soft, final kiss to your swollen lips before releasing his hold on you, both of you attempting to catch your breath as the room grew silent.

He was across the room again before you fully had the chance to miss his touch.

“You should sleep.” he stated, his voice again altered by the modulators of his helmet. There was now enough light for you to see rough shapes in the room, and despite how badly you wanted to turn away, you were looking back at him, standing, watching you.

You couldn’t help but sigh. Just like that, it was over. As if it had never happened at all.

“Yeah,” you muttered, the only answer you could pull from your throat as you turned back toward the room you had claimed as your own.You wandered inside, shut the door behind you with the blind press of a button, and immediately collapsed onto the bed. A real bed, but in that moment it felt as hard and unforgiving as if you were lying on the ground outside.

The knot in your chest and the fire set low in your stomach had yet to cease. Your eyes were wide open, but you were seeing nothing. You laid there, for several minutes or maybe hours, before eventually your exhausted body and the alcohol still drifting through your veins lulled you into a deep sleep.

And in the room beside you, Mando laid on his back, the beskar long stripped away. His hands rested at his sides, his eyes stuck to the low ceiling with no other thought than that of the choice he had just decided upon, the unspoken promise he made to himself, to you, as he, too, waited for sleep to overtake him.

—

tag list: @nadia-rosea @capsironunderoos @electricprincess888 @jamesdeerest @smolashie @iwatobiswimbros @backontheolebullshit @100kindsofblake @pandacookieowo @biolo-tea @baby-yodas-cool-aunt @heyitsjaybird @krtslxx @edgy-hufflepuff-bro @dirty-dancefl00r5 @fastidious-and-a-mess @officiallydeceased @sunkissed-winter @crushingonmando @ah-callie @wrinkled-daydream @holamor @din-and-juice @cosmo-bear @c0recl0wn @tedpicklez @miartian @disn3yfreak (please inbox me if you’d like to be added!)

#maybe this will tide my fellow mando hoes over for a bit #the pilot #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando x reader #mandalorian #din djarin says CONSENT #please let me know your thoughts!

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part four

summary: carmen actually steps foot inside her own house after discovering her daughter isn’t the only teenager living there. the hurricane hurtling toward the island matches the tempest in sailor’s heart as she finally gets some long-overdue words off her chest that her mom isn’t very happy to hear and two friends inch closer and closer to crossing that metaphorical line.

word count: 6.6k+ (oops, i did it again 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect, gambling addiction, child abandonment, being kicked out of home, fluff, swearing, underage drinking, flirting, having shitty dads, mentions of weed, star wars, and sailor’s unhealthy addiction to nutella, mention and direct quote of the percy jackson and the olympians series (again), subtle nod to new girl (i love seeing how many references i can make lmao)

a/n: first off, i just want to thank each and every one of you for your likes, reblogs, and especially your wonderful comments! they mean to world to me, seriously ❤ now, here comes the dramaaaaa! we get to dive into sailor’s complicated, turbulent relationship with her mother (sailor, like john b, has a very big, very real fear of being abandoned by people she loves because of her dad) before heading toward the canon timeline of the show. the quote about the sea near the beginning is from jaques cousteau, legendary french naval officer, marine explorer and filmmaker who co-created the aqua-lung and paved the way for modern scuba diving. he also pioneered marine conservation and discovered the wreck of the hmhs britannic, sister ship of the rms titanic! so overall, he was a pretty cool dude and i feel that he’d be a personal hero to ocean-loving sailor (maybe even kiara as well, considering her love of the environment/conservation).

unbetaed as usual so all mistakes are my b.

gif credit to @toesure (who has the most beautiful gifs, ngl)

~Masterlist~

part four: high tide

The sun’s just peeking its rays over the horizon, painting the deep blue sky the softest shades of pink and orange. Calm, steady waves lap against the shore and over Sailor’s bare feet as she stands alone on an empty and desolate beach, the only signs of life coming from the seagulls squawking overhead. The air is thick and sticky with early morning humidity, the type that makes it hard to breathe and frizzes the hell out of her wavy hair, and she can already feel moisture starting to collect on her skin.

Why’s she here again? She can’t remember a reason and come to think of it, she can’t remember exactly how she got here, either. Did she drive? She turns her back to the ocean and its entrancing pull to look for her truck but finds the surf shop is the only thing she can see clearly, the world surrounding it blurred in an incomprehensible mess of color; the sight should’ve caused anxiety to take root in her chest but somehow she finds herself unbothered, relaxed. Somehow, she feels at home.

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

Sailor’s head snaps to the left at the sound of a painfully familiar voice. A tall, redheaded man now stands in what was only a few seconds ago an empty space, smiling out over the water with the brilliant colors of the sky reflecting in his green eyes.

“Dad?”

Ryan doesn’t seem to hear the incredulous tone in her voice or even the fact that she spoke at all as he turns to face her and asks a question of his own, “It’s true, don’t you think?”

Of course she does. The sea has had her under its captivating, magnetic spell ever since she first laid eyes on it when she was a toddler, a baby, even. Her parents always said she wanted to spend every waking moment at the beach, combing the sand for shells and staring out at the water, imagining what new discoveries were waiting for her in its depths. Her mouth moves on it’s own as she replies, “You know I do.”

It’s not what she wants to say at all. She wants so badly to yell at him, let out her frustrations and hurt and pain ‘how dare you leave us’ ‘what did I do wrong’ ‘why haven’t you come back yet’ but finds that she can’t form the words. It’s like she’s watching a video, or maybe reliving a memory -oh. It feels like a memory because it is one, she recognizes with a start, of the week before he took off and abandoned them for the very first time, leaving behind a gaping, bleeding wound that neither Sailor nor her mother ever managed to properly stitch back together.

Ryan’s smile widens. “Always got your eyes on the horizon, Starfish. Just like your old man.”

Her heart clenches at the old, familiar nickname that she hasn’t heard in years, like she’s looking at a favorite pair of childhood shoes or an old t-shirt from a family vacation long past and realizing she doesn’t fit in them anymore, that she’s moved on, and surprisingly, it doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would.

“Come on,” Her father says and when he reaches out to her, Sailor finds herself reaching back with a much smaller, eight-year old sized hand that’s swallowed by Ryan’s larger, calloused palm. “Think you can go fifteen feet today?”

“Fifteen? I’m gonna go twenty!” She declares confidently in her most grown-up voice, giggling when her dad beams and hoists her little body up into his arms, the stubble on his face tickling her skin as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

He runs into the surf, tossing a laughing Sailor into the ocean when it’s waist deep before they wade out, further and further until the sandy floor drops away from their feet and they’re left treading water.

“Ready, Starfish?”

“Ready!”

The sun breaks over the horizon and casts its golden light on the pair, turning their hair an identical shade of fiery red just as they dive below. She has to work harder to keep up with her father’s longer strokes but she does it and reaches the bottom the same time he does; he smiles widely and reaches out to quickly cup her cheek, pride shining clearly in his eyes and she beams back before turning away to scan the floor for any worthy shells. Finding a knobbed whelk a few feet away, she swims over to grab it before pushing off toward the surface, Ryan following close behind. The sun becomes brighter and brighter the closer she gets and just when her head breaks through the waves-

Sailor wakes.

The early morning sun shines across her eyes through the curtains as she stares up at the surfboard above her bed, the very shelf were the whelk from that day still sits, proudly displayed with her other finds. Yawning, she runs her hands over her face and blinks away the last threads of sleep still clinging to her lashes, along with the memory of her dream. Moments like that with her father were rare. Ryan was a blast to be around when he was happy doing something he wanted to do, like diving for shells, hitting up the bowling alley for a few games, or taking his old, beat up boat out into the marsh to fish for hours on end (never something mundane as doing the dishes or folding the laundry, no, those were children’s jobs and being an only kid, those responsibilities fell to Sailor.). Moments like that were when she felt that -naively, foolishly- her dad was actually proud of her, that he wasn’t horribly inconvenienced by her having the audacity to be his daughter, to be born, that maybe he loved her as much as she loved him.

Cold from a sudden shiver that runs through her body, she rolls onto her side to seek out the best human space heater she knows but her arm only finds empty sheets lacking warmth, her hand reaching for someone who’s no longer there. She frowns and sits up, fingers automatically running through her sleep mussed waves in a semi-futile attempt to fix them into something less resembling a bird’s nest. A quick check of the phone she doesn’t remember plugging in to charge reveals its just before 7 in the morning and her confusion over her missing bedmate only grows; JJ’s rarely ever conscious before 9 AM at the absolute earliest and almost never by his own volition unless surfing’s involved. Even Binx is gone from his usual spot at the end of the bed, leaving her truly alone in the tiny room.

On the floor alongside his boots, the backpack she never noticed him having yesterday is still where he dropped it with its zipper open wide, while his phone rests next to hers on the bedside table and Sailor feels an almost embarrassing wave of relief wash over her knowing he’s still here, that he didn’t just up and disappear in the middle of the night, that he stayed (of all the times he’s come to her before, only once did he leave before dawn and, after she’d frantically tracked him down at John B’s place, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face at the thought of him returning to the lion’s den that he called home, he held her close and promised to never do it again.). She pulls herself out of bed and crosses the room to pull on a random hoodie from the closet before pocketing her phone and padding into the hall, the wooden floor cool under her bare feet.

A demanding meow comes from the kitchen followed immediately by a vexed, “Binx, my dude. For the last time, you can’t have this.” JJ’s bright laugh echoes throughout the room when Binx meows again, this one more insistent than the last and the redhead smiles, quietly shuffling forward to lean against the wall. He doesn’t notice, instead holding a finger to his lips as he shushes the cat sitting on the counter beside him, then turns back to whatever he’s doing. “Be quiet, dumbass! You don’t wanna wake your mom up, do you?”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like he might need my help.”

He startles at her teasing voice, nearly dropping the butter knife in his hand as she steps forward and scoops Binx into her arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Is mean old J not feeding you, Binxy? That just won’t do!”

He rolls his eyes but the grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward betrays his amusement as he says sarcastically, “Yeah, I’m the bad guy for not giving the brat Nutella. Great.”

With a laugh, Sailor gives the cat another loving scratch behind the ears before gently setting him on the floor and hoisting herself onto the counter beside JJ, her legs swinging back and forth and lightly brushing against his side. “So...you’re up early.” She says, watching him scrape the last bit of Nutella out of the jar and smear it on some toast, another piece already made on the plate at his elbow.

“Yeah, I woke up and couldn’t go back to bed.” He shrugs, tossing the knife in the sink and the empty container into the trash; her stomach does a little flip when he brings his hand to his mouth and licks away the chocolate left behind on his thumb, then continues, “Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quiet but that shithead over there wouldn’t shut up.”

He nods his chin in the direction of a lounging Binx, stretched out on the back of the couch in the sun and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. I-” She shrugs, too, and meets his blue-eyed gaze. “I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“Bad dream?” JJ asks, holding the plate of toast out to her and she takes a piece with a grateful smile as she replies, “I’d call it more of a bittersweet memory.”

They both fall into a comfortable silence while they eat until he suddenly asks another question around a mouthful of breakfast, “About your dad?”

Sailor freezes mid-chew, her father’s green eyes flicking away from her best friend’s face toward the floor as she swallows thickly, her free hand anxiously clenching the fabric of her shorts. After a long, pregnant pause in which they finish their food and he puts the dirty plate in the sink, she finally says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

She apologizes again, staring down at the floor and swinging her legs back and forth, her bare feet hitting the cabinet with dull thuds.

“For what?” His brow furrows in confusion while he takes a step forward to stand between her legs, one hand reaching to hook a finger under her chin and lift her head so he can look her in the eye, the other resting on her knee. “Seriously, help me out here ‘cause I’m confused as fuck.”

“Because I feel guilty, okay?” She starts, eyelids briefly closing as she takes a deep breath before snapping open again and continuing before he can interrupt, “Here I am, getting upset over a stupid dream I had about my gambling addict dad that ditched me when your dad does that,” -she points to his bruised ribs- “and this,” -her palm rests on his cheek, thumb skimming over his scabbed lip- “and God, I just-”

“Whoa, hold up there, Sail.” JJ cuts her off, his free hand joining the other in cupping her face, “Just because your dad never hit you doesn’t mean you don’t have something to be pissed about. He abandoned you, stole your mom’s money, and made you feel like shit! You have a right to be mad as fuck about it.”

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re not having a fucking competition about who has the shittiest dad,” -He smirks devilishly, brushing a wayward red curl off her forehead- “because they both suck major dick. End of story.”

In spite of herself, Sailor snickers as she winds her arms around his neck and pulls him close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder while his own arms slide around her waist. “We should start a club.” She jokes lightly and feels his snort of laughter against her ear in response.

“‘Shitty Dad Society,’” He declares proudly, “I call being president.”

“Well, I’m your VP! Binx’s our secretary- shit, I’ll be treasurer, too ‘cause I don’t trust you with any type of financial situation at all.”

He laughs again, hand tightening its grip on her waist and she smiles into his neck as he says, “That’s fair. We should make shirts.”

They settle into another comfortable silence after that, both more than happy to relax in the other’s arms and just be. It’s one of her favorite things about..whatever they are, the ease, the contentment, the familiarity felt when they’re together are sentiments she never, ever wants to lose and a thought, an exciting, dangerous thought pops into her head: what if he never has to leave?

“Come live with me.”

“...what?”

Oh, fuck, she just said that out loud, didn’t she? Brain, enter panic mode. The redhead abruptly pulls out of his embrace and buries her already blushing face into shaking hands, closing her eyes tight for good measure, stammering between her fingers, “Nothing, nothing! I said nothing!”

“Pretty sure you said something,” His hands encircle her wrists and gently pull them down to her lap. “And it wasn’t ‘nothing.’”

She stares down at their entwined fingers resting on her thighs, the backs of his hands deliriously warm against her exposed skin and grounding her to this (scary, exciting, vulnerable) moment, and blurts out in a rush, “I said, come live here. With me.”

JJ doesn’t speak, but the way his hands almost imperceptibly tighten their hold on hers -she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t already been looking- compels her to raise her head and meet his eyes; the indescribable depth of the ocean is behind his gaze, as well as the barest hint of pure, brazen hope, and it says everything his mouth won’t.

“Remember yesterday, when you said you don’t know how much more you can take?” She asks. At his tight nod, she weaves her fingers even more intricately with his and admits softly, “Well, I’m not sure how much more I can take, either.”

Sailor’s eyes sweep over the cuts on his face with all the gentleness of a lover, his lip first, followed by the one on his cheekbone before meeting his again. “I can’t...I can’t see you hurt like this anymore.”

Blue stares into green for an insurmountable stretch of time, long enough that she starts to think that she should’ve just kept her big mouth shut, until he finally whispers, “Seriously?”

“J, I’ve never been more serious about something in my entire life. I can’t let him do this to you anymore.” She finishes with a shrug, “My mom’s never here, anyway. It’d be, uh, really nice to not be alone all the time ‘cause as much as I love him, Binx doesn’t count.”

His eyes become stormy at that casual admission of loneliness for just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment before brightening into their natural blue, the same color of the sky on a clear day as he says simply, “Okay.”

“Seriously?” It’s her turn to ask it now and the smile that breaks over her face when he nods is one of unabashed relief; without thinking, she leans closer and presses her forehead to his. “Good.”

He smiles, too, and briefly lets his eyes fall shut at the contact as he jokes, “Just so you know, Flynn, I’m probably not gonna be the best roommate.”

“Please,” She giggles, freeing one of her hands to playfully push at his shoulder, “I live with the most spoiled, demanding cat in the world. I think I can handle you, Maybank.”

The teasing smirk on his face makes her heart beat a little faster. “We’ll see about that.”

Sailor decides to pretend she didn’t hear his loaded comment (she’s not quite ready to open up that particular can of worms just yet), instead pulling her phone from her hoodie pocket to check the time. “Alright, here’s the deal: in one,” -she glances at the time again because holy shit does she have the short-term memory of a fucking chimp- “two hours, we’re going shopping and, hey, don’t give me that look!” She laughs at the pained expression that crosses his face, “If you’re gonna live here, get ready to put in the work.”

JJ offers her a lazy salute with his free hand and she rolls her eyes, trying her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he says coyly (again, damn him!), “Yes, ma’am.”

“Until then, though,” The redhead continues, hopping off the counter to grab his hand and starts pulling him toward the hall to her room, “We have a book to read and you have some Greek to mispronounce.”

“Fuck, you’re bossy.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

It goes like this: for nearly three weeks, life for the pair is pretty damn good. The summer days pass the same as they had been, either spent lazing around with the rest of the pogues or working their variety of jobs -Sailor at the ice cream parlor, along with her weekly shell dives and the beginner surf classes she teaches for The Sandbar, JJ at the country club and doing whatever odd jobs he can find around the island- as June slowly bleeds into July. They find themselves doing everything together: shopping, cooking dinner, sharing her tiny room, and it’s so painfully domestic, so natural and so right that it hurts to wrap her head around it.

If their friends notice, none of them comment on it, even though she sees the looks sent their way whenever they both hop out of Sailor’s truck together (most are curtesy of eagle-eyed Kiara, but Pope and even the ever oblivious John B raise their eyebrows a few times). At night they continue to read through the Percy Jackson series, taking turns reading aloud each evening and for a short, blissful time, they let go of the burdens weighing heavy on their shoulders. For a while, everything is close to perfect.

Typically, predictably, it doesn’t last and when shit finally hits the fan, it happens in epic fashion because nothing is ever easy when they’re involved.

It happens a few days after the Fourth of July. It’s late-afternoon, Hurricane Agatha brewing off the coast causing the clouds to streak faster through the sky and, with the rest of their friends working or otherwise occupied, the two teenagers decide to spend a day lounging at home, getting in a few more chapters of The Battle of the Labyrinth and drinking the beer left over from a night of partying at John B’s house.

“’Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually my idea of fun,’“ Sailor reads as she relaxes on the couch, book in one hand and can of PBR in the other, the wind blowing in through the open window ruffling her hair, “‘Especially when I’m wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.’“

“I’ll drink to that,” JJ says, briefly lifting his head from her lap to chug the rest of his beer before settling back down, feet propped up on the couch’s arm. They’re both a little buzzed, having lost count of how many drinks they’ve downed but she’s had enough to make her start giggling at his comment as she struggles to keep reading while Binx, fed up with the noise, jumps down from his spot behind her and slinks down the hall to find some peace and quiet.

“Damn you, stop it!” She laughs harder as he pulls a ridiculous face at her pronunciation of Daedalus, then shoots her an impish grin and she responds by ‘accidentally’ dropping the paperback on his face. Both are so caught up in hysterics that they don’t notice the sound of a car pulling into the driveway or a key unlocking the front door.

“Sailor!”

The girl freezes at her name, green eyes widening at the sharp tone of her mother’s voice. Slowly, she turns her head to look over her shoulder where she stands, arms crossed, and she’s so shocked Carmen’s actually looking her in the eye that nothing comes out of her open mouth but an oh so eloquent “huh?”

“What the hell is going on here?” The older woman demands, moving around the couch before either teenager can react, and her eyes narrow when she catches sight of JJ’s head on her daughter’s thigh and the empty beer cans on the end table. “Are you two drunk? Get up, now.”

He hastily does as she asks, eyes downcast to the floor and shaking hands clenched at his sides; ignoring her mother’s glare, Sailor deliberately reaches over and rests one palm on top of his as she says tightly, “Nice to see you home for once, I’m surprised you remembered where it is.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it but she can’t find it in her fuzzy, alcohol-numbed brain to care when Carmen reels back like she’s been slapped before she seems to compose herself, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Sailor Giselle, don’t you dare talk to your mother like that!”

The redhead feels something inside her snap and she glares up at the only parent she has left, all but spitting her next words, “Then start acting like my mother! This is the first time I’ve seen you here in four months!”

“I had to come home after Rachel told me you were shacking up with some boy! Do you have any idea-”

“Rachel?!” Sailor explodes at the mention of their obnoxiously invasive old biddy of a neighbor whose sole mission in life is knowing everyone’s business, “God, that hag just can’t keep her nose out of anything can she?”

Carmen crosses her arms once again and glowers at her daughter. “You know how hard it is for me to be in here, Sailor. I asked her to keep an eye on you for me and I’m glad I did.”

The teenager stares at her in disbelief before barking a loud, humorless laugh. “Let me get this straight: you asked our neighbor to spy on me so you didn’t have to come home...so you didn’t have to actually put in some effort?” Carmen opens her mouth to defend herself but before any words can come out, Sailor continues, throwing her free hand in the air, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“This is my house!” Her mother thunders, not noticing the way the silent blond boy flinches at her yell and how her daughter tightens her grip on his hand. “This is my house and I can do whatever I damn well please, including having someone look out for you when I can’t.”

“When you won’t, you mean.” She scoffs, shaking her head in thinly-veiled disgust, “I’m doing just fine on my own, no thanks to you, Mom.”

“Does ‘doing just fine’ mean living alone with this kid?” Carmen spits and when she glances at JJ like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe, Sailor’s finally had enough and takes a step toward the older woman with a furious glare.

“Will you just let that go? God! He’s my best friend and he needed somewhere to stay, that’s it!”

“I don’t care.” Turning to JJ, she demands coldly, “Go pack your shit and get out.”

“No.” Green eyes hardening into chips of emerald, the redhead grabs his other hand as he goes to leave the room and steps in front of him protectively. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Carmen pinches the bridge of her nose, her voice low as she threatens, “I swear to God, Sailor, either he leaves or I’ll make him leave.”

When she feels his whole body go rigid behind her, she knows her mom’s won this particular battle and before she can even turn to face him he’s disappeared down the hall to her room without a word. Sailor whirls to face her like the wind outside, red hair flying over her shoulder like a whip as she seethes, “How dare you.”

The older woman sighs like she’s the one hurting and crosses to the window before closing it with a firm hand. “Drop it, I’m done arguing.”

“I care about him, Mom, you can’t just kick him out!”

“I said drop it! I don’t give a shit how you feel about him, I’m not having your homeless boyfriend mooching-”

“Jesus Christ -his dad beats the shit out of him!”

The words ring out like a bell, loud and clear and impossible to ignore. Carmen freezes in the middle of picking up a discarded can, tan skin turning pale as she stares, mouth slightly agape, at her daughter; the girl stares back unflinching, and despite her heart’s rapid staccato in her chest, her next words cut like a knife.

“He’s not homeless, okay? But his dad hits him, all the damn time. You’re not gonna stand by and let that happen, are you?”

Her mother’s eyes soften -for a fleeting moment, she looks like her old, caring self again- before they harden to steel, the open expression on her face slamming closed with all the force of a screen door in a hurricane.

“I’m sorry -really, I am- but that’s not my problem.”

Sailor flinches at the icy edge in her voice and looks down at the floor, jaw clenched tight as she tries to blink away the sudden burning behind her eyes. “I...I don’t know you anymore. My mother would never say that.”

She hears Carmen heave another deep sigh as her footsteps slowly head toward the front entry, “You and I have a lot to talk about when I get back from work, Sailor.” She says, followed by the snatching of keys and the door handle turning. “And that boy had better be gone when I do.”

The redhead looks up from her feet, watching the door slam behind her mother’s retreating form before hastily making her way down the hall to her room and like that morning, the wave of relief that she feels when she sees JJ still sitting on her bed, realizing he’s still here, is downright embarrassing but she’s well past the point of caring. In a flash, Sailor’s in his arms, face pressed against his neck as she cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Sail, you’ve gotta stop apologizing for things you can’t control.” He whispers when she eventually falls silent and she can’t stop the rough laughter bubbling in her chest, even as her whole world feels like it’s falling apart around her.

“Sorry.”

His own laugh is short and low in her ear, and then he’s pulling her closer as his hand draws soothing circles on her back. She lets herself relax for a brief moment, eyelids fluttering closed at his touch, before she takes a deep breath and pulls back to look him in the eye, hands carelessly wiping away the tears on her cheeks, “Help me pack.”

“...what?”

“When she kicked you out, she kicked me out, too.” She says matter-of-factly at JJ’s confused look while she abruptly kneels, pulling her old suitcase from under the bed and heaving it up onto the mattress.

“Okay, so she didn’t actually kick me out but she might as well have!” The redhead strides to her closet and starts picking out her favorite clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed as she fumes, “God, I even told her about your dad -I’m sorry, shit I did it again- and she said she didn’t care! Not to mention she had our neighbor spy-”

“Sail!” She’s so caught up in her rant that she doesn’t notice when JJ moves to stand beside her, and only when he puts his hands on her shoulders does she stop short, a Kildare County High School sweatshirt dangling from her fingers; she can feel him watching her and when she flicks her gaze up to meet his, she’s not at all prepared for the tempest of emotions -admiration, pride, empathy, something else she can’t name- all crashing like the surf behind his eyes.

Blue. Oh so blue. It’s been her favorite color ever since she knew what colors were and she thinks her favorite shade has to be the one she finds in his eyes: bright, clear, and ever easy to drown in if she’s not careful.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says it in such a casual way that it’s impossible to think it’s not as intentional as the fingers that slowly tuck a stray curl behind her ear and the thumb that brushes along her flushed cheek.

She just shakes her head with a tiny, bashful smile and her words are an echo of a quiet, rainy night all those weeks ago, “I’m just doing what feels right.”

They fall into an easy rhythm after that, one that helps them both sober up as they fill her suitcase to the brim with everything Sailor thinks she’ll need for a long stay, wherever she ends up. The Chateau makes the most sense of course, but with the DCS breathing down John B’s neck recently, she’s not sure how viable of an option that is but there’s one thing she knows for sure: there’s no way in hell she’s coming back here any time soon. It hurts to leave her shell collection behind -for a brief, dark moment she toys with the idea of tearing the shelf down and smashing them all until they’re turned to dust but she pushes that thought away- so she takes her favorite, the lightning whelk that reminds her of JJ and that day on the beach, and gently tucks it away in her backpack to ease the sting, as a promise to one day return for the rest.

“Jackpot!” JJ exclaims and she looks up to find him on the floor by her chair, pulling up the loose wood board that hides her secret stash of booze and money and reaching in to snag a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels, holding it above his head with a triumphant smile.

“Shit, I forgot that was even in there,” She replies as she kneels beside him and snatches the whiskey from his hand before he can take a swig, slipping it into her backpack, “Not yet.”

“Oh, come on,” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at his pout and reaches into the dark space to pull out an old plastic lunchbox, along with a small flask that gets thrown in her bag without a second glance. “Boooo.”

“Patience,” She teases, opening the cracked lid to take all of the cash inside and stuffs it into the ziploc bag that doubles as a purse (“it’s cheap and waterproof, what more do I need?” was her argument when Kiara asked her why she didn’t have an actual handbag), which she then stuffs in her backpack. “We can get drunk after we get out of here.”

“You had me at ‘drunk,’“ He slides the floorboard back into place after Sailor tosses the empty lunchbox inside and then stands, pulling her up alongside him with his hand in hers, the other reaching out to grab the handle of her suitcase. “Ready when you are.”

The redhead takes one last look around her room, from the assortment of shells and pictures on one wall to her poster of Bethany Hamilton on the other and everything in between -her sanctuary for the longest time- before turning away from the familiar comfort of the old to face the enticing uncertainty of the new. “Let’s go.”

After a quick stop in the bathroom to grab her shampoo, conditioner, and toothbrush -no way in hell is she gonna share any of those with the boys- then the kitchen to grab some food for Binx and the cat himself from the back of the couch (surprisingly, he doesn’t put up much of a fight), they head outside and throw her suitcase and their backpacks in the bed of the truck along with her surfboard.

“John B’s probably gonna be pissed about the cat,” JJ says, leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed, smirking as she gives him a flat look and unceremoniously dumps Binx onto the bench seat through the driver’s side window.

“Well, John B’s just gonna -stay, Binxy!- have to get used to it. I’m not leaving him behind.”

Across the street, Rachel perches on her porch as she watches the two teenagers with her beady little eyes and Sailor, feeling particularly defiant, grins wickedly. “J, watch this.” Waving to the woman to catch her attention she calls over the wind, “Hey, Rachel!” before slowly extending both middle fingers toward her, one at a time. “That one’s for my mom and this one’s for you, you nosy bitch!”

He instantly joins in and both hold their hands high, cackling with laughter, until the old crone scowls and slithers back into her house like the snake she is. “Good riddance,” the redhead says, opening the truck’s door and sliding behind the wheel, “Let’s blow this joint.”

“Joint?” JJ asks, climbing into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him, Binx instantly curling up on his lap, “Did you say joint?”

“You and weed, I swear...” She laughs and goes to start the engine before she realizes she’s grasping at an empty ignition and lets her head fall against the steering wheel with a thunk, “Son of a bitch, I forgot my keys. I’ll be right back.”

Going back inside isn’t as hard as Sailor thought it would be, but leaving is a whole other ball game. She snatches her keys from the bathroom sink where she left them and heads back toward the front door; she’s just passing by their family portrait when it hits her: this is it, the last time in who knows how long she’ll be here. It’s now or never. She thinks of it as a weight on her shoulders, one that’s been dragging her down for far too long, like Atlas holding up the sky, but unlike him, she’s going to break the chains and set herself free.

In one final, sudden burst of years of anger and hurt and frustration, she rips the picture from the hook and smashes it to the floor, sending pieces of glass and wood skittering down the hall before striding from the house and all its memories without a backwards glance, slamming the door behind her with a resolute bang.

Surprisingly, John B doesn’t give a shit about the cat when they show up at the Chateau but he does give a shit about Sailor and her well-being after they give him a quick rundown of the afternoon’s happenings.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sail?” He asks as he and JJ carry her bags into the house and deposit them in the spare room, the redhead trailing behind with Binx in her arms.

“That’s the age old question, bro,” She deflects with a shrug, taking a seat on the bed and setting the cat down beside her; he instantly takes off to explore his new home as she continues, “Who actually knows if they’re okay? What’s okay to one person can be completely different to another-”

“Sailor, seriously.”

She glances back and forth between the two boys -two sweet, caring boys- watching her with twin looks of understanding and relents. “Look, I’m still kind of...processing everything, alright? I’m not exactly sure what I’m feeling and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for me to find out but I promise you,” She says softly, looking them both in the eye, “I’ll let you know if I’m not okay. Deal?”

JJ shoots her an enthusiastic thumbs up while John B opts for a simple nod and she grins before pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels from her backpack with a flourish. “Good. Now, I think we could all use a drink.”

The trio (and Binx, house thoroughly explored) bums around the living room while the afternoon slowly turns to evening, the wind outside getting worse with each passing hour the storm moves closer, passing the bottle back and forth until none of them are anywhere close to sober. What started as a game of truth or dare quickly dissolves into straight up truth as they get remarkably philosophical about what animal they’d want to be (an eagle for John B, a wolf for JJ, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, a dolphin for Sailor) and then have a deep, animated discussion about the best Star Wars movie and why it’s The Empire Strikes Back. Later, when the whiskey’s down to a few sips left and their collective demons have retreated to the very back of their minds, JJ drunkenly suggests playing strip poker and both Sailor and John B have to remind him that none of them a.) know how to play poker or b.) even own a deck of cards.

“Damn it!” The sly grin falls from his face when he realizes they’re right and he dejectedly sinks back into the couch, head coming to rest on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wanna see you take your clothes off, Flynn.”

She laughs loudly and grabs the bottle from his hand before taking a big sip and passing it to John B. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Maybank.” Whiskey, she found out few months ago, hits her hard: her filter? Gone. Blushing? Aside from the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol, gone. Self-consciousness? As long gone as her father. She’ll flirt her heart out without giving a single shit and it’s both a blessing and a curse, as well as an endless source of secondhand embarrassment in the morning.

“That’s okay, you know I like a challenge.” He declares with a wink, cracking up when she plants her hand directly on his face and pushes him off her shoulder as John B snorts and downs the last of the liquor without either of them noticing.

“Jesus, get a room,” He uses the empty bottle to point down the hall, then sets it on the side table with a hollow thunk as he leans back and stretches his arms above his head. “There’s one right there.”

Sailor gives him a swift kick in the shin with her bare foot for that, plus the shit-eating grin on his face. The trio lounges around for a little while longer, relaxing in a whiskey-induced haze; the redhead finds herself nodding off every so often, slipping back further and further until her head finds a place to rest on JJ’s lap and her legs end up on John B’s. The feel of fingers running through her hair is so feather light that she can barely keep her eyes open and before she knows it, she’s down for the count.

When she wakes some indefinite amount of time later the room is dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the windows and John B’s gone from his spot by her feet, Binx curled up in a ball on the cushion instead. JJ’s dead asleep, hand stalled in her curls and the sight of his head tipped back against the couch with his mouth slightly open is so damn endearing that she can’t help but smile, even as she reaches a hand up to gently shake his shoulder.

“J, wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” He groans, free hand sluggishly pushing her arm away. Sailor sits up and swivels to face him before shaking him again, giggling quietly at the way his head lolls from side to side.

“Come on, the bed’s way comfier than this.”

Sleepy blue eyes open to give her a heavy look that screams both gratification and longing and so much hope as he quips, “You just want me in your bed again, don’t you?”

She reverently rolls her eyes but reaches to grab his hands anyway and pulls him to his feet, both swaying in place before they find their balance. “And if I do?”

The corner of his mouth rises in a small, adorable smile as his fingers entwine with hers. “I’d say that’s right where I want to be.”

“Well, you’re in luck ‘cause that’s where I want you to be, too.” Still a little bit tipsy, her words are honest, sincere, and as she leads him down the hall, she realizes that old saying is true: drunk words are sober thoughts. After three weeks sharing a home, a room, a bed, she just doesn’t think she can sleep without him anymore and that belief doesn’t quite scare her as much as she thought it would.

Lying wrapped up in his arms in the dark, Sailor finds herself dreaming of a future -as much of a future an impoverished, quasi-homeless, not-quite alright, not-quite-seventeen year old can dream of- with the damaged boy that holds oceans in his eyes.

A few miles away, Carmen Flynn sits on her daughter’s bed with a broken picture frame in her hands as she cries, all alone in an empty house with no idea how to make things okay again.

let me know what you think! also, fun fact: sailor compares her short-term memory to a chimp because studies have shown that chimpanzees are the absolute worst at remembering things, not goldfish as we previously thought (they can remember things for at least five months, compared to chimps who, despite their similarities to humans, forget things in about twenty seconds). sailor, being a zoology nerd, would definitely find that fascinating and make it her mission to educate the masses that goldfish aren’t that stupid jj finds it both adorable and kind of hot

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @obxsummer @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy @jjmaybanky @ethereallust

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nekoannie-chan · 4 years

Text

Regrets

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Mutant! Reader.

Word count: 1545 words.

Summary: Steve had made a decision, but another fact will make he realizes it was the wrong one, can he fix it?

Warnings: some smut references, nothing explicit, mention of deaths of characters, angst, sad.

A/N: This is my entry to the @distractedgemini‘s Kay’s Decade of Music Writing Challenge with the song prompt #35:

“Someone like you” by Adele.

And my entry to the @kitkatd7 ‘s Kits’ 250 Writing Challenge with the dialogue prompt #1:

“Don’t you understand? You were her happy ending”.

And my entry to @jtargaryen18 ‘s 30 days of Chris.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

youtube

I heard that you're settled down That you found a girl and you're married now I heard that your dreams came true Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

2005

You came into your house after returning from school, everything was supposed to have changed, the mutants no longer had to hide, and weren't taken to the Garland Detention Center.

"I'm home," you said after closing the door.

There was no answer, maybe they didn't hear you.

"Mom, Dad," you called as you walked down the aisle.

It was strange to you that they didn’t say anything, you returned to the hall, maybe they left you a message there and you hadn't seen it yet, there was no note, probably something had happened, some last-minute mission, although it was rare that you hadn't been warned.

While they weren't your biological parents; Clarice and John had adopted you after yours were killed by the Purifiers when you were a baby, although the fact that you were adopted didn't care much because you were happy with your family, even your last name was Proudstar and they love you as her daughter.

But when you entered the kitchen, a scream came out of your throat; there were their bodies, you could tell at first glance that they had tried to defend themselves, even though it was not enough.

"No! Mom! Dad!”

You tried to move them, you were hoping they'd still be alive, even if they were badly hurt, you didn't get the idea that they were dead.

I heard that you're settled down That you found a girl and you're married now I heard that your dreams came true Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

"There's someone here," a woman said.

You didn't even hear when someone came into your house; for a moment you thought they were your parents’ killers who had come back or listened to you.

“Are you Y/N? Y/N Proudstar, Clarice's, and John's daughter? The woman questioned.

You nodded, you didn't know if to trust, you didn't even know who that woman was, within seconds a man came into the kitchen.

"When did you arrive? Fury asked you.

"About 10 minutes ago," you replied scared.

"You'll come with us, Coulson, accompany her to take her belongings and help her," Nick said.

"What? I'm not going anywhere, I don't even know who you are, how can I be sure you're not going to do me the same as my parents?”

"We are S.H.I.E.L.D. we received your parents' message asking for help and that we take care of you.”

“How do I know they are S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Your parents had told you everything, yet without proof, you couldn't believe them.

Fury and Coulson showed their IDs, they weren't lying, you sighed, you went to your bedroom followed by Coulson and you started storing things in suitcases and backpacks, they hadn't specified any item limits on you, so you'd take as much as you could.

Old friend, why are you so shy? Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it I had hoped you'd see my face And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

2012

You walked as fast as you could, that day you were late, you were carrying the report of the last mission you were gone to.

You didn't pay attention around you, so you crashed into something hard, you thought it had been against a wall, because of the impact, you fell.

"I'm sorry, miss, okay?” The ‘wall’ said to help you lift.

"Captain, I'm sorry, I didn't see it," you apologized.

Steve help you pick up the leaves, within a few seconds Coulson showed up.

"Agent Proudstar, the report," he asked.

"I was already taking him to his office right now," you replied.

"I see you've met, your next mission will be together," Coulson said.

You knew who Steve was, but you remembered he didn't know who you were, you still didn't show up.

"Agent Y/N Proudstar," you said, smiling.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I beg I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead" "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2018

"I know we've lost a lot these days, but you remember I was going to ask you something the day Bruce called us. You know when Thanos...”

"Yes," you answered while you were accommodating some things

Steve took your arm to stop and pay attention to him.

"What's going on?”

"Marry me," he asked.

"Just like that? Are you sure? I mean, you always told me you wanted Bucky to be in...”

"We try to get everything back to normal, Thanos is dead we can't do much, but we can try to be happy and get on with our lives, it seems like that's all we can do.”

"I think it's going to be enough for Nat to be there," you said.

He took your answer as if he ‘I do’ and kissed you.

You know how the time flies Only yesterday was the time of our lives We were born and raised in a summer haze Bound by the surprise of our glory days

2023

You looked down, you knew Steve had told you a lie... or worse he had lied to you all that time.

As soon as he left you started running towards the trees, you didn't want to know anything anymore, if you could... If you could... you probably would have done the same thing and prevent your parents from being killed.

“Y/N!” Bucky called you.

You didn't listen to him, you kept running, you wanted to go as far as you could, you'd like to somehow forget everything and Bucky finally caught you, grabbed your arm, and stopped you.

"He's gone, he went with Peggy," you started sobbing.

Bucky hugged you, he didn't know what to say or do to comfort you, he knew what you were saying was true.

"He left us... Bucky, he left us...”

Yes, Steve had left them, but Bucky didn't understand exactly what you meant, you hadn't even had a chance to say anything, you didn't know now what to do, the feeling was a thousand times worse than when you lost your parents.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it I had hoped you'd see my face And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

1947

Steve peeked into the door of the house where Peggy was living.

He saw her pass, at least now he was sure he hadn't got the wrong house; he needed a few more minutes before knocking the door and that's when he saw Daniel kissing Peggy and after the couple split up, she took the baby from the crib.

Peggy found her right partner after Steve had ended up on the ice...

Steve stayed a week in that time, it would probably be a month after the last time he had seen them...

You didn't expect to be welcomed... but he would do his best to recover what he had ruined.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I begged I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2019

"Orphanages are full," you said while you're taking the last picture you'd been taken with your parents.

"Everything is complicated," Steve replied, and he was reading the newspaper.

"We should adopt some or some of those little ones, I was very happy when Clarice and John adopted me," you said looking at the picture.

"You think they're going to let us? We’re superheroes, I don't think they want to expose children to danger," Steve replied, taking his eyes off the newspaper.

You kept thinking for a few minutes, Steve was right, you didn't know exactly if another threat would show up, no one knew.

"You're right.”

"But we can do some," Steve proposed, approaching you.

"Captain," you said seductively.

Nothing compares, no worries or cares Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

2023

Steve returned to where he belonged, took everyone by surprise, as soon as they heard the machine activate Bruce and Bucky immediately went to see what was going on, Bruce had installed it at the Compound in case it was necessary, they feared it would be some other enemy, no one expected him to return, as soon as they saw him a sepulchral silence took over the room.

Bucky decided to take him outside, no one dared say what had happened.

“And Y/N?” Steve asked

Steve had immediately noticed your absence, Bucky bit his lip, and he didn't know how to explain it.

"Buck, and Y/N? I know she must be angry...”

"She didn't make it on the last mission," he finally confessed.

"What?”

"Something went wrong and...”

Steve turned around and started walking inland from the Compound.

“DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU WERE HER HAPPY ENDING…!”

Steve didn't keep listening to what his friend was saying, he went to the base and went straight into the room that you and he shared, and if he hadn't left... if it hadn't been so hollow head... you'd still be alive.

He opened the drawer of your nightstand where you kept the photos, he wanted to see you, he saw that something flew out when he took out the album and it was frozen as soon as he saw the object.

She took the positive pregnancy test, the day he left, you seemed so nervous, so you insisted that he wasn't the one to return the Stones.

There was only one way to get you back, this time I wouldn't ruin it, he took some things from the room and headed to where the time machine was.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you "Don't forget me, " I beg I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2010

You knocked on Fury's office, you were sent to call, and you thought it was for a new mission.

"Agent Proudstar, I'm glad you came," Nick said.

“What do you need a Director?”

"This is Steve Rogers, Captain America," Fury said, pointing to Steve.

"Captain, I'm Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Y/N Proudstar," you introduced yourself smiling.

Your smile, Steve had missed her so much.

He stretched out his hand to greet you and smiled, he was going to fix everything that had happened, he would love you again and no mistakes this time, and he was going to make sure you were happy together.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I begged I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead" "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

#Kay’s Decade of Music Challenge #kits250challenge #30DaysofChris2020 #Steve Rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #captain america #captain america fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america one shot #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

#miyoshi kazunari #kazunari miyoshi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #a3 kazunari

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